“The soldiers at the wagon told us what direction you had run in.” Pyetar stormed toward her, eyes still searching the trees. “It isn’t hard to track a pack racing through the forest. Where are the rest of them?”
“The cliff.” Talking was getting harder, her body shaking slightly. “They went over.”
Vaneshta dropped to her knees at Iryana’s side, eyes wild and her braid nearly undone. “You’re bleeding.”
Iryana sat there in a daze as more soldiers surrounded her, some staring over the cliff’s edge and some standing guard. Vaneshta started removing Iryana’s armor, and Iryana jerked with surprise when Lidishta kneeled down to help, eyeing her suspiciously.
“You took on an entire pack on your own,” Lidishta snapped. “So stop moving?”
When the leather peeled away from her red-stained shirt, it revealed an arc of puncture wounds below her left collarbone. The wounds weren’t as deep as she’d thought, though they stung, and it hurt to move.
The world seemed fuzzy and sluggish, things moving incredibly slowly, but somehow she was still missing things, like she kept jumping forward in time to catch up.
With a blanket wrapped around her body, someone pulled her to her feet. She recognized she was close to passing out, but Iryana forced herself to stay conscious. The soldiers kept looking at her in awe and amazement, and she had to stop herself from frowning at them.
“They were charging the fort,” a soldier remarked.
“Abandoned her post, left the other soldiers weaker, recklessly chased after a whole pack, could have gotten multiple soldiers killed,” Vaneshta mumbled, not happy. “But it’s fine because she saved the fort.”
Iryana shrank from Vaneshta’s reprimand.
Pyetar scoffed. “That’s dramatic.”
Iryana agreed, but perhaps if Karvek heard about it, he would appreciate the accomplishment. Or scorn her along with the others.
She watched Vaneshta walk away, discomfort crawling across her skin.
Iryana sort of felt like that dakya, willing to sacrifice itself for its cause, but Vaneshta wouldn’t understand that. She did not know what truly drove Iryana, who she was trying to protect. Vaneshta could only see her being reckless and the danger that put the others in.
When she was sitting on the cart, heading back toward Myura River, Pyetar walked beside her. Each bump and rock sent bursts of pain through her body, but she stared down the anger in his eyes. The rest of the soldiers spread further out, perhaps avoiding Pyetar and his mood.
“You’re off scouting until after the fights,” he said softly so no one else could hear.
Iryana jerked. Karvek’s night of fights was over a week away.
“You can’t do that,” Iryana argued. “I need a day, maybe two, and then I will be ready to go back on duty.”
Pyetar looked her over, lips slightly tilted. “You need to heal. Take the time to rest, and then you can continue throwing your life at every beast you encounter.”
“I am not being careless,” Iryana snapped before she realized that yes, she had been.
Pyetar laughed dryly, looking away from her and into the patchy canopy above them. “Why did you come back? You shouldn’t have.”
Iryana took a slow breath in, trying to calm her anger. She hated being told what to do, hatedhimtelling her what to do. But she couldn’t deny that what she was doing wasn’t enough.
Her hand gripped the edge of the cart, unable to stop herself from leaning back more.
“This is my only home now,” she answered coldly instead. “Where else would I go?”
Pyetar only shook his head, but his eyes softened. Iryana looked away, realizing she preferred letting the darkness have her over facing Pyetar and his questions. So she leaned back and closed her eyes.
It wasn’t long after they returned to the fort that Karvek summoned Iryana to his study.
Her pulse jumped as she entered, gaze flicking to where he sat. He wasn’t behind his desk like usual, but sprawled across a low leather couch, one arm draped across the back like he owned the world. His black uniform cut sharp lines against the pale blue-gray dakya skin thrown beneath him. The fortress outside his window was draped in muted grays, but the room was warmly lit on the inside.
He didn’t look up right away, just let her stand there in silence watching him. Uncertainty rose until it wrapped around her throat.
“Shut the door, Iryana,” he said finally, voice calm. Controlled.
