Rynna raised an eyebrow, watching at least ten kids, all under ten, swarm the grumpy boy.
“Renny! Tell us again!” They hugged onto him, shouting, even as he tried to push them off.
Bran rolled his eyes dramatically. “We've heard the story at least ten times in the last day.”
“A day?” Rynna asked, blinking. She’d been out that long?
Fenn groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, wincing from his injuries. “Yes. You were so pale, we weren’t sure you’d...” His voice trailed off, and then Elara jumped in.
“You lost so much blood!” Elara exclaimed. “By the time I got myself closed up using body techniques.” She beamed, then continued, “You’d somehow healed most of your wounds, but your heart was barely beating. I didn’t know what to do!”
Rynna nodded. It made sense. Her abilities could heal a lot, but blood loss was harder to recover from. She had to take it from others.
Fenn glanced between Bran and Elara, then back at her. “Why don’t you two help Taren get dinner ready for the younglings? I’ll catch Rynna up.” He looked back at Rynna, concern knitting his brow. “If you’re well enough to walk.”
“Yeah.” Rynna struggled to her feet. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but before she could fall, Fenn was there, his arm steadying her.
Behind them, the sounds of Bran, Elara, and Taren wrangling the children began to fade. And as the whispers of wind through the trees slowly drowned out the laughs andsqueals, Fenn led her away from the group. Each step felt heavier, quieter, until the chaos of camp was just a distant hum.
He guided her to a large, smooth rock, setting her down carefully before crouching next to her, his eyes locked on her face, observing every tiny movement.
Rynna winced, heart pounding. She waited for the inevitable, for the words that would tell her she was no longer part of them, that after what she’d done, what she’d shown him, there was no place for her here anymore.
But instead, his voice broke, thick with emotion. “You saved us,” he whispered, dropping his head into her lap, shaking. “I almost killed you...almost killed everyone. My corrupted blood couldn’t fight it. I saw it all but couldn’t stop myself.”
Her mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. She hadn’t expected this. “It was the Veilroot.”
Fenn shook his head, his fingers gripping her hips tightly, his whole body shaking against hers. “The Elders were right about me. But it doesn’t matter. It’s my job to protect you. I failed.”
“Fenn...” She ran her fingers through his hair. “You did protect us. Even after everything. That Crow, whoever he was, would’ve killed everyone and taken Bran.”
“If I can’t handle a single rogue Hollow-born.” He looked up at her, his voice trailing off. “It’s time for me to retire. Even with whatever those shadows were.”
“Yes, yes,” she cooed, wiping the tears from his eyes with her thumb. “Big, strong Vessel.”
He snorted, and as he glanced down, he seemed to realize for the first time that he was kneeling between her legs, his hands resting on her hips, their faces only inches apart.
Hesitating, his fingers tightened against her waist as he whispered her name. “Rynna?”
“Yeah?” Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, each beat louder than the last.
His hand moved to her face, stroking her cheek with a tenderness that belied the pain he'd been carrying. “I don’t see how you could possibly forgive me...but I swear I will never hurt you like that again.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Fenn.” She tipped his chin up with her thumb, letting her fingers slip below the mask and along his lower lip before brushing lightly over the cool metal of one pointed canine. Only then did she lean in, close enough that their noses brushed. “And there is nothing wrong with you. The Veilroot took an entire village before you.”
If she ever found out which of the Elders had hurt him this way…words did not exist for what she would do to them.
His shoulders sagged in response, as though he was only just starting to believe her.
Then his fingers traced her chin, and for a moment, everything else faded until there was only the two of them. He lowered his mask, raising his lips to hers, the kiss soft and hesitant, but filled with the promise of something more.
And as he finally allowed her to claim him, all thoughts of the blood, and fear, and all the things yet to be said melted away.
He never asked her about her own fangs or the blood drinking, and she never brought it up again. It didn’t matter. This…this was enough.
Chapter twenty-six
“Wefinallygettoenjoy a hot spring.” Elara sighed, sinking into the steaming water beside Rynna. “I wonder if the boys are enjoying it as much as we are.”
