Now that Kyor is safe and we’re alone again, the fatigue hits me, heavier than ever before. I had barely recovered from the incident withthe Sannthrall myself, to the point that I don’t know how I even managed to fight the Rottings at all. As I consider the last twenty-four hours, my eyes fall on my mother’s ring.
Is it the reason I am still able to stand, or is it the reason Kyor has ended up like this in the first place?
I doubt I’ll ever know the answer, but either way, the battles and riding all through the night and day have me bone tired in a way I haven’t been since the Retterheld.
The Retterheld.
It feels like it’s already in my distant past. Like the stripping and our exile. Even though it was less than a moon ago, being a Rettling is another chapter in my life that no longer fits with who and where I am now.
The Gods and I both know, many things can change in a moon.
Kyor is stretched out in the middle of the hard bed, with Elska at his feet. As I move to join him, she shifts position to face the door, and a low growl rumbles from her throat as she pointedly bares her teeth and flexes her claws towards the entrance. Without words, she promises that nothing is getting past her tonight.
When it comes to things changing, it’s hard to deny the switch in my relationship with the wolf. Not so long ago, I was terrified of her, convinced she would rip me limb from limb. Now I’m obscenely grateful for her presence protecting us, here in the heart of a viper’s den.
With Elska settled once again, I climb onto the meagre pallet bed and fill the small space that Kyor’s body doesn’t take up. It’s not a lot of room, and I’ve no choice but to cuddle up to him. Not least because it helps ward off the biting cold.
Any heat from the stray log is long gone, but as I carefully lay my head against Kyor’s uninjured shoulder, I know the cold is not the only reason I am snuggled close.
Pressed against him as I am, I can feel the reassuring thud of his heart. It’s still there.
He’s still here.
Chapter 35
Alow, pain-filled groan awakens me, dragging me from a slumber I am not yet ready to leave. All the same, I pry sleep-laden eyes open. My heart leaps in relief and joy to see that Kyor is awake, although he is grimacing in pain.
‘You’re awake.’ The words leave me as a gasp.
‘The wound. The green …’ He chokes out the words.
‘No sign of the mottled green,’ I soothe him. ‘None at all.’
The faintest attempt at a smile curls his lips, and I try to respond. I should be beaming, but I’m still worried.
‘The healer did his best. He saved your life, but he couldn’t heal all the internal injuries completely. You’ll need weeks of rest before you’re fully recovered.’Ifyou fully recover, I think but don’t say that part aloud. I don’t need to. He’s a commander in the army. He knows how injuries work. Especially ones when you can’t get to a healer straight away. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Like I got run through with a spear,’ he says ruefully.
‘You’re lucky to be alive.’
He shrugs his uninjured shoulder. ‘I’ve survived worse.’
There’s the arrogance I know and loathe.
It’s only when his fingers brush againstmy waist that I remember I’m still cuddled into him. His uninjured arm is curled around me, just like it used to. Memories rush in, of us in other beds, awakening like this, flesh pressed to flesh, need hot and urgent singing through us both. I swallow hard and push it all down.
Those were other times.
Things are different now. A lump builds in my throat and I sit up. For a second his fingers remain on me, but then his hand drops away, just like it did in front of his father.
There. That’s the reminder I need.
He didn’t choose me, and no matter how much my heart breaks, nothing has changed between us.
I’m glad he’s alive –of courseI am – but I can’t allow the near-death experience to let anything change between us. Because it hasn’t. We still don’t have a future together.
The room is dark. We’ve slept the remainder of the day away and made some headway into the night, too, yet I’m still exhausted, and judging from the way Elska is sprawled out on the floor, I’m not the only one. Carefully, so as not to stumble into the slumbering wolf, I manoeuvre myself off the bed, lowering my feet almost silently onto the ground.
