Whipping toward the gut-wrenching sound, I froze. Like a broken flute, the noise pierced my ears as Nicu fell to his knees. He hunched on the ground, blood smearing his clothes and face. The soft inclines of his profile trenched, an unrecognizable anguish stretching his features taut.
Terror gripped my soul. He had been stabbed. He’d been mortally wounded.
But then he screamed again, putting too much strength into the sound.
Fear dissolved into confusion. Then into realization.
A felled knight lay sprawled with a rondel dagger stuck in his chest. Adjacent to that, a harrowing scene unfolded.
My liege hunkered over a dark, motionless form. The most excruciating noises I’d ever heard cleaved from his lungs, a haunting echo that reached the canopy. With his body shaking, Nicu rocked the figure against his chest.
“No!” he shrieked. “Please, no!”
Under a blade of moonlight, the person’s unconscious face came into stark view. Lyrik’s slack features had lost its olive luster, a deadly pallor washing over the man’s stubbled jaw.
Nicu scrambled, his palm flattening over a deep gash in the rogue’s stomach that oozed pints of blood.
Hearing the cacophony, Poet spun his staff to a halt. Like a man possessed, his blazing eyes found Nicu. At the same time, Briar stalled, her wild eyes locating their son.
In unison, they broke into a run. While the pair shot toward the scene, branches twined around the remaining fighters, the crush of bone resonating.
Then suddenly, everything stooped.
Aspen stalled at my side, a gasp pushing from her lips. Crouching toward Nicu, she wrapped her arms around him from behind. Stabbing my swords into the ground, I knelt and reached for one of her hands, securing Aspen to me as if she might vanish.
Safe. Alive.
I could not rightly say the same for the alchemist who lay nestled against my liege. Nicu’s wails carved through the trees. I knew that sound well, for I had made it once, cursed by the same bereavement.
Poet and Briar faltered, relief washing over their expressions, quickly trailed by shock as they beheld their son cradling a stranger drenched in crimson.
Flare raced to the scene. Her golden eyes flashed, and she whirled toward a male outline looming twenty yards away.
“Jeryn!”she mouthed.
An easy name to read from her silent lips. Though unlike the rest of us, the King of Winter possessed the ability to hear his woman as if she spoke audibly.
Chains rattled from a set of boots. For a man who exuded patience, Jeryn’s towering frame stalked from the mist, ready to decimate anyone who dared to block his path. His long, dark blue mane blended with the shadows, and red soaked his fur coat. Yet the instant he spotted Flare in one piece, the man’s composure broke.
Pupils firing, he yanked the woman into a savage kiss. Uttering her own drastic noise, Flare returned the embrace. Her mouth ripped open beneath his, their lips slanting at a harsh angle, tongues swatting madly from the looks of it.
I averted my gaze until Flare broke the kiss, then snared Jeryn’s hand and dragged him across the understory. Jabbing her index finger, she pointed frantically toward the scene.
Alertness overtook Jeryn’s features. His eyebrows snapped together, and he strode forward with surgical purpose, lowering himself on one knee beside Nicu.
Gently nudging my liege aside, the king slit his eyes at the wound and pressed his fingers against Lyrik’s pulse. A critical sequence of events ensued. With glacial efficiency, Jeryn instructed, “Move back.”
Our clan retreated a few steps as the king carefully hoisted Lyrik’s dead weight into his arms. “Tell me there’s a fucking infirmary—”
“Second level.” Aspen pointed to the nearest stairway. “Northeast corner, the chamber closest to the vista point. It’s not strictly made for healing, but it’s the best option.”
Briar nodded. “I remember that post. It was vacant back when Eliot, Cadence, and I—”
“It’s an alchemy chamber now,” I explained. “Though, some of the mixtures are toxic.”
Jeryn dismissed that cautionary detail and carried the rogue’s weight toward the stairs. Only Winter could react this way with confidence. Whatever items he discovered there, the man would know how to handle them.
Nicu shot forward, but Briar cupped her son’s shoulder, dissuading him. In unison, Flare shook her head in conciliatory warning, then brushed my liege’s cheek before falling into step with her mate.
