“She’s alive,” Mae breathes. “They both are.” She drops to her knees beside me. “Let me see.”
I flinch as she lifts my arm to reveal a sickly green sheen that glistens around the wound in my ribs, slowly spreading outward.
“Fireroot,” Mae whispers, voice tight with dread. She turns to Keiren. “The sword must’ve been laced with it.”
Keiren’s face hardens into stone. “I’ll take care of her. Take the others to the infirmary. Now.”
Mae hesitates, glancing between us, then nods. Arther lifts Mariel with impossible gentleness. Blood trails down from her temple. Mae gathers Cassy close, murmuring quiet reassurances as she guides her toward the door.
When it closes, silence settles in their wake, thick and suffocating.
My vision blurs as Keiren’s face hovers inches from mine, shifting into something familiar. My heart begins to pound.
No, not Keiren’s face.His.
The scent of wine and iron floods my senses. Hands too rough. Breath that reeks of power and cruelty. A voice that snarls my name like it’s a curse.
I’m back in that room. Pinned down. Screaming. Unheard.
“No!” The word tears from my throat as I shove at his chest. “Get away from me!”
“Fire—”
“Don’t touch me!” I scramble back, dragging my dagger with me. My whole body trembles, slick with sweat. The wound in my side burns like fire tearing through my ribs. My vision fractures, flicking from his face to Keiren’s.
“It’s the poison,” he says softly. His voice sounds far away. “Whatever you’re seeing—it’s not real.”
“I can’t move,” I whisper through clenched teeth. The pain twists, deeper now, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
He takes a slow breath, raising his hands with his palms open like a peace offering. “Then let me carry you.”
“Don’t—please.” The words come out broken, desperate.
“Guide me,” he says quietly. “Show me where I can touch you.”
“I can’t… ”
“Yes, you can.” His voice is adamant. “You’re the fiercest, most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, and you will not die tonight.”
Something in his tone breaks through the panic. I nod, barely. My hands shake as I reach out, placing one of his hands at my back and the other under my knees.
Only then does he move, lifting me into his arms with impossible care. The motion sends another wave of agony through my body. I choke on a cry and collapse against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat anchoring me as the world starts to slip away.
When I wake, I’m falling. No—flying. The wind roars incessantly past my ears. My body jolts as if dropped into a river of ice. I scream, flailing, lungs locking up—
And then his arms are there, cutting through the cold.
My back presses against his chest, and the world steadies.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my ear. His hot breath ghosts over my skin.
“It burns,” I gasp. The pain is molten, snaking through my veins.
“I know, love,” he whispers. “Just hold on.”
I sob, clutching at him like the sound of his voice is my only tether to reality. The cold water sears where it touches the wound. The sizzling hiss of it is terrible, like flesh meeting flame.
“Guess I’ve earned my nickname,” I gasp, half-delirious.
