My hands still, my gaze slowly meeting his.
“Why are you helping me?” he repeats. The labored wheeze from his pierced lung has vanished.
“You’ll die if I don’t. Father has plans for you.”
I heal his broken toes and ankle—hopefully no one notices the mended bones inside his boot.
When I’ve healed all that I can, I set to numbing his pain.
“Stop,” he snaps, his voice cutting through me like a blade.
“You’re in pain.”
“I saidstop.” His eyes are hard. “The pain reminds me I’m still alive. And if I’m alive, I can still kill you.”
I turn away before he sees the tears slide down my cheeks.
I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.
Father will kill him, andI don’t care.
We need him alive. That’s what I tell myself.
But I know that’s not why I came.
It’s the lies we tell ourselves that keep us moving forward.
Chapter Sixty-Two
“Foxmaneuver!”
The warriors crouch in tandem, crawl across the wet grass, before pouncing on an unseen enemy, daggers held aloft. Sorka oversees their training, while Father watches from a chair with crossed arms and pursed lips.
I breathe easier knowing his scrutiny isn’t aimed at me.
Not yet anyway.
Sunlight shines over the camp, casting a bright glow over tired faces. The ground is warm beneath me where I sit beside Vy while we watch the warriors train. So far, she’s healed two sprains. I’ve done nothing but steal glances at Zev. He stands straighter today, and I smother the quiet satisfaction that wells in my chest.
It doesn’t last.
During a pause between maneuvers, one of the warriors, a man named Parku, breaks formation, his stiff strides leading him toward my husband.
I stiffen.
At first, he just stares at Zev, hatred crashing through his pale blue eyes like an unforgiving tide.
“You murdered my father,” he spits. “His name was Tommak. Do you even remember him?”
Zev pretends to think. My heart clenches in my chest.Don’t provoke him, I want to shout, but I keep my lips pressed together.
“I remember him. Tall grunting brute with a round belly? Squealed like a pig when I—”
The air whooshes out of him as Parku hauls back and pummels him in the abdomen.
My breath catches as if he’s hitme.
Zev grits his teeth through the pain. He must have broken another rib. Then, my husband grins at him, the daft idiot. “Your father’s corpse hit harder than you do.”
