“You almost drowned,” he says quietly. “River nearly took both of us.”
I push myself upright anyway. Slowly. Stubbornly.
“I’m fine.”
Torric gives me The Look™—dry, disbelieving, fond in a way that makes my chest ache for reasons that have nothing to do with bruises.
“Sure,” he says. “And I’m a delicate snowflake.”
“You?” I manage. “You’d melt the entire mountain.”
His mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
“Dammit, Sunshine.” His voice softens. “It’s good to see your eyes.”
He pauses, jaw tight, like he’s choosing his next words carefully.
“But if you’re trying to die on me? Stop. It’s bad for my nerves.”
Something in my throat tightens.
Relief. Embarrassment. Guilt.
I scared him. Really scared him.
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know.” He leans back in the chair, exhaling slowly. “Doesn’t make it easier.”
I try to sort through what I remember.
Pieces. Fragments.
The creature charging.
Cold water. So much cold.
Strong arms grabbing me. Warmth cutting through the river’s grip.
Torric. That was Torric.
And something else. Something warm. Something that felt like home that shouldn’t have been there.
I can’t place it.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Small town. Allied village.” Torric gestures vaguely toward the window. “Part of Kieran’s network. These people owe him favors—respect him. They took us in without question.”
I glance around the room again. The care in how everything’s arranged. The clean linens. The sunlight. It feels like the sanctuary did, but warmer.
“They gave me this?”
“Gave us a whole safehouse, actually. Separate rooms. Food. Water. Privacy.” He shrugs. “Kieran’s built loyalty over the years. It shows.”
A soft knock interrupts before I can respond.
The door cracks open and Aspen walks in, holding a tray with broth, bread, and tea.
