Garet scowled at him and shook his head. “We still have to get across the river.”
“Fuck.” Jos ran a tired hand down his face, looking between them, accepting the truth. Val was not going to let her go, and there was no way he would be able to carry her the full width of the river. “We’ll have to take the boat.”
Val nodded his gratitude, not trusting his voice to answer. He lifted Alanna higher in his arms and spread his wings to launch off the roof and over another road.
They scrambled up the slippery tiles and threw themselves into the air again. Again and again, as the roar of the crowd and the blaring of horns and whistles faded slowly behind them.
By the time they landed on the far wall at the back of the cemetery, thanking the gods that the guard they’d knocked unconscious was still lying bound and undiscovered where they’d left him, the air was burning in his lungs and acid scorched the back of his throat, filling his mouth with the taste of blood.
He stood, his arms and wings trembling in agony and exhaustion, unable to go another step forward. He had pushed himself through the pain in his howling body to the point of collapse. And he was terrified that he would drop Alanna.
Garret lowered himself into the boat with a thump and turned to stare up at him, his face unreadable, while Jos hovered in the air over the river.
Jos held out his arms. “You have to trust me. I promise I’ll take care of her.”
Val swallowed heavily against the burn in his throat. Once upon a time, he would have trusted these men with everything.
He looked down at Alanna, unconscious in his arms, her face nestled into his chest.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Opened them again to see Jos waiting patiently. And made the only decision he could. He leaned forward and placed her into Jos’s waiting arms, and then jumped heavily into the boat and collapsed into the back.
Jos followed a moment behind, landing far more lightly, then turned and, as gently as if it was his own sister that he carried, lowered Alanna into Val’s lap.
Val lifted a trembling hand to tenderly disentangle the arrow from her hair and then tucked a snarled strand softly behind her ear.
He closed his arms around her and held her tight against him as Jos and Garet pulled heavily on the oars and the boat surged forward, losing himself in the reassuring rise and fall of her chest, the slight flicker of her eyelashes.
This was all he would ever have. This one short moment when she was in his arms.
But she was alive. And she was free.
It had to be enough.
Chapter Seven
“She’s exhausted and in shock.”
“But she’s not hurt?”
“Well….”
“What are you not saying?” The voice rose on an indignant rasp. “How badly is she hurt?”
Were they talking about her? Why were there strange men in her room? No, that wasn’t right, not strangers. She’d know that demanding voice anywhere. Val.
She had seen him. She knew she had.
The last minutes leading up to her execution were a confused blur of noise and terror, but amongst it all, there was one thing she’d known with certainty, and that was that Val had come for her.
In the final moment, when she thought that her life was truly over, that she had lost Val without ever telling him how much he meant to her, her hallucination had turned into stunning, tangible reality, and he had swooped down to save her.
He had come for her. And now he was with her. It didn’t matter where they were; if Val was with her, she was safe. She let herself settle back down into the warm darkness as the discussion swirled around her.
Val was speaking again, his voice tight and unhappy. “Just tell me the truth!”
“Maybe it would help, Rafe, if you could give us an overview of all her injuries.” That gentle voice sounded like… Nim? Maybe?
The stranger’s voice sounded soothing but firm. “As I was saying, she’s exhausted and in shock, which are bad enough in their own right. She also had several beatings, as you can see. I can’t find any fractures, but the wounds on her back have reopened and—”
