My legthrobbed, a relentless pulse of fire that refused to let up.Every heartbeat sent fresh waves of pain lancing through thesplintered bone.The swelling had gotten worse. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, swallowing a groan.
Even if the pain wasn’t keeping me up, I wouldn’t sleep, not when Darian was bleeding. Not when his body was too still, his breathing too faint.
I forced my head to turn,checking again, counting his breaths. I pressed a hand lightly to his shoulder, fingers searching for the steady rise and fall of his ribs.
For a long, agonising moment, I felt nothing.
Then, a breath.
Shallow, rattling. But there.
I stifled what might’ve been a sob of relief. The torches outside crackled. A gust of damp, stagnant air drifted in from the corridor, but it wasn’t enough to ease the suffocating heat of the cell. The walls, the floors, the ceiling—it was all too close.
And still, her voice echoed.
Serve me… and they go free.
For a heartbeat—asinglebreath—I thought about it. Thought about saying yes.
If it meant Darian got to a healer. If it meant Brynelle and Shaelith could go home. If it meant Varyth didn’t die here, in the dark, surrounded by blood that was half mine.
Wouldn’t it be worth it?
But I knew it was a lie.
Even if Xyliria let them go, it wouldn’t last. She’d hunt them down one by one, hang their freedom to reel me back in. And what if she made me hurt them? What if she turned me into the thing they feared?
Saying yes wasn’t an option.
I glanced around again. The others were deeply asleep. I’d promised a warning if they started to stir.
Because Fenric’s shallow breathing had turned ragged an hour ago, little whimpers escaping him. But it was the tremblingthat made my chest tighten, the way Fenric’s entire frame shook like he was trapped in some nightmare he couldn’t wake from.
“Hey,” Linc whispered, voice rough with his own pain but infinitely gentle. He’d managed to crawl across the stone floor despite the obvious agony it cost him. “I’m here.”
His hands found their way into Fenric’s hair—tangled and matted with blood, but he combed through it anyway, fingertips massaging Fenric’s scalp with a devotion that belonged in temples. Every touch spoke of worship, of a love so fierce it burned away everything else.
Fenric tilted his head up, eyes clearer now, and Linc met him halfway. A kiss so gentle it was barely there, just the ghost of connection. Proof of life.
I squared my shoulders, shifting my position, trying to ease the weight off my shattered leg.I bit back another groan as pain flared, the bone grating under my skin.
Cindrissian moved without warning. I tensed as he crossed the short space between us silently.
His hands reached for my leg. I flinched. Couldn’t help it.
Not because I thought he would hurt me.Just becauseeverythingalready hurt.
He paused, waited.
Then, after a beat, he resumed, his fingers brushing over the makeshift brace that had been tied around the break.A branch.A decayed, half-rotted fucking branch, the only thing we had found on the floor of the cell. It had worked well enough at the time. Kept the bone in place.But now?
Now it wasn’t enough.
Cindrissian unwound the bindings, his movements slow and efficient. He worked in silence, his hands deft and precise.
I watched him, because there was nothing else to do. His dark brows were furrowed in concentration, the way he studiedthe injury, taking in every detail. His expression remained unreadable, his grip steady.
A few minutes passed, the silence stretching between us.
