Then pain came.
Her ribs burned every time her chest rose. One arm felt wrong—bent, heavy, useless. A dull throb hammered at the base of her skull, sending jolts down her neck. She tried to move and couldn’t.
Beneath her, the surface was too soft to be stone. Not the rough bite of a battlefield floor but something padded, linen against her skin. The faint smell of herbs clung to the fabric. A bed.
Rynna forced her eyes shut more firmly and internally catalogued the damage. Broken arm. At least three cracked ribs. Her head—fractured skull, maybe. And the blood loss—too much.
Normally, that kind of depletion slowed everything, giving the vampiric infection power as it gnawed at the edges of her control. Yet her thoughts remained her own, and her body was working. It was sluggish, but itwashealing. She could feel the tug of bone knitting back together, muscle drawing closed.
Surprise flickered in her gut.
“I fed her a large bottle of pig’s blood.” The words cut through the fog, muffled but clear enough to sting.
Well, that explained it. Her tongue worked against her teeth, tasting the thick remnants of blood that wasn’t her own. Animal wasn’t ideal, but it’d help in a pinch.
“Given what you told me of her, it seemed prudent,” came the voice again, thin and aged. “Though I still think we should have taken the opportunity to free ourselves of both, rather than heal them.”
Rynna’s lungs seized. Every nerve screamed at her to move, to bare fangs, to defend herself, but she stayed where she was, muscles locked, lashes pressed.
“You will keep that opinion to yourself, Granny.” Mira’s voice cut through next. “They protected our young, not to mention all of you, against an army.”
“They should have died,” the old woman pressed. “They are too dangerous to keep here. And he broke the mandate against using the Source.”
Kae.
Alive.
Kaelith. She reached down the mental link, careful not to twitch a single muscle.
Welcome back, pet.Cool pressure slipped into her mind, soothing, calm.Stay quiet if you can. We need to hear what they’re saying.
He was close. Alive.
Relief rippled through her so sharply her throat nearly closed.
The last thing she remembered was stone and debris slamming into her head, her body failing beneath the wall, and his frame bent over hers. Each strike that followed had made him flinch but not move. She had been sure it was the end—that she’d wake in some strange world, blank and alone.
Her heart clenched. She had nearly lost him.
“Enough.” Mira spoke from across the room again. “The Mistress herself named them family. We will honor them as we would any other brother or sister of the Hearth.”
Shuffling, the Granny muttered, words swallowed, but the sound of her steps retreated.
So glad they didn’t decide to kill us in our sleep,Kaelith drawled, lazy in her head.
Rynna snorted before she could stop it, the sound breaking her careful stillness.
“Done pretending, are we?” Mira’s voice came from directly beside her bed, far too close.
“Ahh!” The noise spiked pain through Rynna’s skull.
She hissed, eyes squeezing shut as she raised a shaky palm to the side of her head. Then another presence—Kaelith at her other side. Fingers threaded through hers while his other hand slid beneath her neck, cradling her head with a care that made her chest ache.
“Are you okay?” His voice was low, but she heard the strain in it, the edge of fear buried beneath control.
“Yeah.” The word rasped out as her lashes parted a fraction, before... “Ahhh…” Blinding light suddenly stabbed into her eyes, forcing them closed again.
Rynna?Kaelith leaned closer, the smell of smoke and moss nearly overwhelming her.
