I looked around to see if there was anything in the vicinity that could help us. I swallowed hard as dread, thick and heavy, slid through my body.
We were in the Autumn Court.
“Think Nyleeria. Think,” I said aloud to myself, my mind racing to all the worst possible scenarios despite my best efforts to focus.
Breathing heavily through the panic, I knew one thing for sure—I had to get us back to the Summer Court.
I got Tarrin to the barrier, but it took long minutes he didn’t have to calm myself enough to coax the border to let us through only for it to push hard against me the moment it felt Tarrin’s presence as if able to discern him from me.
In the end, I gave it no other option but to let both of us through.
The second we crossed Luca freaked out all over again.
“Luca,” I yelled, “Stop it.”
He stepped back but continued to pace, his anxiety combined with mine setting every nerve on fire.
Panic was seconds from taking over my body. Before it could, I threw it into a mental room and kicked the fucken door shut. I could fall apart later. Tarrin needed me now, and I refused for the fate he suffered in my dream to become a reality.
Once down on my knees, I gingerly pulled back Tarrin’s sodden clothes which slurped as they tore away from the oozing flesh—and thank the gods he was unconscious, because my frayed nerves couldn't handle anything more than silence.
Now exposed, I surveyed the damage. Tarrin was wounded, mortally so. The fact that he was still alive was a miracle in itself. One thing was certain, he needed a fae healer, which meant there was only one option; I had to get him back to the Summer Palace.
Brushing hair away from his face, I leaned down and whispered, “It’s going to be okay. Just stay with me.”
I needed help, but Tarrin wouldn’t survive being carried or dragged by Luca, and me doing either was out of the question. It wasn’t until then that I wished, more than anything, that I’d been born fae. Had I been born of this realm, getting him to civilization would be a non-issue, I’d just valen him. The solution simple, as easyas breathing even. Not for me and my fickle magic and human upbringing.
I was left with one, desperate, stupid—I can’t believe I’m considering it—kind of option. One that would have never worked if we were still in the human realm.
“Fuck it.”
Standing, I tossed my bandolier to the ground, slipped off my shirt, reached down for a dagger, and before I could think better of it, I sucked in a sharp breath as I sliced a deep line down my forearm. Tilting the gash, blood pooled on the white fabric. Once enough blood soaked in that a fae could scent it from a distance, I tied it to Luca’s front leg.
“Go,” I said to Luca. “Find someone—anyone. Tarrin’s life depends on it.”
With one last flick of his tail, Luca bolted toward the treeline.
Glancing around, I reassessed our surroundings. We were fully exposed in a parched field filled with thistle, the summer sun close to its peak. The white crust around his cracked lips meant Tarrin was already dangerously dehydrated, and although the summer heat had stopped him trembling, if I didn’t do something to shield him from the elements, he’d die before help arrived.
We needed shade and water, but with the treeline too far away and no water in sight, my chest tightened.
Tarrin stirred then; his brow lined with pain.
“Shh,” I cooed kneeling back down. I brushed a thumb along his brow, blood dribbling from my arm to his forehead. “Shit,” I cursed, wiping it away. Ripping a thin strip of fabric from my skirt, I wrapped it around my arm, already knowing the rest of the fabric would become the only thing keeping him from bleeding out. But first, we needed shade. Or water. Or both.
The thought had me popping my head through the border into the Autumn Court where dark, gray clouds rendered the shade of the thinning canopy unnecessary. The sweet scent of rain offering me hope.
Returning to the summer side, I took in Tarrin’s injuries unable to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. “What did they do to you, my friend? What did they do?”
Taking a moment to compose myself, I decided the first course of action was to staunch the bleeding as much possible before I dragged him back to autumn.
I stepped out of my skirt and began ripping it into strips and larger squares.
After assessing what I could see, I decided to tackle the gash on his left thigh. Not because it was the worst of the bunch, but because it was the only one I could stomach.
Within seconds the long rectangular patch of fabric stopped the bleeding. Reaching for some of the larger strips, I wrapped it tight around his muscular thigh and tied off the ends as tight as I could manage with my bloodied hands.
I moved fast, methodically working my way around his body, ensuring there would be enough material for the gaping abdomen and chest wounds.
