“Help!” she yelled. “Somebody help us, please!” Her voice echoed, reverberating off the mountains and geyser-filled land.Please, please don’t let the rebels hear me and come back.
She had no choice, not if she didn’t want Aerén to bleed out. The leader of the skinhead trio had mentioned enforcers patrolling the area. So, they could be the good guys, right? God, she hoped so.
She sprinted back inside.
A soft groan reached her ear. Relief coursed through as dull silver eyes met hers. “Caeli?”
She frowned. “It’s Leya.” He just had to call her by some other woman’s name.
“Don’t…go.”
“I won’t.”
His eyes shut.
“Aerén?” Only silence answered her.
Dammit! Trying to reel in her panic, Leya started CPR again. “Christ, please, please, let someone come.” She pressed on his chest with her palms.One, two—
“Yeah, he’s not going to revive by you doing that.”
CHAPTER9
At the strange voice,Leya twisted around, fear twisting her insides.
A huge man loomed in front of her, and she fell to her backside. Shit! She scrambled for Aerén’s dagger on the ground and jumped up, wielding the weapon.
Above the pounding ruckus of her heart, it registered that this man had hair, even if it was cut in a mohawk. Tattoos peeked out from the neckline of his t-shirt, but he didn’t have any ink of hammer and swirls on the side of his brow. Not a rebel, then. Yet, her wariness didn’t ease.
Another tall man strolled inside, his inky mane pulled in a bun. Startling azure eyes settled on her as he stopped at Mohawk’s side.
“Wh-who are you?” she demanded, remaining protectively in front of Aerén. She planted her feet on the ground, legs wide to still their shakiness.
Mohawk cocked an eyebrow, lifting his blue-gold stare from the dagger she aimed at his chest. “It begs the question, what are you and the Empyrean doing so far out—right in Darkrean territory?” he countered.
Were Aerén and these men at war?
God, she wished she knew because it sure sounded like it. “I don’t know anything about Darkrean territory or where we are.”
“He knows.” Mohawk jerked his chin at Aerén.
“Yeah, well. He can’t answer us, c-can he?” Away from Aerén’s heat, the freezing chill seeped through her clothes. She shivered, and her teeth clattered. “A r-rebel shoved me through a portal into this world. Aerén s-saved me.”
Mohawk’s eyes narrowed. “A rebel?” His gaze lowered to Aerén lying on the ground and back to her. “He did this?”
She nodded. “There was a bunch of them here.”
Their expressions hardened.
“I’ll scout the place.” Man-bun guy strode out of the cave.
“P-please, you have to help us.” Leya lowered the dagger, rubbing one prickly palm down her thigh. “He’s hurt b-badly.”
“Hmm…” He scratched the shaved side of his head. “He won’t thank me. But here goes…” Mohawk moved past her, snagged Aerén’s biceps, then grasped her hand. Before she could ask him what he was doing, the cave faded. Her surprised squeak stuck in her throat as her body took on the consistency of air…
Moments later, they reformed in a room with beds. Maybe an infirmary? Leya groaned, collapsing on one of them to get her heaving stomach to calm down.
Incredible warmth, and the scents of incense and some kind of herbs she wasn’t familiar with, wafted throughout the room. Mohawk settled Aerén on the last bed.
