“Don’t you dare die on me,” he warned as he stripped the remains of her blood-soaked gown from her body and tossed it in a heap to the ground. “It is not your time, do you understand?”
There was a ridiculous kind of irony in his quiet demand, one he recognized all too well. Had she not done the same to save his life so many months prior? Had she not pleaded with the stars to return him to her? Had she not wished him back to life?
His jaw locked, a dull ache forming at the base of his neck, as he set to work. He was hardly a healer, medicinal remedies were outside of his realm of expertise, but growing up he watched his mother save the lives of numerous dragon riders. His skills were by no means expert, but he knew enough to at least try to keep Caelian alive until he could fetch a proper healer.
Tearing a cotton sheet into thin strips, he bound the gash on her thigh, then applied pressure to the one on her abdomen. Carefully, he slid his arm beneath her waist, easing her off the bed so he could wrap the bandage snugly around her. Soaking the linen in a pail of hot water, his heart slammed against the constricted wall of his chest as he rinsed out the rag. The water turned scarlet. In his mind, he went over all the reasons he was supposed to hate her. Why he could barely tolerate her. Why it was in his best interest to have absolutely nothing to do with her. Lies his head told his heart over and over again. Yet as he knelt by her on the bed, gently wiping away the blood smearing her frail body, the truth spilled from him in a series of harsh whispers.
“I need you to stay with me, Starweaver. It’s time to wake up now.” He dabbed the damp cloth on her cheek and chin. “Westill have many things to discuss, you and I. There are many arguments left between us.”
He held his breath, but her eyes did not open.
“Damn it, Caelian. Quit being so stubborn and come back to me.” He cupped the side of her face, tracing her cheekbone with his calloused thumb. “This is not how you leave me. Not like this. Not ever. If and when your soul decides to depart from this world, then it will go hand in hand with mine.”
She flinched then, a gargled gasp escaped her, and his heart lurched.
“Mine.” The word fell from her papery lips on a scrape of air.
And Kjeld ran for the fae healer.
CHAPTER NINE
Caelian did not want to open her eyes.
At least, not yet.
She much preferred to stay in the land of dreams, where stars fell into the ocean like diamonds, and where she could wander the gardens where wishes were born. Here, she did not feel as though she’d been crushed by a giant boulder. Here, her muscles weren’t weak and her bones weren’t brittle. There was a kind of serenity in this place. The quiet didn’t drive her mad, and her lack of magic was no longer a source of agony.
But the pull to return was greater than she imagined.
It was as though someone had taken an incandescent string and wrapped it around her heart. Each gentle tug was a summons, a plea to return.
She inhaled deeply, sharply, breathing in the distant scent of something familiar. Cold pine, like that of a forest. Frozen rivers with sapphire depths. And the fresh spray of sea salt clinging to the air.
Her lashes fluttered and she gradually opened her eyes, her bleary gaze slowly coming into focus to take in her surroundings.
Caelian blinked, absorbing the warm wood walls, the glowing hearth where a fire spit and crackled, and though thick curtainswere drawn at the far window, the silver light of dusk peeked through. Somehow, she was back at Kjeld’s cabin, the same one she had discovered him in earlier, but she had no idea how she’d gotten there. The last thing she remembered was trying to save Astrylys, then trying to save the dragon eggs, both of which had ended with someone obviously being forced to save her. Considering her current predicament, she could only assume the worst.
Kjeld had been the one to come to her rescue.
Something he would likely hold over her head for an eternity.
Now she was sprawled in his massive bed and melting beneath a mountain of thick velvet blankets.
Easing herself up, Caelian tossed back the heavy layers of bedding, startled to find herself not only completely naked, but with bandages wrapped around her midsection and thigh. She lightly pressed her fingers to the covered wounds, grateful to find them painless, but worried that perhaps her injuries were more severe than she thought. Brow furrowed, she debated peeling back the bandage on her thigh to inspect it, only to catch sight of her reflection in the large wooden mirror propped against the wall closest to the bed. A faint layer of dust covered the glass, but there was no mistaking the horrified female gazing back at her.
Caelian cringed, the tips of her fingers grazing the skin just beneath her eye. Smudges of kohl made it appear as though she’d taken a fist to the face and lost. Her hair was a tangled mess of knots and kinks, crusted with dried blood. Dirt was caked under her nails. She was an absolute disaster. Wrecked and ruined. Her body ached in places she didn’t even know existed, the soreness radiating through her. And all she wanted was a slice of moonberry pie, a glass of water, and maybe a hot bath.
“You should be resting.”
Caelian froze, her gaze darting around the room.
The rough, masculine voice floated over to her from the darkened corner, where slants of firelight played across a strong jawline and a pair of summer blue eyes. From a wingback chair that looked entirely too small to contain his massive frame, Kjeld watched her. His hands were curled around the arms of the chair, his knuckles bleached white, and even from the short distance between them, she could see the lines of worry creasing his brow.
“I don’t want to rest.” She snatched the sheet around her waist and clutched it to her chest, but his eyes never left her face. “I’d much prefer to bathe.”
Anything where she could sit in a tub of scalding water and soak until her flesh melted from her bones.
Kjeld unfolded himself from the chair, and it groaned in the wake of his absence. “That can be arranged.”
