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We race to the sparring ring out in the forest, and sure enough, she’s crouched over and assessing a downed man’s leg.

I join her on the ground. “What happened?”

The man’s sandy blonde head is leaned back, his thick brown eyebrows scrunched, and eyes squeezed shut in pain. He was one of the three Mistwood transplants, making him either Gavin or Nolan.

“Leg injury. Do you think you can help carry him back to the healer’s quadrant?” Marge answers.

I whip my gaze from the man’s leg to Marge, doubt creeping in about being able to lift him on my own.

Cole takes a step closer. “I can help—”

“Darian!” Marge barks. “Get over here and help us get Nolan to the healer’s quadrant.”

Darian’s eyes meet mine, and he pushes off the tree he was leaning against, casually strolling over to us.

“I don’t need his help,” I scoff, desperate to have anyone but him help. I grab Nolan’s hand, helping him sit up and looping his arm around my neck. Circling my arms around his torso, I push up through my legs, my knees wobbling and threatening to buckle from lifting his weight. But I only get him a few inches off the ground before setting him back down to catch my breath.

Cole shifts in to help but is brushed aside by Darian.

Instead, Cole strides to the center of the sparring circle, addressing the rest of the squad who watches us with wide eyes, “Let’s resume sparring.”

A hint of mischief darkens Darian’s eyes as he slides in next to me. He flicks his fingers for me to move down and monitor Nolan’s leg while he does the heavy lifting.

I stare him up and down. “Pfft.”

Darian shoves his arm into me, knocking me out of his way, his voice sultry soft. “Gods, you aresohot—”

The admission makes my mouth part in shock.

“—headed.” He sighs, clearly using the pause to his advantage, and I fall for it.

“Are you always an ass?” I bite.

Nolan chuckles, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two of us.

Darian mutters, “No, sometimes I sleep.”

Marge snaps her fingers impatiently at the two of us.

Glad I’m not the only one irritated by his antics.

Darian hauls Nolan up to stand, and I slide to Nolan’s other side, wrapping my arm around his lower back to brace him. Darian and I help Nolan back to the healer’s quadrant. Admittedly, I’m relieved for Darian’s help as I couldn’t have lifted or carried Nolan on my own.

“Next…time,” Nolan pants. “I’ll break your arm…Darian.”

Darian chuckles. “It’s cute you think I’m afraid of you. I’ll get your other leg before you can even touch me.”

Nolan snarls. “You spoiled ass—”

“Stop it, the both of you!” Marge warns and pulls the door open for the three of us.

We shuffle into the healer’s quadrant awkwardly. As soon as Darian helps lower Nolan onto a bed, he heads for the door. Marge stretches her staff out, blocking Darian’s path.

Intensity crackles between the two of them as they stare each other down in silence, like two wolves circling each other, waiting for the other to strike first.

If I didn’t know them, I would have been scared for Marge. But she challenges his glare with a lifted chin, her shoulders back, and posture confident despite her need for a staff to walk.

Maybe I should be scared forhim.