Page 24

Khaos

I gaze around at the aftermath of the battle. There’s nothing left to see—they’ve all vanished as they always do when we kill them. Thanouq’s griffin is nowhere in sight.

Then I go still.

I glance back to where we left the others.

I can’t see her, and panic rips through me. I race across the grass and am almost there before I spot her lying on the ground.

No!

I skid to a halt beside the small group hovering around her. They part, and I step closer, sniffing the air. Fresh blood. A growl rumbles in my throat. I lean closer, my legs trembling, but I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Gods, she’s alive.

I almost collapse as relief floods through me. I gently nudge her, and she groans. For a second, I close my eyes, then I blow out my breath and shift.

I fall to my knees beside her, studying the damage. Jagged claw marks have ripped the skin open from her armpit almost to her hip, and my heart stutters. The claws contain a poison that can be fatal.

But I won’t let that happen.

I reach out a hand and run it down the wicked wound, and she moves a little, her lashes fluttering.

“Is she all right?” Zayne asks.

“No,” I growl. “But she will be.”

She moves again, pushing herself up with her elbows; her eyes flash open, and a scream is torn from her throat. She collapses back. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Stay where you are,” I murmur. “It’s going to be all right. I’ve got you.”

I hope to the gods that I’m telling the truth.

I will not let her die.

She lies there, her breathing rapid, her lips clamped tight together. I reach out a hand, needing to touch her, and gently stroke the hair from her face.

“Breathe slowly,” I say, wishing I could take her pain for myself. For a second, I don’t think she can hear me. Then her breathing slows. She opens her eyes and swallows, then licks her lips. “Am I alive?” she asks, her voice raspy with pain.

“Yes.”

“Am I going to die?”

“No. I won’t allow it.”

A brief smile flickers across her face. “I’m not sure it’s up to you. Are they gone?” she asks. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, and yes. Well, everyone except for you. What the fuck happened to run !” I growl the last question, then force myself to calm the fuck down. But why can’t she do what she’s told?

She shrugs, then winces with pain. And I can do nothing about that. And it’s killing me.

Her gaze locks with mine, and she gives another small smile. “Did you think I was dead?” she asks.

I close my eyes for a moment. “Yes,” I say.

Something flashes in her eyes, and my hand reaches out slowly. I can’t help myself; I need to touch her. I stroke her cheek, and a flash of sensation courses through me. Her eyes widen, and some of the pain fades from her expression.

“You did good out there,” she says. “I think I like your wolf.”

“He likes you,” I admit.

“You’re being nice.” She frowns. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. “I’m not the one covered in blood.”

She glances down at her body and flinches. “I am, aren’t I? I suppose I should get up.”

“No. Stay where you are. We’ll camp here for the night.”

I can see the relief in her face. And I know she would have tried to keep going despite the pain. I suspect she doesn’t know how to give up. I can’t resist reaching out and stroking the soft skin of her cheek again.

I’m going to have to clean that wound, and it’s going to hurt like fuck. For both of us.

I force myself to my feet. “I’ll be right back to take a look at that wound.” I give her a last lingering look. I don’t want to let her out of my sight. “Don’t go anywhere,” I add.

“Hah.”

I have to slow my breathing as I walk away. Panic twists my insides. I stop for a moment and stand there, head bowed, eyes closed as I fight for control. Someone touches my arm, and I swing around with a growl. Thanouq takes a step back and holds up his hands in mock surrender. He must see the wolf in my eyes, but he shows no fear.

“You don’t look too good,” he says. “You want me to take care of Amber?”

I growl again, and he raises an eyebrow. “I take it that’s a no. In which case, get your fucking act together and go look after her.”

He’s right, even if I don’t like to hear it from him. I think Fury realizes it as well, as he whimpers but sinks down into my subconscious. “I’m good.”

“That’s debatable. Here.” He hands me a bottle. “It’s alcohol. Might help. And I’ve done a search of the area. It’s clear.”

I nod and take the bottle. We have no drugs to lessen the pain, and I’m not about to refuse anything that might help her.

“Therion says she did it to save the boy. It wasn’t going for her but for him. She flung herself between them.”

Shit. I should have broken his neck when I had the chance.

I get the rest of the supplies I need from my saddlebags and hurry back. Zayne is hunkered down beside her, but he straightens as I approach, gives me a look of hatred, and heads off.

Her eyes are open, and she watches me approach. I can see fear in her eyes. I don’t like it. I want to reassure her, but how can I? I place the supplies on the ground beside her, and she eyes them, her gaze settling on the needle. “You are so not sticking that thing in me,” she mutters.

I don’t answer. I hope it won’t be needed, but I’ll do whatever is necessary, however much I don’t like it.

I crouch down beside her, slide a hand around her shoulder, and help her up. There’s a boulder nearby, and I perch her on it. A small squeak escapes her, and she closes her eyes for a second. I hold myself still. With my free hand, I reach for the bottle Thanouq gave me. I take out the cork with my teeth and hold the bottle toward her mouth.

“What is it?” she asks suspiciously.

“A present from Thanouq. Some variety of alcohol.” I raise it to my nose and sniff. “Brandy is the closest thing, I guess.”

I put the bottle back to her mouth and tip it up.

She gulps automatically and the liquid pours down her throat. She gags and splutters and pushes me away. Sweat breaks out on her forehead “Jesus,” she says, “are you trying to drown me?”

I make to put the bottle down, but she holds out her hand instead. “I can drink on my own, thank you.” I hand it to her, a little doubtful, but if it helps… She takes another gulp while I watch with one eyebrow raised. Then another, to no doubt to prove what a badass she is. She raises the bottle again, but this time I take it, replace the cork, and put it on the ground.

“ Spoilsport ,” she mutters. “Where is everyone?”

I don’t know, and to be honest, right now I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is Amber. So I just shrug.

“Are those things all gone?” she asks.

“I think so. Thanouq flew over the area, and there’s nothing as far as he can see.”

“How cool is that?” she says, probably to wind me up—I’ve noticed she likes doing that. When I don’t react, she adds, “Flying.”

I scowl just to cheer her up. “Let’s take a look at you.”

I reach across to tug gently at her T-shirt, but she slaps my hand away. “Hey, stop that.”

Her eyes are a little glazed, hopefully because of the brandy and not blood loss or poison.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I say. “I can hardly clean the wound if I can’t see it.”

She frowns but then nods. She doesn’t say anything as I pull it over her head. Beneath it, she wears a plain black bra. Or what’s left of one. It’s in pieces, and she stares at it in dismay. “That’s my only bra.” Tears shine in her eyes, but she grabs her t-shirt from me and holds it to her breasts as she peels away what’s left of her undergarment, then drops it to the ground with a sniff.

I try to ignore the fact that she’s almost naked but fail miserably. My dick hardens, but I take a deep breath, willing it to subside. She doesn’t need to know how she affects me. I keep all expressions from my face to avoid making her uncomfortable.

“Lift your arm,” I say.

She does so and without flashing her breasts at me. Sad—I could use a little distraction right now. My anger is rising again as I take in the ragged wound. I soak a cloth in the water and gently dab her side. She looks straight ahead. “Are you okay? I can stop for a moment.”

“No. It doesn’t hurt so much now. Who would have thought brandy was so clever?” Then she swallows. “Is it bad?”

“It’s not as deep as it looks,” I reply. “You don’t need stitches.”

“Hallelujah,” she says. “Not that I was going to let you stick that needle in me.”

I raise a brow. “You don’t trust me?”

“Hell, no.” She turns and looks me in the eye. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

I don’t even have to think about it. I might crave her, I might have a deep burning need to keep her safe, but trust her? “Hell, no.”

I study the wound and frown. The skin around it is red and puffy. I don’t like the look of it. But I stay silent.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I run a gentle finger down over the cut, and she winces. I’m not sure I should tell her the next bit, but she should know the truth. “Their claws sometimes contain a poison that can kill, even when the wound isn’t fatal.”

She swallows. “So I’m going to die?”

“No!” I growl. “I haven’t come this far to let you die.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to ease the pressure. “I just wish Sheela were here.”

I continue to clean the wound as gently as I can. All the same, gentle or not, I can see I’m hurting her. She bites down on her lower lip, and a bead of blood wells up. She licks it away.

Once it’s clean, I stroke a white, creamy salve along the length of it. “This should counteract any poison,” I tell her. “But it may get worse before it gets better.”

“You’re good at this,” she says.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” I hesitate. I’m not used to opening up about myself, but it may distract her. “I was in the army—it was a useful skill to have.”

“Really? I should have known from the way you fight. I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of practice at that as well. Which army?”

“My father’s,” I say. But I really don’t want to go into that. “Raise your arms,” I order. Her eyes narrow, but she attempts it while still holding her T-shirt vaguely in place. Except that’s not going to work. I hold up the bandage and see the comprehension in her eyes. She turns slightly away from me, then slowly raises her arms and her T-shirt. I try to keep my gaze averted from the fullness of her breasts as I wind the bandage tightly around her and fasten it off.

As soon as the wound is covered, she heaves a big sigh.

I step back. “You’re done for now, though we’ll have to keep an eye on it. Let me know if the pain gets worse.”

“I will.” She slips the T-shirt back over her head and takes another deep breath. I put my arm around her shoulders, and for a second, she leans into me. I know I should let her go. Nothing has changed. I still don’t know how this will play out. But I can’t help holding her close for just a minute. I breathe deeply. She smells of blood, but beneath that, I catch the salty tang of the air where the ocean meets the land.

Mine, Fury whispers through my mind.

I help her to her feet, and she takes a step, stops, sways, then steadies herself. I put her a little away from me, then steer her toward the fire where someone has put a blanket on the ground, next to a tree. I lower her to it, and she leans back with a sigh.

I cross the camp, find a glass and water, and hurry back.

She takes it but looks at me with a frown.

“The food will be ready soon,” I say. “Rest.”

“I need to go and check on Stella.”

“Don’t worry about Stella. She’s fine. I’ll see to her.”

Her frown deepens.

“Is something wrong?” I ask. “Do you need anything else?”

“Shit,” she says. “You’re being nice. Too nice. I must be really sick. Like hovering at death’s door sick. Am I going to die?”

“No,” I growl. “I won’t let you fucking die.”

And I walk away.

As soon as I’m out of sight, I bend over and throw up.

Because I just don’t know if she’ll survive or not.