VARGATH
Iposition myself between Seris and the cave mouth, every muscle coiled tight as a bowstring. The baby's soft breathing mingles with Seris's exhausted sighs, and I catalog every sound, every shift in their breathing patterns. My hand rests on my axe hilt—not drawn, but ready.
When Brittany approaches with a clean cloth, I step sideways, blocking her path.
"She's fine," I growl, not taking my eyes off the cave entrance where shadows dance in the firelight.
"I just want to?—"
"She's fine."
Kaela shoots me a look that could melt steel. "Vargath, she needs to be cleaned up. There's still bleeding, and the baby should be examined."
"I can see him breathing. He's perfect." My grip tightens on the axe. "No one else needs to touch them."
The scrape of boots on stone makes me whirl toward the entrance, but it's only Drokhar stepping into the flickering light. His scarred face carries the weight of command and something harder—urgency that sets my teeth on edge.
"We need to move," he says without preamble. "Nightfall brings patrols. Dark elf hunting parties have been spotted two valleys over."
"She's not moving." The words come out flat, final. "Look at her."
I gesture toward Seris, who lies pale and spent against the furs, our son cradled against her chest. Blood still stains the blankets beneath her, and her hands shake when she tries to lift her head.
"She just gave birth," I continue, my voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "She's bleeding, weak, barely conscious. You want me to throw her on a horse and ride through enemy territory?"
Drokhar's jaw tightens. "I want you to think beyond the next hour. Every moment we stay here increases the risk of discovery. If we're found, none of this matters."
"If I move her now, she could bleed out before we reach wherever you think is safe." I step closer, using my height to loom over him. "That's not a risk. That's a certainty."
"You're being emotional."
The accusation hits like a slap. Heat flares through my chest, and I bare my teeth. "Emotional? I'm being practical. You're the one acting out of fear."
Drokhar's eyes flash. "Fear? I'm trying to keep us all alive. You're so focused on protecting them that you're blind to the larger threat."
"The larger threat?" I laugh, the sound harsh in the confined space. "The larger threat is you pushing us to move before she's stable. You want to risk three lives to maybe avoid a danger that might not even come."
"Might not—" Drokhar takes a deep breath, visibly controlling himself. "There are orc patrols from three different clans sweeping these mountains. Raiders who would kill her forsport and take the baby for gods know what purpose. This cave offers no real protection."
"It offers more protection than the open road with a woman who can barely sit up."
"She's stronger than you think."
"She's human!" The words explode from me, louder than I intend. Behind me, the baby makes a soft sound of distress, and I immediately lower my voice. "She's human, and she just pushed our son into the world with nothing but will and fury. Her body needs time to recover, not more trauma."
Drokhar crosses his arms, scars pulling tight across his massive frame. "And while we wait for her to recover, how many search parties narrow their circle around us? How many scouts pick up our trail?"
"Then you leave. Take your people and go. We'll follow when she's ready."
"That's not how this works."
"It is now."
"Enough." Kaela's voice slices through our argument like a blade through leather. Both Drokhar and I turn toward her, mouths still open with unspoken retorts. She stands with her hands on her hips, firelight casting sharp shadows across her face. "You're both acting like children fighting over the last piece of meat."
My jaw clenches. "This isn't?—"
"Stop." She holds up a hand, and something in her tone makes me swallow the words. "You want to know what the real danger is? It's this fire. Every minute we keep it burning, we might as well be sending smoke signals to every patrol within ten miles."
