—the dagger opens a brutal gash down the length of her arm.
Panic flares within me, sharp and serrated.
Blood gushes from the wound, soaking her tunic, dripping down into the damp earth. I rush over to her, knocking the dagger away.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hiss, examining her wrist. The blood flows faster. “You need to heal yourself.” I uncuff her quickly, the ironbracelets hitting the ground with a mutedthudthat I feel in my bones.
Her eyes flutter closed.
“Skies, Mayah—focus.” I shake her shoulders. “You’re bleeding too fast. Heal yourself.Now.”
She groans lightly. Bright blood drips onto the ground in a steady stream, her eyes staying closed for longer and longer with each blink.
“Mayah.” I shake her again, harder. Skies, she’s going to bleed out in my arms. “Heal yourself.Please.”
She closes her eyes, brows pinched together.
A soft, whimpering moan escapes her.
“What? There’s nothing in your bloodstream. The iron is gone. You should—” She slumps against me, and my voice splinters.
Shit. Shit. Shit. She hasn’t eaten anything. I didn’tlet hereat anything. And the trauma of what Sulon did, maybe that’s—
“Fuck, Mayah. Just—Lightning strike me, just hold on.”
With steely resolve, I bracket her neck between my palms and channel my power into her. More than I did when she’d been struck with the arrow.
I cradle her face. “Try now,” I urge. “Quickly.”
She closes her eyes. When her hand glows with soft, white light, I nearly weep with relief. She sweeps it over the deep gash, and her skin slowly mends, the edges of the wound beginning to close.
A relieved sigh escapes me as I sit back on my heels, watching as the gash knits back together.
Until it doesn’t.
The light from her hand sputters, flickering softly at first.
Then it extinguishes completely.
She gasps—fresh blood oozes steadily from her half-healed wound. Slowly, our eyes meet. She’s pale, a faint sheen of sweat slicking her skin.
Wordlessly, I return my hands to her neck, channeling yet more of my power into her. I feel the drain, the heavy fatigue weighing down on my limbs. I’d give her all of it. Give her anything,doanything to save her.
Her hands glow again. This time, the light doesn’t waver. She finishes healing the gash running down the inside of her forearm, then her bloodied ankles and split lip.
I can only watch in silence as self-loathing and guilt batter my conscience harder and harder with each sealed wound.
When her body is whole, she meets my gaze with icy blue eyes.
I open my mouth, an apology poised on my tongue.
But I never get to utter it because—
—the waterwielder attacks.
Chapter Forty-Six
HowmanytimeswillI let her fool me?
