“I don’t care,” Perri cried, stronger now, struggling weakly in Ronan’s arms. “He needs to come with us! He needs help?—”
“No,” I cut in, not meeting her eyes.
Whatever she was looking for—gratitude, attachment, anything—I couldn’t give it. I’d had my chance to take care of her, and I’d failed. I’d led her right into a blizzard.
“I don’t need you,” I said.
The words tasted like ash, and she flinched in Ronan’s arms like I’d struck her. Her little mouth popped open, indignation etched in every tiny feature, brows furrowed with hurt.
Good. It was better that way.
Canavar shifted on his feet. “Enough of this.”
He reached for me. I twisted again, harder this time, trying to break free, but I was too cold and my limbs too sluggish to move.
Pain exploded at the back of my skull as the world snapped sideways. The storm dimmed and Perri’s figure disappeared into black, her mouth open in a silent scream as everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-One
RONAN
In a twist of irony, the storm quieted the moment the fighting stopped.
Veskor lay where he’d fallen, half-buried already as the snow around him was stained dark blue with his blood.
“NO! NO!” Perri shrieked.
I struggled to contain Perri and Canavar stepped forward, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and turning to me.
“Leave him or take him. At least he won’t fight either way,” Canavar said, disappearing into the tunnel with Perri punching her fists at his broad back.
Nasi gave me a look.
I lingered at the entrance, turning at the last moment to look at him lying unconscious in the snow.
He was dangerous. He was unknown. I knew what Benedict would do, and what Kieran would suggest, even if he wouldn’t be happy about it.
I stood over Veskor, the cold cutting through my lungs, and for a moment, I did nothing.
Nasi paused, waiting for me.
“Ronan,” he called. “We’re leaving.”
I didn’t answer. My gaze stayed on Veskor.
Snow gathered along his shoulders, settling into the dark fabric of the rough rags around his hips, and the poor excuse for a cloak around his shoulders. He had made mistakes, surely. But all of us had, as well. We’d done what we needed to survive.
He was trying to survive, too.
I clenched my jaw.
And for a moment—just a moment—I saw it too, clearly: another body in the snow.
Another choice.
What would Wren do?
My chest tightened, something sharp and unwelcome digging in beneath my ribs. That’s when I noticed it—something stuck in his scales between his shoulder and his crude leather belt. Reaching forward, I plucked it out, holding a pale-blue flower so crumpled there wasn’t much left to it except a few crushed petals. My fingers tingled where it touched, giving off a dull silver shimmer. My bloodmagick runes spiked and glowed gold for a brief moment before settling.
