Page 72 of Blackheart

They screamed. Begging for help. Begging for mercy, but I couldn’t be bothered to give a wet fuck. One by one, their bodies sank, the bloody black river taking them prisoner. Dozens of dead fish and plants rose to the surface.

I was in too much shock from the intensity of the icy waters to be nauseous. Riven was running along the shoreline, looking for a safe way across.

Within minutes, the Drakers were nothing more than bodies floating down the river.

As I made it to the other side of the bank, I collapsed, clutching my broken arm.

The sun was setting, and we had nowhere to stay for the night. Even if there was a village close by, I wouldn’t make it another step.

I lay on the ground, eyes closed and shivering. My every garment wet and sticking to me.

There was no escaping the cold. It consumed me.

At a familiar whine from Kostini, I opened my eyes. The black stallion nudged my head, as if apologizing for my arm. Of course, Kostini was perfectly fine while I was close to death.

Riven hurried to my side, dropping his pack and flinging his bow to the ground. “You’re going to freeze to death,” he said quietly.

“Of course I am,” I bitterly laughed. I had made it out of the Waywards, just to end up freezing anyway.

He didn’t laugh back or comment at all. He was gathering wood and tossing it in a pile. It didn’t take long for him to start the fire.

I’m not sure what I expected him to do, but I wasn’t prepared for him to kneel at my feet and begin removing my boots. I didn’t complain or move, just lay on my side, holding my arm while my body trembled. The river had washed away my Nature. At least I didn’t have that mess to worry about.

“Your clothes have to come off,” he said. “They’re soaked.”

“I can’t get up to take them off. They’ll dry eventually,” I mumbled sleepily.

Metal rang at his side as he slid out a dagger. “You won’t be alive to see them dry if we wait that long.”

I closed my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. Perhaps forever.

Wind tickled my bare leg as Riven carefully sliced my pants from bottom to top.

“They werenew,” I complained quietly, utterly drained.

“I know,” he said sympathetically, cutting the other side.

My eyes fluttered as he removed the wet fragments. He was focused and precise, but as he unclipped the orb from my hip, it zapped him.

He pulled his hand away, glaring at it. My orb had never done such a thing.

Riven tossed it to the side and continued working.

With a gentle caress of the blade at my hip, my underwear broke away. My shirt was next, and he maneuvered me with care onto my side before removing the rest.

A chill ran between my thighs as his warm hand slid across my back, pulling the last piece of wet clothing away.

He wasted no time after, taking my blanket out of the pack and laying it out by the fire.

“You can’t lie on snow all night,” he explained quietly, mostly to himself. Just as quick as he’d set out the blanket, he moved me onto it.

I stared at the fire. Numb. Teeth Chattering.

He shuffled through a bag, tossing things to the ground. Curiosity got the best of me, and as I turned my head, Riven was bare-chested, ripping his own dry shirt into pieces.

“What are you doing?” I asked, glancing at the marks along his tan chest.

“I need to wrap your leg. Don’t move.”