Terror strangles me in its iron grip. I press dirty hands to cold, green cheeks. “Maddox? Can you hear me?”
What the hell is he doing down here? He’d been so far away. Did the whole bridge break? Is the guard somewhere down here too?
“Maddox?”
His groan might be the sweetest sound to ever grace my ears.
Thank heavens. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he were dead.
Blinking through my tears, I skim my fingers along his chest and the ridges of his abdomen, searching for wounds hidden in the shadows. “Can you move?”
A garbled curse falls from his lips as he sucks in a sharp breath.
“What is it? Are you in pain?” What am I saying? Of course the man is in pain. Not only did he fall from the bridge, but also I landed on top of him. “Tell me where it hurts.” I’m not sure how to make it better, but I’ll do my best to try.
“Nia . . . Stop.”
No surname accompanies his broken plea. It’s the first time he’s forgotten to call me anything but Nia Quill. He probably doesn’t even realize. A slip of the tongue.
Why does it make my whole heart swell?
There are far more important matters to attend to than the name he chose to call me.
I lift both hands in the air as he groans again and carefully eases himself to sitting. He cups the back of his head with his large hand, then brings it away to blink at his palm. I don’t need daylight to know he’s bleeding.
“Your head?—”
“Is still attached.” He swipes his palm down the leg of his trousers.
He’s hurt. He’s hurt. He’s hurt. “Let me see.”
“There is no need to concern yourself. I am fine.”
Fine? We are far from fine.
He’s broken and bleeding at the bottom of The Divide. I press my hands to either side of my head to keep myself from shattering. “What happened? How are we here?” How are we alive?
“The bridge broke.”
“I remember that.” The crack, the give, the emptiness beneath my slippers. “But how did you fall?”
Wincing, he touches his fingertips to his side. “I did not fall.”
“Says the man sitting at the bottom of The bloody Divide.” Now is not the time for jokes. Our situation is far too dire.
He lifts his gaze to mine and says, “I jumped after you.”
That isn’t . . . He couldn’t have . . . “You.Jumped?”
A nod.
“Youjumped?” He willingly leapt into The Divide? Heavens above. “Are youinsane? How could you be so reckless? You could’ve been killed!”
His head tilts the same way his goat’s did that day in the gardens. “Seelie have a strange way of expressing gratitude.”
He’s right. I shouldn’t be screaming at him; I should be thanking him. But heavens above, nothing this man does makes any bloody sense.
“Thank you, Maddox.” If he hadn’t risked his life, I wouldn’t have survived. There was no guarantee we would survivewithhis help. He could’ve died too. “Although, I’m at a loss as to why you would do such a thing.”
