“You don’t need a damn apple,” Theron snapped. “You need a healer.”
“I’m serious, Theron. The apples help.”
I felt him stiffen. “Wait. Are you serious?”
I uttered an impatient groan. Theron clutched me tighter with one hand, using his other to shuffle through my pack.
“Here.” He placed a cool apple in my palm. I immediately lifted it to my mouth and bit into it. It was ripe and delicious. The juice trickled down my throat, bringing a burst of flavor to the hazy dryness still lingering in my mouth.
“Mmm,” I hummed with satisfaction, letting my eyes close again. The fog in my head abated slightly. I took another small bite, savoring the sweetness of it.
“That’s why you urged me to eat an apple when I was injured,” Theron murmured, his voice sounding so close. As if his lips were right at my ear. I suppressed a shiver as that deep, rumbling timbre seemed to ripple right through me.
“Yes, you idiot,” I said. My head fell against his chest, but I didn’t care. “I was trying to help.”
Theron snorted. “You can’t blame me for thinking otherwise.”
I sighed sleepily. “You’re right. I can’t.”
We held still for another moment. I focused on my breathing as, bit by bit, clarity crept into my mind. The feverish heat of my body gradually faded, and I no longer felt like the world was spinning. I let myself rest against Theron’s chest while he held me. I didn’t care that we were covered in soot and sweat. I didn’t care that he was touching me, my skin now warm for a different reason. I didn’t care that I probably needed to pull away before one of us did something we regretted.
At long last, I lifted my head to find him watching me, his eyes full of intensity and longing. The corners of his eyebrows were pinched in concern, as if he still worried I might faint.
I swallowed hard, trying not to feel awkward. “I…” I cleared my throat. “Um. Thanks. For helping me through that. You can put me down now.”
“Right.” Theron carefully set me on the ground, his hands remaining on my waist in case I fell. I blinked a few times, testing my weight with one step. Then another.
No dizziness. No fog.
Theron’s hands fell from my waist, and I instantly yearned for his heat once more. His touch gave me strength. It had been so comforting. Empowering, even. Like with him holding me, I could overcome any obstacle.
I took a moment to take in my surroundings. We stood in a tiny copse of trees with a blanket of snow and leaves at our feet. Through the thin, leafless branches, I could make out the main road that led to Stella’s house. That meant we were near the outskirts of Tolston.
“Between your sickness and my blood, it will be a miracle if we make it to the palace,” Theron said, his voice full of dry humor.
I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay. I can just stab you again.”
He snorted. “Bet you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t lie, so I only grinned at him.
His expression sobered, and he lifted a hand to the patch of green spots just below my shoulder. His thumb grazed the faint pink scar, his touch feather-light. I closed my eyes, my skin pebbling with awareness from his gentle touch.
“I never got spots like this,” he said thoughtfully.
I opened my eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his lips thin. His brows drew together as a conflicted expression crossed his features.
“I don’t think the poison was in your system for long enough,” I said softly. “I did my research. Extensive doses of Demon Fae poison cause spots like this to appear all over one’s body.” My voice caught in my throat, and I took a shaky breath. “No one who had the spots ended up surviving.”
A muscle feathered in his jaw, and his nostrils flared. “You can’t give up, Eira. If you’ve survived this long, then maybe there’s still hope.”
I didn’t want to answer, because I was fairly certain therewasno hope. I just had to survive long enough to see my plan through. If I could de-throne Calista and get my seven human nobles on the court, then I knew the kingdom would be in safe hands.
I forced a chuckle. “Careful, hunter. You’re starting to sound like you actually care.”
He offered me a wry smile. “Imagine that.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pack and handed it to me. When I frowned at him, he gestured to his own ash-stained cheek. “For the soot.”
I chuckled and wiped my face, then handed it to him. He did the same. When he lowered the cloth, I smirked at the smear of ash still staining his forehead. “Here.”
