Raelle grumbles something that sounds likestubborn assholeunder her breath as she sheaths her soiled sword and climbs onto Nortus. I understand her worry. I’d feel the same way if our roles were reversed. But I refuse to leave us all as sitting targets while she tends to me. I’ve seen worse in battle, and I’ll survive until we are somewhere safer.
We’ve been riding for what feels like hours. I slouch in my saddle, gripping the reins with numb fingers and breathing through the sting of the scratches across my ribs. Thankfully, the cold has dulled the ache of the puncture wounds in my arm. Sweat trails down my face, leaving cold streaks on my hot skin, and my vision is blurry around the edges. The sun, although hidden behind gray clouds, is high in the sky, yet I’m so very tired.
“Kyron!”
I wrench my eyes open at the sound of Raelle’s terrified yell. Her hand lands on my shoulder, pushing me upright in my saddle.
“I’m all right. Keep moving,” I say, my words like sandpaper in my throat.
“He needs to rest and have his wounds cleaned,” she says, ignoring my demand.
I should put up a fight, pull rank. We are burning time we don’t have, but the worry on her face stops me. She has been distracted, watching my very movement instead of concentrating on what’s around us. I can’t monopolize her time. Not now. Not when everything relies on her.
“There,” Terro says, pointing to a mountainous cluster of rocks in the distance. “We should find somewhere to hide in there.”
“Do you think you can make it?” Ulric asks, moving in on the other side of me.
I don’t have the energy to speak, so I nod. It’s a lie. I don’t know how much longer I can hang on.
Greer leads the way while Ulric and Raelle keep pace at my side. We cross the barren land and slip between two massive boulders. The path before us is like a stone maze, all twists and turns leading to nowhere. The further we travel, the taller the stone. It looms over us, blocking the wind but doing nothing to protect us from the rapidly dropping temperature. Teeth chattering joins the steady crunch of ice beneath the horses’ hooves, ricocheting off the walls along the narrow path. The cold has frozen my sweat and the blood soaked into my tunic. My body is numb, and at the edge of my groggy thoughts lingers the fear of frostbite if I don’t warm up soon.
We reach a cropping in the rocks big enough to comfortably fit us and the horses. An overhang of stone has protected the ground beneath from the snow, and a firepit rests in the middle with blackened logs. A neat pile of firewood rests beside it, as if the last traveler left it for the next weary soul who has to survive this weather. Nothing has ever looked so welcoming.
I slide off Samson’s saddle, and my knees buckle under my weight. Rocks dig into my palms as I hit the ground hard. Myskin splits under the jagged edges, sending a searing pain up my arms. Greer jumps from her horse to help me up, but I shake her off and crawl to the back corner of the space.
“I just need to sleep it off,” I grumble, dropping into a heap of trembling flesh and bones.
Greer rips the medic bag from the back of her horse and barks, “Terro and Ulric, scout the perimeter and try to sweep away our trail leading into here.” She turns to the shifter, who sits just outside our group, watching our every move. “Ashavee, I’ll need your help to warm Kyron up until we can get a fire going.”
The jaguar gracefully stands and steps around me. She lowers her sleek body next to mine, her soft coat pressed against my side. My icy fingers weave through her fur, pulling her closer.
“I need you to remove his jacket and shirt,” Greer says, her voice muffled in my drowsy state.
The soft leather of Raelle’s glove glides along the side of my face, and I moan at her touch. She brushes my hair back before pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I want to ask her what she has to apologize for, but the question comes out as nothing more than a groan. The answer will be revealed to me soon enough. Raelle gently moves my arm and works my jacket down. The world around me ceases as pain traps me in its deadly grasp. Its inky fingers wind around my neck, stealing my breath.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispers before everything goes dark and I’m lost to eternal nothingness.
Twenty-Four
RAELLE
Ican’t keep my hands off Kyron. He lays unconscious beside me, sweat beading on his brow and breaths erratic. I brush the hair from his forehead, his skin burning beneath my fingers. The flames from the fire dance over his pale lips and don’t reach the dark, sunken-in circles under his eyes. The healing balm the Sara queens gave me has fused his wounds closed, but it hasn’t done much to treat the infection.
He groans and his eyelids flutter open. I can hardly make out his black irises through the slight openings of his swollen eyes. He licks his cracked lips and shifts to his side, putting us nose to nose. This isn’t the first time he has appeared awake. Throughout the night, he’s vocalized his pain with nonsensical ramblings. I slide my hand from his hair to his cheek, hoping to ease him back to sleep.
He grips my wrist in a weak hold and says, “You need these.”
I furrow my brows, searching his face for true consciousness. “What do I need, Ky?” I ask.
He brings his other hand to mine and places something cold in the middle of my palm. I catch a glimpse of the two stones as he curls my fingers around them. “You need these.”
“They’re useless to?—”
“You need them. Please take them.”
“All right,” I say, placing the Sacred Gifts in my pocket.
