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Heavier tears pooled, and her face crinkled into one of pain and distress. Her hands tentatively came up to hang in the air, wanting to hug him, but unsure if it was okay.

Seeming to sense this, he captured her in his arms. One crossed over her back while the other held her head to him so her face was pressed against his bare shoulder. He held her tight as she dug her fingertips into his back and cried.

“I am so sorry,” she sobbed. Her lungs heaved as she tried to breathe through the emotions washing over her. “When Bala came to the entrance of the lair, I had been so excited to see him. I did not know he was him.” Her voice broke into a higher pitch when she said, “I did not know he was watching me. I did not mean to let him in.”

The words began to fall from her. He held her while she wept and tried to process all the guilt and shame that was radiating inside her. Amalia recounted to him what she’d done, what she’d learned, what she’d gone through to make sure she got to the altar without suspicion.

She’d worried that if she didn’t pretend to play a part in Strolguil’s plans and showed she was against what he was doing, then he wouldn’t have allowed her freedom. She made him lower his guard, allowed him to think her memories, that still didn’t really feel like a part of her, had changed her.

She’d created a mask of indifference to hide her disgust.

Rurik started patting her hair, silently holding her while she released everything. She knew she was digging her nails into him now, but she couldn’t stop the tension in her body or hide how much regret she felt as she spoke her next words.

“I am so sorry.” She shook her head as she began to tremble all over. “I knew you did not want me to ride you, but I did not know what else to do. I knew I could not do it by myself. I knew I did not have enough magic to free you, and I did not want to leave you trapped.”

Amalia made the choice to ride him, but she’d seen no other option. She wasn’t knowledgeable enough with her magic to do it on her own, and she knew she would never have won against Strolguil. She’d made the choice and then had to bear the heavy weight of guilt from doing so.

“It is fine, Amalia.” And hearing him say those words, hearing him understand why she had done it, that he’d forgiven her, made her hold him tighter. “If it helps you to know, it felt good.” His voice sounded like a combination of concern for her and humour at his own words.

Amalia laughed. She laughed until her sadness and guilt took her over again and then she just cried against him.

She had nothing more to tell him.

But she felt better.He does not hate me.

Relief sailed through her, and she started to settle. She didn’t have a lot of energy to begin with and began to droop, falling limp against him.

“Come, you are not well. Let me help you to the other side of the waterfall and then I will carry you.”

He began to lift to his feet while taking her with him.

Turning her so that her back was against his chest, he helped to keep her upright while he made sure she didn’t get wet when they walked the thin path between the rock wall and the waterfall.

Once on the other side, he tilted his body one way to make her body dip. One arm held her up behind her back while the other slipped behind her knees to lift her until she was cradled in the cushion of his strong arms.

Unable to lift her hands to hold on, she tried her hardest in keeping her eyes open to stop herself from passing out.

Her focus was in front of her. She was looking at her legs, at her skin still stained with her own blood. Tracks of it twirled down and between her legs.

Realising she didn’t like the sight of them, she turned her gaze towards his face. She wanted to look over something more pleasant as he walked her through the tunnels.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked when he carefully placed her on her bed.

“Strolguil is no more, he will not be able to come for you,” he answered once he covered her with the furs. He looked over her with his gentle face beginning to frown. “That is not why you asked me to stay.”

She shook her head. She just didn’t want to fall asleep alone.

He turned to sit on the edge of the bed beside her and held her hand comfortingly. Amalia stared at him with languid eyelids. Now that she knew he didn’t plan to harm her, she felt safe again, and knowing Strolguil was dead calmed her.

She had no reason to fear being alive anymore.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Rurik stayed with Amalia until she fell asleep. Which was about all of five seconds before he could tell her breathing softened. He sat with her for a little while longer, silently watching over her like a protector.

Rurik had spoken with her father for some time while he made a strong, dark magic infused ointment to heal her shattered rib bones. He had been disgusted that he’d asked for some of his blood but had willingly given it so that it could help Amalia.

He applied it himself, observing as the strange, nose-tingling slime sunk beneath her skin before fading.