Another arrow comes flying from a different direction, once again aimed at her, not me. I move to block it, but I’m a fraction too slow. The arrow pierces my shoulder, just above my heart.
Pain lances through me as I stumble back with a groan. “Run,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “Shift and run. Don’t look back.”
Her eyes widen, fear flashing through them—fear for me, not herself. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by stubborn determination.
“I don’t run from danger,” she says fiercely. “And I certainly don’t leave people behind.”
The wild wolves circle us, growling at the unseen attackers. Daciana looks at them, then back at me, her decision made.
“I’m not leaving you,” she says, voice firm.
The arrow in my shoulder burns like fire. I can feel blood soaking through my shirt, but the pain is secondary to the need to protect her. With no other choice, I summon my power, feeling it gather in my core.
“Then stay close, little wolf,” I warn, bracing myself for what comes next.
I thrust my uninjured arm outward, sending a massive wave of magic in all directions. The air ripples with power, trees bending as if caught in a mighty wind. I hear startled cries from the forest—two, maybe three voices.
“Move. Now.” My voice is strained. Using magic on this scale drains me rapidly, especially when I’m injured. “They’re immobilized, but not for long.”
Daciana doesn’t hesitate. She transforms into a tawny brown wolf, smaller than me but quick and agile. She nudges my leg, whining urgently.
“I can’t shift with this wound,” I say, swaying slightly. “The arrow—”
She shifts back to human form in an instant. “Then I’ll help you walk,” she says, purpose set in her jaw. “Put your arm around my shoulder.”
Without waiting for a response, she moves to my uninjured side and wraps an arm around my waist. Her strength surprises me; she’s solidly built, all muscle from years of training. I lean on her, letting her take some of my weight.
“The palace is too far,” I mutter, feeling blood seeping down my chest. “We need somewhere closer.”
“I know a place,” she says, already moving us forward. “But we need to hurry.”
The wild wolves flank us as we move, protecting our retreat. One of them—the female who approached me earlier—suddenly lunges into the underbrush. I hear a startled cry, followed by snarling and the sounds of a struggle.
“One down,” Daciana mutters. “Good girl.”
She leads us through the forest with unerring confidence, supporting my increasingly heavy weight with remarkable ease. My magic has faded, energy sapped by both the spell and my injury. The world begins to spin around me.
“Stay with me,” she urges, tightening her grip. “Just a little farther.”
The trees blur together as my consciousness starts to fade. I focus on Daciana—her scent, her voice, the solid strength of her body against mine. She’s not just supporting me physically; her determination is keeping me upright through sheer force of will.
“Here,” she finally says as we reach what appears to be a small cave hidden behind a curtain of vines. “We’ll be safe here.”
She helps me inside, easing me down against the stone wall. The cave is shallow but well concealed. The wild wolves take up positions at the entrance, alert for any sign of pursuit.
“I need to check your wound,” she says, her voice all business now. “The arrow is still in there.”
I nod, unable to summon words. She works quickly, tearing a strip from her shirt to staunch the bleeding.
“It needs to come out,” she says, meeting my eyes directly. “It’s gonna hurt.”
“Do it,” I manage to say.
She wraps her hand around the shaft. “On three. One—”
She pulls it out in one swift motion before even saying “two.” The pain is blinding, and a roar escapes my throat. Black spots dance across my vision.
“Sorry,” she says, not sounding particularly apologetic. “It’s better when you don’t tense up expecting it.”
