Arrow?
The back of her head throbbed, and she was confused, but the fog slowly cleared. The lake…Kilmartin. Searing pain radiated from her shoulder to her chest, up her neck, and down her arm.
She nodded, and a bolt of pain zinged down her arm.
“Shhh, stay still. notDaenae say anythin’, and try to relax.” Caden slowly breathed in and out, and she followed him.
The pain subsided slightly.
“Good.” He brushed her hair from her face. “I need to remove the arrow, Ava. Is that all right?”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and fear gripped her. She nodded, when more memories came flooding back.
“Nathan?” She looked around, ignoring the agony in her shoulder. She had to make sure he was safe and not watching this. “Where is he? Is he hurt?”
“Shh.” Caden rested a hand on her forehead, coaxing her back down. “He’s safe with Finlay.”
He ran his fingers through her hair to calm her. It felt soothing and somewhat distracted her from the arrow in her shoulder.
Then he readied the hot water and the cloths and hovered over her, a grimace twisting his face.
“Do ye ken what ye’re doing?” Ava teased with a smirk, if only to distract herself, trying to make light of this horrible situation.
“Aye,” he reassured her. “I’ve done this many a time in battle. Now, drink this.”
He held a glass of whiskey to her mouth and made her drink every last drop. It soothed her nerves after a few moments. Then he gave her another glass, which she downed quickly. The room spun slightly.
“Good. But be warned, it willnae take the pain away completely. This will hurt.”
Ava braced herself, as he filled another glass of whiskey, this time pouring it onto her wound. Before she could question him, he broke the arrow in half, and then pulled the part that was still piercing her flesh from her shoulder. She screamed with every tug and pull.
Never before had she felt such pain. Each tug felt like punishment for a sin she had not committed. At that moment, she wished for the sweet release of oblivion.
Finally, she was granted it when she passed out. Right the moment before everything turned black, she thought she heard Caden say “I’m sorry” like it was a prayer and she his goddess. What an absurd dream that had been.
Sometime later, she woke up still in Caden’s bed. The light outside had dimmed to purple and orange hues. Sitting up, she noticed the arrow was gone, and in its place lay a bandage. Her shoulder was clean of the gore, and Caden was washing the blood from his hands in the basin at the corner.
He turned to face her, his clothes still covered in the blood of the men he killed. “Ah, ye’re awake.”
He walked over to the bed, the mask still hiding half of his face. He wiped his hands with a cloth.
“How are ye feeling?”
“Tired, and me head hurts, but me shoulder feels much better without that blasted thing in it,” she admitted.
“It will leave a scar. Luckily, the arrow was intact; there were no splinters. Ye will be just fine once the wound heals.” He looked at her, but his eyes were distant.
Ava’s stomach turned. Something felt off. He felt distant and like she could not reach him. Maybe it was just the exhaustion and pain that made her see things oddly. She did chug down two glasses of whiskey, after all.
“Thank ye, Caden,” she said with a smile.
She had expected a reaction to her saying his name. She felt he had finally earned her respect, and she wanted to show it along with her gratitude.
Caden did not return her smile. It was as if he had been replaced with a different man before she woke up. He stood ramrod straight, his expression inscrutable.
Ava wanted to find out what was wrong. Maybe he had been hurt.
“How… how are ye feelin’ after such an…” No word seemed fitting for the hellscape that was today. “Intense morning?”
