Her taut, frantic voice comes to me.
‘Wait!’
I’mdonewaiting, Orlaith.
‘No.’
The faintest flicker ignites, and I retract my claws, catching it like a firefly. I crouch forward and blow more warmth onto the frail, throbbing ember, giving it everything I have.
Breathe,I growl, nuzzling it. I brush my lips against it and order it to fuckinglive.
Another luminous pulse …
Another.
Relief douses me from head to toe, but I shut that feeling down.
She needs me.
Now.
Still cradling that seed—mysalvation—I lift my leg and slide my thigh free of the wooden saber, releasing a spurt of inky blood that reeks of impending death. A howl gurgles up my throat, almost splitting me down the middle.
I cough, sputter, heave, vision smearing, the wooden mound beneath me creaking as I look at the remaining stick jutting from my gut.
Fuck me.
Face twisting, I arch up, the stick sliding free of my innards, each knobbled bend grating against my bones.
I snarl through gritted teeth, heaving choked breaths, more rotten, foul-smelling blood piping from the gaping wound, dribbling into the water in an inky swirl.
Chin pressed to my chest, I look down at the talon again …
I thought if she lashed her damage at me hard enough, dealt me the pain I deserve, it would make me feel better about … everything. Instead, that prickly ache won’t ease, and the more I look at the fucking talon protruding from my chest, the worse this feeling gets.
Growling, I reach for the hilt—
The rickety mass beneath me shifts, and I still, poised. I feel the next creak in my fucking marrow.
Everything gives way with a turbulentsplashthat swallows me whole.
I’m churned up, tossed about, pinned beneath the might of rolling tree trunks. More liquid pours into me, and my barely beating heart slows, lungs convulsing as my body jerks and spasms.
I don’t hate you at all …
The whispered echo of her words are the breath of air I can’t pull. They’re sun on my face, and the smell of spring crushed against me. They’re a warm, comforting hand escorting me into the eternal shadow of a bitterly cold oblivion I’ve grown too familiar with.
Something hard collides with my head, and the pain slips away.
Darkness consumes me.
Fat drops of icy rain splat upon my cheek, my nose, my lips, and I emerge from a sludgy sleep I want to fall back into. Everything rocks beneath me with a violent sway that tips my hollow guts, the deep, painful throb boring through the side of my neck so raw, tender, and exposed. A hurt that feels filthy and wrong.
So wrong.
A hurt I want to slap my hand over and hide.
Another raindrop splatters against my forehead, obliterating some of the thorny vines bound around my mind, muddying my thoughts. I tune into the banging, sloshing beat as my world glides forward in slow, steady increments, the smell of a summer storm heavy on the air.
