“Dreadspider!”
Lenka turns to Sprite and barks something in their native tongue, then turns back to Larellin.
“Save her.” I swipe her hair from her forehead. She’s cold. Already so cold.
“You’re not in great shape yourself. Did you?—”
“Save her!” I roar.
Kanlon hurries in, his arms laden with herbs and a satchel.
“That first.” Lenka grabs a handful of some dried flowers and holds them in her palm. She mumbles over them, then lets her fire ignite them. Once they’re nothing more than a fine ash, she presses them into Larellin’s wounds.
The mortal moans and shudders. My chest feels like it’s cracking open, like one of my ribs has turned to ash just like the petals in Lenka’s hand.
I press my palms to Larellin’s cheeks, forcing my warmth into her, demanding that she live.
“More. All we have!” Lenka fires more flowers, then more, each time packing Larellin’s wounds with the ash. When the bleeding has finally stopped, she wraps the leg with some sort of webbing then recites a healing spell.
“Will it work on a mortal?” I’ve never felt this sort of fear. Never felt the tiptoe of Death behind me, heard Her whisper in the dark.
“It will take time.” The flames atop Lenka’s head have turned a somber blue. “There’s no way to know for sure.”
Larellin’s heart beats, but it’s slow. So slow. Like honey dripping, no one knowing if the last drop will actually fall.
“Now you.” Lenka rummages in her satchel.
“No.” I sit heavily in a chair offered by Sprite and keep my hands on Larellin. I rub her shoulders, caress her cheeks, do anything and everything I can to share my heat with her. I’m a golden DragonKin. Heat is my one true gift, the only thing I can give.
“Sire, we must attend to your wounds?—”
“I said no.” I lean forward and press my forehead to Larellin’s. I failed her. Gods, how I’ve failed her. This hurts in a way I can’t explain. As if I’m the one filled with venom, with horror. As if I’m barely a step ahead of Death. This Bargain is nothing like the others—what have I done? Why do I feel so connected to a mortal I don’t know and could never understand?
I hold my breath, listening for her heartbeat, waiting and dreading that it won’t come again. Then it does, and I can breathe. Until it hesitates for far too long, and once again, I can’t focus on anything but that one sound.Thump-thump.
“A mortal isn’t made for these lands, Sire,” Lenka says softly, her hand on my shoulder. “You mustn’t blame yourself.”
“This mortal ismine,” I snarl, then quiet myself so I can listen.Thump-thump. There’s nothing else to say.
Chapter
Eight
LARELLIN
“—lucky she survived at all.” A deep voice.
“Wait, so she jumped?” Another male. “She must really hate you.”
“She doesn’t hate me.” Vander. I know his voice. He’s?—
I startle awake. He’s the dragon. He stands in the bedroom doorway and shoos out the other two males.
My head spins, my skin on fire. DragonKin. Vander isn’t just close to the dragon. He is the dragon. The one who took me from my home.
He steps toward me.
I try to scoot away, but my leg pulses with agony. A scream rips from me.
