“You gave her your blood.”
The flush filled Cassiel’s face. “She was dying—and I—I did not know what else to do.”
“You saved her life yet again. I know what this means.”
Cassiel’s eyes widened. “You do?”
“It is illegal for Celestials to give their divine blood to humans. You could be found in contempt.”
“Oh, right …”
Zev was not sure if the Prince looked relieved or frightened by that. “It’s a grave law you’ve broken for her sake. Whatever repercussions may come against you, I’ll speak on your behalf and explain to your father what happened.”
“That is unnecessary,” he said uneasily.
“Thank you, Cassiel. She wouldn’t be alive if not for you.”
He cringed, the flush moving down his neck. “Please do not thank me.”
Zev tilted his head, trying to read him. “Why? It’s truly a debt I’ll never cease to pay.”
Cassiel sighed. “I only ask that you not speak a word of this. That will be thanks enough.”
Zev readily agreed. In exchange for saving her life, he would have said yes to anything.
* * *
Zev didn’t sleep much that night, nor did Cassiel. They sat with Dyna, waiting and hoping she’d wake. The more they waited, the more anxious they became. She was too still, her breath too quiet. Zev constantly listened for her heartbeat, and Cassiel checked her pulse.
After half a day with no change, they both tried to occupy themselves with menial tasks around camp like organizing their supplies, and scourging for food. At one point, Zev made the time to properly bury Tasnia. He owed it to her and Owyn.
At dawn the next day, both breathed a sigh of relief when Dyna’s eyes, at last, fluttered open. Her complexion had lost its color, face gaunt, and hair dull as though her vitality had been drained. It was, Zev thought as she gave them a wan smile, it went into him. He had to resign himself on the matter. Her health would improve once she recovered her Essence.
He insisted she eat, and Cassiel served them tea and manna bread from the last of his rations. As they ate, they discussed if they should continue traveling.
“You need another night of rest,” Zev said, trying not to grind his teeth at the sight of the purple shadows around her eyes.
Dyna shook her head, sipping from her cup. She huddled under a mound of blankets, not able to stop shivering.
Cassiel scowled at her. “We will not reach Corron before nightfall. Might as well sleep.”
“I don’t wish to waste any more time,” she said.
Zev reluctantly gathered their packs, and they went in search of the main road. Once it was found, they kept to the forest, using the barrier of tall shrubs between them and the road to conceal them from view. After a mile, Dyna seemed to gather more energy. She hummed to herself, picking sprigs along the way. Kneeling by a shrub, she tucked a lock of scarlet hair behind an ear and chewed on her lip as she wrote something in her notebook.
Whenever she stopped, so did the Prince. When she continued, so did he. Zev studied their peculiar movements. They moved in an odd synchronization, subconsciously mirroring each other. Periodically, they glanced at one another when the other was not looking.
Dyna stretched on her toes to scrape a loose piece of bark off a tree, and her petticoat swished aside, the slit exposing her smooth thigh. Cassiel reddened and looked away, meeting Zev’s amused smirk.
“What?” he asked defensively.
Zev arched a brow. “You’re acting strange.”
“Oh, am I?” Cassiel hiked his pack over his shoulder, moving past him. “Given last night’s events, I think that can be forgiven.”
“Right,” Zev said, falling into step next to him. “Sorry.”
“I’m a fool for not figuring it out sooner, even with the chains.”
