My turn.
I looked down at the ravine and felt my stomach drop. The slope wasn't vertical, but it was steep enough that I'd need both hands free to climb, and the rocks were glazed with ice that caught the light like glass. My right thigh throbbed at the mere thought of tackling it with a leg that could barely support my weight on flat ground.
Don't slow us down.
I stepped to the edge and started to lower myself over, testing my weight on my good leg first, reaching for a handhold...
A hand closed around my upper arm.
I looked up. Daska stood beside me, shaking his head slowly. Before I could protest he simply picked me up.
Not a dramatic sweep-off-my-feet gesture. Nothing romantic about it. He just hooked one arm under my knees and the other around my back and lifted me against his chest like I weighed nothing at all.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, I grabbed his neck on pure instinct, my fingers digging into the leather of his collar, every muscle in my body going rigid. The slope dropped away beneath us and I could feel the shift of his weight as he navigated the descent, each footfall deliberate, his balance perfect despite carrying me and moving across terrain that had nearly sent Nathan sprawling.
His arms didn't waver. Not even a tremor. I might as well have been a bundle of kindling for all the strain I seemed to cause him. I considered arguing for a moment, but self preservation won out over pride and I kept still as he slowly made his way down. He was warm. Radiantly, impossibly warm, like he carried his own personal furnace beneath that broad chest. The heat of him seeped through my thin jacket and into my frozen skin, and despite every rational thought screaming at me to maintain some dignity, my body relaxed into it. Leaned into it. Like a cat finding a patch of sunlight after a long, cold night. I could feel the steady drum of his heartbeat against my shoulder, could feel the shift and bunch of muscle as he navigated the descent with the same unhurried confidence he brought to everything. His arms were solid around me—not crushing, not restrictive, just safe.
The word surfaced unbidden, and I tried to shove it back down where it came from. I didn't get to feel safe. Not here, not now, not in the arms of a man I'd known for less than two days who couldn't even tell me where we were going.
But my body wasn't listening to my brain. My body, traitorous and exhausted and starved for warmth, had decided that Daska's arms were the safest place it had been since before Nathan shattered our bond, and it was not interested in letting go.
We reached the frozen stream at the bottom. I felt him adjust his footing, testing the ice before committing his weight, and his arms tightened fractionally around me, an unconscious protective gesture that made something behind my ribs ache ina way that had nothing to do with injury. The ice held. Of course it held. He moved across it with the same steady sureness, and I watched the pale surface slide beneath us, cracked and clouded, the dark water visible in places where the freeze hadn't quite taken.
The ascent on the far side was steeper. I felt his breathing deepen, his core engaging as he climbed, but still his arms didn't shake. Still he held me like I was something worth carrying carefully. I could feel the vibration of his chest when he exhaled, could feel the way his fingers adjusted their grip, not tightening, just shifting, finding better purchase, making sure I wasn't going to slip.
I should say something. Make a joke. Break the tension.
But my mouth wouldn't cooperate. The warmth was doing something terrible to me. Melting through layers of exhaustion and grief and the bone-deep cold that had settled into me since the storm, reaching something underneath that I'd thought was permanently frozen. My eyelids felt heavy. The rhythm of his footsteps was steady as a metronome, each one sending a gentle rocking motion through my body that was dangerously, devastatingly soothing.
Don't you dare fall asleep, Ells. Don't you dare…
CHAPTER 11
DASKA
Iwoke before dawn, the way I always did.
The fire had burned low during the night, reduced to glowing embers that cast barely enough light to see by. Around me, the pack slept in the heavy stillness that came after a hard day's travel. Even Rivik's breathing had finally deepened into something approaching rest, though I knew he'd wake at the first wrong sound.
I rose carefully, wrapping my furs closer against the cold that bit through everything this deep into winter. I checked the injured male first. He slept peacefully now, his colour better and his breathing steady. The poultices had done their work. Human bodies were strange. They were slower to heal than ours and more fragile in some ways. A shifter with a broken leg might recover in less than one moon cycle, but humans might take double or even triple that time. The man would need food and shelter for that time, and I assumed that was what Rivik had in mind when he’d insisted we take them back with us. His decisionhad been on my mind since he’d made it. Wolves were not known for adopting strangers. I was the exception and although Rivik treated me no different to the rest of the pack, I would always be the lowest status, and had never quite fit it in. We could have just left the travellers with our travel supplies, some weapons and food enough to last them, and headed back in our spirit forms. I had a feeling there was more to Rivik's decision than he was saying.
I moved to tend the fire, adding wood with careful precision to coax it back to life without creating too much smoke. The familiar rhythm settled something in my chest. This was my role. This was what I knew how to do.
Heal. Protect. Watch over those who couldn't watch over themselves.
My gaze drifted to Ellie.
She had fallen asleep in my arms as we crossed the ravine, and I hadn’t woken her. The healer in me argued it rested her leg to have me carry her, but in truth, I had enjoyed the feel of her body against mine. I'd carried her the rest of the way in silence, barely breathing, terrified that any wrong step would break the spell.
When we'd made camp, I'd laid her down on the thickest furs I had and arranged them around her with a care that bordered on reverence. She hadn't stirred. Hadn't even twitched when I'd checked her bandage one final time, my fingers lingering on her smooth thigh a moment or two longer than strictly necessary.
Now she lay curled on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. The firelight caught the curve of her jaw, the soft mess of her hair, the shadow of her lashes against her cheekbone. For a moment, I was distracted by that strong pull toward her in my chest, and if I was being honest, in other areas too. Then I moved, closer, suddenly noticing the way her body was drawn in on itself in a way that spoke of pain even in sleep. Her breathing came too quick and shallow, and even from here I could see theflush across her cheekbones that had nothing to do with warmth. I moved the fur slightly, to press the palm of my hand on her leg. It was hot to touch, as as I moved the furs aside, the sweet rotting smell of the blood curse hit me. My stomach tightened.
I'd been worried about this from the start. There had been so much dirt in the wound and although I’d treated the leg yesterday and applied fresh poultices this morning, wrapped it properly, but the blood curse didn't always care about proper treatment if it had already taken hold deep in the tissue. It didn’t occur often in shifters, we healed far too quickly for the cursed spirits to enter the blood, but I had seen it a few times before, usually in packs where they didn’t have a trained healer. Once I had even seen the curse kill the wolf it had taken. And humans were vulnerable in ways my people weren't. She was vulnerable.
The thought came with a surge of frustration, not at her, but at the situation. At my own failure to insist on examining the wound before sleeping. I had been exhausted from carrying her so far, and Ellie had been too. She had barely reacted when I laid her down on the furs, and I’d let her sleep, not wanting to wake her. Now I cursed myself for that decision.
I knelt beside her and carefully peeled back the bandage, working the leather strips free with fingers that I willed to stay steady despite the dread building in my chest.
