A tap found my wrist. Roark’s warm, shocking eyes locked with mine. He moved his fingers against my palm.Take it.
I shook my head. “No. You’re…you’re a traitor.”
Roark shuddered, his jaw tensed.Not to you.
“It will destroy him, Lyra.”
I jolted and spun toward the trees. Emi, disheveled and coated in smudges of ash and dirt, stepped between two trees. She blinked, a tear falling to her cheek. When she swiped it away, a streak of mud smeared over her face.
Emi took out a knife from a sheath on her thigh. “The place where the fealty shard was taken must be removed or the craft binding the vow will kill him. If you care for him at all, even if it is only that you want answers, sever it.”
“You do it.” The thought of cutting through Roark’s bones was nauseating.
“Thane’s connection will overpower any forced severance unless it is a person to whom Roark holds more loyalty. You are where his loyalty lies.”
My pulse would not cease racing. Emi held out the knife. Roark’s body was damp and flushed. He gritted his teeth,watching my every move. No mistake, he was in a great deal more pain than he let on.
If what she said was true, the loyalty he’d vowed to Thane was stronger for me. He’d said as much on the lawns—burn it all if I kept breathing.
A furrow dug between my brows when I positioned the knife against the tip of Roark’s finger. Emi slid a damp twig between his teeth and drizzled the flesh and blade with ale.
She capped her skin with a shrug. “Best I can do right now.”
I glanced down at Roark. His eyes burned in the golden fire I loved. The man stole his way into my heart, and now his truth tore it in two.
I swallowed, hand trembling. “I want answers.”
He hesitated, but after a moment gave a quick nod.
I pressed down on the handle of the blade.
Roark’s neck arched, threaded in tension, his jaw so tight I thought he might bite through the twig. Emi made quick work of wrapping the bloodied tip.
“Dammit.” Emi faced her cousin, pressing her hands along his scar. Roark’s face had gone pallid and more blood spilled from the wound and down his chest. “Lyra, in my pack, I have bone tonics. Get them. Now!”
My fingers were locked in spasms of nerves, but I dug through Emi’s satchel until one hand curled around the cold glass of a jar. I crept to her side, unsealed the lid. Cedarwood and dust struck my nose.
“I was afraid of this. Dammit.” Emi wasted no time and dipped her fingers into the slate paste. “Roark, keep breathing. Don’t you dare stop.”
“What’s happening?”
“Someone is trying to regain control of the dark half. If they succeed and force the split when Roark is trying to hold his own control, it could kill him. We need to soothe the wound and calm the cruel edge.”
I didn’t understand much of anything, other than Emi thought this would kill Roark. His eyes were shut, his jaw taut, but his body wasn’t thrashing so violently.
Emi coated the bloodied gash with the paste, cursing when more blood poured through. “Gods. He’s moving too much; it keeps splitting the skin.”
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t even think long on what had been done to cause his wound. All I could think was how I didn’t want him to die. My fingers curled around his sweaty palm, and my other hand rested over his heart.
Roark’s shoulder twitched, but his hand tightened around mine, almost controlled and calm.
Emi’s hands stalled. She blinked to my touch, then grinned. “Keep doing that. Maybe talk to him.”
I looked down at his face. Beneath the blood and sweat, Roark was there. I combed my fingers through his hair.
“I don’t know what to say. Wake up, Roark Ashwood.” I let my brow fall to his chest. Blood on his tunic heated my skin. I didn’t pull back. “Wake up, so I can see your eyes when I kill you for all this.”
At least then I will know you’re alive.
