Page 12

He shoots me a glare, but he kneels at my feet.

My heart hammers at the sight of his enormous body crouching so close.

He sets the poultice on the ground, carefully unwrapping the cloth he’d bound me with before.

A faint, unpleasant odor drifts up as he presses the mashed roots to my swollen skin.

I grimace, bracing for pain. Instead, there’s a cool, tingling sensation that slightly eases the throbbing.

I suck in a shaky breath, forcing myself to ignore how gentle his claws feel brushing my calf.

“Where did you learn to do this?” I ask, my tone biting. “Secret gargoyle healing school?”

Korrin grunts. “We know some natural remedies. Life magic used to be part of our lineage—” He cuts himself off abruptly, as if he’s said more than he intended.

I glance at him in surprise. “Life magic?”

He gives a tight shrug, rewrapping the bandage to secure the poultice. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not known for that anymore.” There’s a heaviness in his voice that I can’t decipher. Then he ties the knot, sitting back on his haunches. “Better?”

I test the ankle gingerly. The pain is still there, but dulled by the cooling numbness. “Yeah,” I admit grudgingly. “Thanks.”

He stays there for a moment, eyes flicking to my face. The way he watches me—like he’s trying to solve a riddle he never expected—makes my stomach twist. I clench my jaw, refusing to look away first. Eventually, he breaks the eye contact, rising to his feet with a controlled sigh.

“Stay here,” he says, moving toward the tower’s exit. “I’ll bring more firewood so we can warm the water from the stream. You need rest. I don’t want you wandering around.”

I bristle, crossing my arms over my chest. “And if I do wander?”

He pauses, half-turned toward me. His wings flare slightly, a flicker of that predatory presence I first encountered. “Don’t,” he growls. “I’ll always find you.”

His words echo with a quiet certainty that sends a ripple of uneasy awareness through me.

He means it. My mind flashes to the fortress courtyard, that single glimpse of him overhead—a hunter in the storm.

My defiance surges again, but my limbs still ache, and I know I wouldn’t get far on an injured ankle.

So I glare at him, letting him see the hatred I feel for this captivity.

He meets my gaze for a taut moment, then turns and strides out, leaving me alone.

He’s gone for a while, long enough for me to wonder if I can attempt exploring the ruin without him.

My ankle doesn’t throb quite as fiercely now.

Despite his warning, my rebellious streak flares.

I’m painfully aware that this might be my only chance to gather intel or find a potential escape route.

I drag myself to my feet, leaning heavily on a fallen timber for balance.

My entire body trembles under the effort, but I force myself onward, limping deeper into the ruined structure.

Most of it is just rubble: collapsed walls, broken stairs leading nowhere, piles of old stones strewn in corners.

A blanket of moss covers everything, giving the place a damp, earthy smell.

At one point, I discover a small alcove that might’ve once been a storage closet.

It’s caved in now, filled with rocks and spiderwebs.

Useless. I poke around a different corner, hoping for a hidden exit, but only find a jagged hole in the floor that drops into some cellar.

The cellar is mostly flooded with stagnant water.

A rat skitters across a ledge, making me recoil in disgust. No thanks.

I can’t navigate that in my condition anyway.

Frustration boils in my chest. This place is a tomb.

No vantage point looks like an easy way to slip out unnoticed—assuming I could outrun or outfly a gargoyle, which is laughable.

My ankle throbs more with each step. My forced independence costs me an extra wave of pain.

Gasping, I slump against a chunk of fallen masonry, pressing a finger to my forehead.

The collar around my neck weighs on me, physically and emotionally. Traded one prison for another.

Anger pulses through me, but it’s laced with despair.

Why is my life just an endless chain? If it’s not dark elves, it’s gargoyles.

If not whips, then claws. My eyes flicks on a particularly sharp fragment of stone.

A savage thought occurs: Could I pry this collar off with a shard?

But the metal is thick, locked behind my head. I’d likely slice my own throat trying.

I close my eyes, gripping the rubble. Focus.

Breathe. A swirl of images flickers through my mind: the dark elf fortress, the humiliating chains, the lash of whips.

And then Korrin, sweeping down from the sky like an avenging storm, eyes molten with rage as he slew my tormentors.

Despite myself, I can’t deny a flicker of gratitude that he saved me from that guard.

But what does that matter if I’m still imprisoned? Yet he’s not the same as they were…

A footstep behind me sends my heart into my throat. I whirl awkwardly, wincing as my bad ankle nearly gives out. Korrin stands there, arms braced with a small pile of firewood. He frowns. “You’re supposed to be resting by the fire pit,” he says.

I bristle. “I can move where I want.”

He growls under his breath, stalking closer. I brace myself, half expecting him to lash out. Instead, he just sets the wood down, wings twitching in frustration. “You’re stubborn. Don’t make your injuries worse.”

“Maybe I like ignoring your commands,” I snap, hobbling back toward the main area of the tower. He hovers at my side, as if torn between letting me limp and sweeping me into his arms. I clench my jaw, ignoring the temptation to lean on him for support. I refuse to seem weak.

When I reach the center, I sink onto that same chunk of stone, leaning back against a crumbling wall. My breath is ragged from pain, but I force myself to keep my chin lifted. Korrin piles the fresh wood next to the burnt embers.

Without a word, he gathers the leftover ash, removing charred bits and clearing space for a new fire.

Then he arranges the wood, pulling a flint from a pouch at his waist. A few sparks later, the tinder glows, crackling to life.

Warmth begins to radiate, and my body welcomes it, though I refuse to thank him again.

“I’m going to the stream,” he says at last, settling back on his heels. “We need fresh water. I’ll take your ankle for a soak so it doesn’t swell more.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You can’t be serious.”

He meets my gaze, unwavering. “It’ll help you heal faster. You said you wanted freedom? That requires being able to walk, doesn’t it?”

His logic stings, mostly because he’s right. But I’m not about to let him carry me around like some helpless damsel. “I can get there myself,” I mutter, trying to stand. He’s faster than me, gently catching my forearm before I can topple over.

“Hardheaded,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Fine. Hobble to the stream, if you insist. But I’m not leaving you alone. If you fall, I’ll carry you.”

His words are oddly gentle for someone so deadly. Something inside me softens, but I push that feeling away. He’s still my captor. “Lead the way, gargoyle.”

“Name,” he corrects quietly. “Korrin.”

I snort, refusing to use it. A flicker of exasperation crosses his features, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he steps to my side, letting me lean a hand on his arm for balance.

I struggle against the urge, but the pain in my ankle is enough to override my pride.

We move slowly, leaving the ruin through a broken arch, following a narrow path that winds between toppled columns.

The sky overhead is pale with morning light, clouds drifting in thick clusters.

Trees loom around us, their branches reaching like skeletal arms. The forest floor is damp with dew. Korrin glances around warily, as though expecting an ambush. Are there other gargoyles nearby? Dark elves? The thought makes me tense.

After a few minutes of hobbling, we reach a small clearing where a shallow stream trickles over smooth stones.

The water is clearer than I expect, tinted gold by the early sun.

Korrin helps me to a rock at the stream’s edge, the movement surprisingly careful for someone so large and clawed.

My ankle throbs painfully, but I chose to bear the pain without complain.

Then he eases down too, folding his wings behind him.

It’s surreal, sitting beside a gargoyle like we’re mere acquaintances taking a morning stroll.

“Put your foot in,” he instructs, gesturing at the gently swirling water.

I’m reluctant, but the memory of the cooling poultice earlier urges me forward. I slide my foot out of the bandage enough to expose my swollen skin, then gingerly dip it into the stream. A hiss of relief escapes my lips as the cold water numbs the ache.

“You see?” he says softly, not looking at me. “Better.”

I stare at his profile. The ridges of his horns catch the light, and for a moment, I see tension in his jaw. The reflection of the water flickers over his stone-like skin, shimmering across those faint gold veins. He’s not looking at me, but I sense the coiled energy in his body—like he’s on alert.

Silence stretches. My anger simmers, but it’s tangled with something else. Curiosity. “Why are you doing all this?” I blurt finally. “You don’t owe me anything, and your Alpha will probably slaughter you if he finds out you’re keeping me alive.”

His eyes flick my way, burning with quiet frustration.

“Because I refuse to be a mindless weapon anymore. You deserve… a chance.” The words are clipped, like he’s forcing them out.

“It’s not your fault the purna lineage flows in your veins, if it even does.

” He exhales heavily. “I can’t kill you for what you might be. ”