The words settled between them like falling ash.
And still, she didn’t flinch.
58
Icould hear every ragged breath rattling in Darian’s chest, feel the fever pulsing off him in waves as he drifted in and out of consciousness. His wounds were shallow—but that didn’t matter. Not when the infection was ravaging him from the inside. Not with that cursed collar choking off his magic. Without a healer, his body was losing.
So was Fenric’s.
His wounds weren’t closing. Still bleeding days later. No matter what we did.
I didn’t stop moving.
Lincatheron was at Darian’s side now, he cradled his head with trembling care while Varyth pressed a cool cloth to his skin. They rarely spoke.
Brynelle and Shaelith had taken first watch. Now they were curled against the far wall, huddled in a sleep that wasn’t rest. Brynelle’s arm was wrapped around Shaelith like she could hold her together. Shaelith didn’t even stir.
I tore another strip of fabric. Drenched it. Pressed it to Fenric’s side, where the blood kept coming. My hands were slick. My arms shook.
Cindrissian was beside me. His hands over mine, helping me hold the fabric tight against the deep gash across Fenric’s ribs. His touch was steady where mine had begun to shake, his presence a silent anchor in the chaos.
I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t afford to. Not with the blood still welling, not with the uselessness that clawed at my throat.
I neededDarian to live. I needed Fenric tostop bleeding. I neededone gods-damned win.
Instead, the fucking guards came.
They tore me away.Tore Varyth away.
The first time we’d been takentogether. That meant nothing good.
Xyliria sat at the head of the room, her legs crossed, watching us like a cat lounging in the sun.
“I hear you’re in need of a healer.”
I didn’t answer.
Varyth stayed silent too. But his presence was loud beside me, the coiled rage, the way his breath was too controlled,his fingers curling into fists.
“How rude,” Xyliria mused.“I’m offering assistance, and you don’t even say thank you?”
Still, we did not speak.
“I’m also aware,” she purred with satisfaction. “That my husband has been playing with a new toy.”
My chest tightened.
I turned my head?—
And metAshterion’s cold, midnight-blue stare. Something jagged stirred beneath his mask.He looked paler than usual. As if whatever was wrong lingered in his veins.
But his lips curved into a slow, cruel smirk. “Humans are such a rarity,” he said, as if discussing afascinating relic. “I was curious.”
A pit of ice formed in my stomach.
I locked my spine straight. Refused to react.
Xyliria’s grin sharpened.She had been waiting for this.
