I didn’t know how long I slept. An hour. A week. A year. It was all the same. Time lost.
I stared blindly up into the murk. A candle flickered somewhere nearby, casting dancing shadows on the bejeweled walls of the den. So many gemstones. All manner of size and shape and color. The glow from the single candle struck the jewels and projected myriad colors, splashing a rainbow of light all over the space.
I knew this place. I was in the infirmary. Every den in the pride was decked out in gemstones, but no space as much as the infirmary. It only made sense, as gems helped nourish a dragon, sustaining as well as growing our wide-ranging talents.
I flexed my fingers, finding them laced over my stomach, atop a blanket of fur. I turned my head to look around me, realizing I was in bed … on my back.
I took a careful, bracing breath, waiting for the blazing pain to slide in and resume its feeding on me.
Nothing.
I thrummed my fingers through the soft fur, allowing myself the slightest movement as I waited.
Still, I felt no pain.
Cautiously, I shifted, growing bolder with my movements as it became apparent that my back did not hurt. Rolling my shoulders, I became aware of only a lingering soreness.
I was alive. And I was healed.
I opened my mouth to speak, to call out, but only a croak of sound emerged.
Suddenly Brenna loomed over me, her face filling my vision. “Well, hello there. Welcome back.”
I tried again to speak, with obvious difficulty.
Brenna moved and returned with a glass of water. Sliding a hand beneath my head, she lifted me up for a sip, and I gasped.
“Oh, that hurts,” I croaked, my fingers fluttering to my side.
She nodded. “You broke a rib.”
Idid not break my rib.Stigbroke my rib, cracking me asunder like I was nothing more than a hard-shelled hazelnut to him. Not anyone he had ever loved or called friend. Not a life at all. He was all that was dark and corrupt in this world—bad for humans, bad for dragons, bad for all things magic.
“I’ve wrapped you tightly.” She placed a hand lightly to my side to indicate where the bindings circled my torso. “But a broken rib is slow to heal, especially when done by dragon weaponry.” She made a grunt of displeasure. “Dragon weaponry. The great equalizer. Curse the day humans ever realized how to use our own bodies against us.”
“How did that come to pass?” I murmured.
“Witches.” She spat the word. “They came into this worldknowingthings, and then they told those things to humans.” She rolled her eyes. “And look how well that served them. It should not be this way.Humansfellingdragons. It’s unnatural.” With a disgusted shake of her head, she brought the cup to my lips again. “Go on. Drink.”
I gave a slight nod of thanks and sipped.
“There you go,” she clucked, and I realized the water was faintly laced with verdaberry and other herbs. “Glad to see you doing this on your own. It took a great deal of time and patience to drip water and tinctures into your mouth each day to make sure you were getting your fluids and the medicine you needed.”
“Thank you for that,” I murmured, my voice coming out easier.
“Oh, it wasn’t me.”
I stared at her blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, well, I prepared everything, but it was Vetr. He hardlyever left your side, unless there was pressing business—like what takes him away now. He’s been here almost every moment of every day, making sure you have everything you needed. Talking to you. Encouraging you to wake. That helps, you know. The healing nature of the svefn can be almost too … comforting, too beguiling. Some never want to emerge from it. I’ve seen people with far less severe injuries never wake up.”
My brain was still a fog. I pressed my fingers to my temples. Nothing she said made sense. She couldn’t mean to say that Vetr had sat at my bedside nursing me, but that’s what it sounded like. Why would someone who had allowed me to be whipped near to death then go out of his way to bring me back from the brink?
Talking to you. Encouraging you to wake.
The voice I heard. The deep whisper. And the fetid fear I had tasted. It must have been Vetr. Vetr coaxing me to wake. Vetr’s fear that I would not.
“How—” I paused to lick at my dry lips. “How long have I been asleep?”
