Somewhere between pulse and nothingness, I hear him. Warmth, not the scorching kind from the mating fire, not the fever from the bond, but something steadier.
The second thing I feel is... breath. It ghosts along my temple, warm and steady. A heartbeat thuds against my chest, too largeto be my own—the rise and fall of a chest beneath me lulling me back under.
I blink a couple of times to orient myself. The ceiling above me is unfamiliar—dark wood with frost crawling in the corners. Snow hums quietly against the windows.
How did I get here?
My body aches, my throat’s sore, and my legs won’t move right. But then I feel him.Andrik. Oh, thank God. He’s coiled around me like a giant, fluffy serpent.
One clawed hand rests lightly over my wrist, the other is wrapped snuggly around my waist. His antlers scrape the wall behind us with each exhale.
My hand twitches against something smooth and cold. I look down and find Anna’s locket curled in my grasp.
How—
I gasp softly. Something in my chest aches. It’s a strange feeling, like something is open and leaking.
“Andrik?”My voice is a dry whisper. His head jerks up so fast that a piece of the headboard snaps.
“Lumi!” His voice booms, and my head spins. “Thar’mira saelûn... etra’ven.”
His massive form shifts over me, hands trembling where they cup my jaw,
“I thought?—”
He stops, swallowing hard.
“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up.”
I want to speak, to reach for him, but my body feels like it’s being dragged down with wet stones.
I manage a breath. “What happened?”
He closes his eyes, forehead pressing to mine. “Thatveylrûndrugged you again,” his voice is a barely contained snarl. “He shot you with a dart, right before we?—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but my body remembers: The bond. The heat. His mouth.
My cheeks flush, and my eyes fall to the blanket. That’s when I notice the faint shimmer on my chest—a cool dampness, tinged with the strong scent of copper. I blink down at it. There’s a symbol drawn in blood across my sternum.
“What… is this?”
Andrik follows my gaze. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. His claws tighten against the blankets.
“A vow,” he says quietly. “An old one. A rite to keep you safe while you slept.”
He flexes his hand absently. His palm is blistered, raw, and the skin is split open in the faint shape of a circle. “It’s part of the rite,” he adds, as he tries to hide his hand from me. “The sigil burns into the one who casts it.”
“Kept me safe while I was asleep? Did you need to go somewhere?”
“I never left,” he says. “I haven’t closed my eyes. I won’t until I know you’re safe.”
My breath hiccups. “Andrik.”
His gaze flicks up to mine. He looks absolutely feral, his beautiful white fur stained with blood. Eyes bloodshot and glazed over like a creature on edge. His hair falls in wild tangles around his face.
“You scared me, Lumi,” he says. “More than anything else ever has.”
I reach for his wrist with weak fingers, tracing the underside where his pulse hammers. “I didn’t mean to.”
