A sound escaped him.
Strangled.
Like someone had speared him clean through.
He hardly heard it. Hardly registered it. Clutched her tighter, rocking once. Twice. As if gentleness could reverse unraveling. As if love alone could rewrite what the dark had already claimed. He rocked them both—a prayer in motion—though in more than one thousand years, not a single one of his prayers had ever been answered.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered into her hair. “Tell me what to do. Please.Please.”
The tent flaps burst open.
Thessia skidded in first, Zarrek right behind her.
They stopped cold at the sight.
Zarrek swore under his breath.
Thessia’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“She was like this,” Resh said hoarsely. “She was like this when I came in. I didn’t—she didn’t—”
“Is she breathing?”
He nodded, the floor rocking beneath him.
“Is she cold?” Thessia snapped. “Resh, is she cold?”
He blinked. Nodded. “Yes.”
Thessia surged forward. “Then why in the Riven's name are youstillsitting there? If this is depletion, she needs a bath—now!You’re losing time!”
Zarrek moved to the back of the tent, barking orders through the canvas. “Fetch water! Bring the barrels, now!”
Still clutching Auryn, Resh rose. He was trembling. Whether from rage or panic or something deeper, he couldn’t understand.
“She’s going to be all right,” Thessia said, half to him, half to herself. “She has to be. Move, Resh.Move!”
Once the men brought supplies, Zarrek moved fast, pushing aside crates, snapping the wooden lid off a barrel they stored water in. He lifted it alone and tipped it into a large wooden tub he set up moments prior. Resh knelt beside it, cradling Auryn against him with one arm, fingers outstretched, a heating spell blooming from his palms. The water steamed instantly.
“Hot—but not boiling,” Zarrek warned.
“I know.”
Auryn let out a faint, broken wheeze. Her head lolled on his shoulder. Resh stood. Shoved off his boots. With one hand, he stripped his bracers, armor, and tunic in clean, practiced motions. Left in simple black trousers, he paused.
“Here,” Zarrek said, stepping toward him, arms ready. “I’ll hold her while you get in.”
For a beat, Resh hesitated. He didn’t want to let go. But then he nodded once and handed her over. Zarrek held her carefully, supporting her head with surprising tenderness for a warrior of his size and brutality.
Resh stepped into the tub. The water rippled around him, hissing as it met his skin. The air in the tent thickened with steam. He lowered himself to one side of the bath and held out his arms. Zarrek handed Auryn back.
As soon as her legs touched the water, her body spasmed, a soft sound catching in her throat.
“It’s all right, starlight,” Resh whispered. “I have you.”
He eased her into the water, cradling her against his bare chest, one arm wrapped around her back, the other beneath her knees. Her nightshift clung to her small frame, wet and fragile as breath. She shuddered, and another sharp, shallow wheeze broke from her lips.
Resh pressed his mouth to her temple. “Stay with me. Just breathe. That’s all you must do now. Breathe for me.”
