But she was shivering far too much, her body as frozen as ice. He reached for the small dagger at his hip, hands shaking.Focus, Arawn. You must not fail again.
He wasn’t much for carving runes, but he knew the simplest kind. The ones that never worked on Soraya, and his heart tremored in fear again.
He wouldn’t let Ezer die.
He would not lose another part of his heart.
If he did... he’d have nothing left.
With trembling hands, he carved the healing rune into Ezer’s skin, on the back of her delicate hand. It glowed softly as the magic came to life, the only hope he could offer her until he could get her to Alaris.
“You’ll carry her,” he said to Six, and the beast lowered itself at once, almost as if ithadunderstood. He didn’t give himself time to consider that. Gently, Arawn placed Ezer upon Six’s back, taking his own cloak to lay over her.
He wanted to hold her, wanted to check every inch of her for injuries, but howls sounded beyond the clearing.
His blood spiked with heat, with warning.
The wolves would be swift on their way.
It was an effort to tear himself from her side, but he went for Kinlear next—furious, as he lifted his twin.
Howdarehe bring Ezer beyond the Wards, howdarehe put them both in danger?
Arawn hated him.
He hated him... and he loved him, dearly, despite their odds.
He couldn’t imagine himself without Kinlear, even now, even though he would curse his twin’s name to the wind tonight... so long as the bastard stayedalive.
“Damn you, Kinlear,” Arawn growled as he carved the healingrune into his skin, jagged and hideous but enough to glow as it came to life. In his mind, he saw them both as boys.
Wild and free in the halls of the Citadel, raising hell with sticks for swords. He saw Kinlear’s drawings and how Arawn had paid the penance in his place. He saw a speaking stone passed between them, and himself, seated on the edge of Kinlear’s bed as he screamed from his nightmares...as Arawn held his hands, and whispered,I’m here. There’s no monster, Kinlear. Wake up.
They were once closer than brothers could ever be...two sides to the same coin.
He missed those days. He missed the old Kinlear, before Soraya. Because after her...Kinlear had changed, too.
He’d broken. He’d lost his Matched. Ofcourse,he’d broken...and Arawn hadn’t even considered Kinlear’s pain for a moment.
“Damn it all, Brother. What did you get yourself into this time?” he breathed.
Kinlear’s head was gashed, but his pulse was bold. Bless Ezer for saving both of them. Bless her beautiful, clever mind.
“Come on,” Arawn growled, reaching for Six’s halter as he slung Kinlear over her back, too. Not as carefully as he had Ezer, and the beast reared back, clacking her beak in distaste. “We have to get themhome.”
Six growled, wings snapping out as if she’d protect them both from Arawn. As ifhewere the enemy now.
“Come on!”
He lunged for the halter again, but she sidestepped him, and when he managed to grab a hold, she dug in her claws, refusing to move.
Refusing to bend to his will.
“You came for me!” He growled at her. “You...” He pulled on the halter with all his might. “Must...” The worn leather creaked in protest. “Move.”
She didn’t.
Not even an inch.
