Page 42

E mily

Vrok lies crumpled on the ground, blood spreading in a dark pool beneath him. His skin has turned a sickly, ashen gray, and the sight of it sends a spike of panic straight through me.

“No,” I whisper, dropping to my knees beside him. “No, no, no.”

I rip a strip of material from the hem of my shirt and press it against his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it gushes out around my fingers. It soaks through the fabric in seconds, but I keep pressing, harder and harder, refusing to give up.

“Please,” I choke out as tears blur my vision. “Don’t leave me.”

His silver eyes flutter open to stare up at me, and his breath comes in short, ragged gasps. I can feel him slipping away, and it’s tearing me apart.

A low groan escapes his lips as he lifts a trembling hand and cups my cheek. His touch is featherlight and cold. So cold. I’m so used to the heat his large body radiates that the icy press of his fingers against my skin steals my breath.

I lean into his palm, desperate to share even a fraction of my warmth. “I’m here. I’m right here,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

Then I bend down and press my lips to his. It’s a brief kiss, but I pour everything into it. All my fear, my hope, my love. When I pull back, his eyes find mine, and there’s a flicker of clarity there that gives me hope.

His lips part, and in a raspy whisper, he says, “Amoris.”

With that one word, everything shifts.

Recognition hits me like a bolt of lightning, and it lands somewhere deep in my chest. That strange heat that’s followed me around for days suddenly roars to life.

It surges through me, burning bright and fierce, filling every hollow place inside me I thought I’d made peace with. And I know what he’s just said is true.

He’s my amoris. My spirit mate.

A ball of warm energy blooms in the center of my chest, and it’s pulsing with a slow, steady beat. And I know without a doubt that it’s him. It’s Vrok. Even as his body weakens, his spirit lives inside me.

“Yes,” I breathe out. Tears run down my face and spill onto his face. “Yes, I’m yours. I’m your amoris.”

A faint smile curves his lips. It’s so small I nearly miss it, but it’s there and it makes my breath catch in my throat. Then his eyes drift shut, and his body goes still. His hand slips from my face, hitting the blood-soaked ground with a thud.

“No!” I cry, panic crashing over me. “Don’t you dare leave me!”

I press harder against his wound. Blood is everywhere, on his skin, covering my hands, staining my clothes, soaking into the ground beneath us. I can’t lose him. I won’t .

I jerk my head up, and glance around wildly. We’re completely alone. The scarred warrior who fought beside Vrok is gone. I don’t know where he went or if he’s even coming back.

A rustling sound at the edge of the jungle draws my attention toward the trees, and I whip my head around to see Lily stumble into the clearing. Her face is pale and drawn tight with exhaustion, but she’s alive and she’s here.

“Lily!” I shout. “Help me!”

She drops the satchels she’s carrying and rushes to my side, her eyes widening as she takes in Vrok’s blood-soaked body.

“Oh my God…” she whispers.

“We have to stop the bleeding.” My voice is wild with panic. “Please, help me!”

Lily doesn’t hesitate. Her hands shake, but she presses down on the wound, trying to slow the flow.

I scramble to the satchels and dig through them with blood-slick fingers until I find the tin of salixa gel. My hands are too slippery, and at first, the lid won’t budge. But I finally wrench it off and scoop out a thick glob of the green goo and smear it on the wound.

I don’t know if it will help, but it’s the only thing I have. Lily helps me press the fabric over it, both of us trembling as we try to keep pressure on the injury. Vrok doesn’t move. Not even a twitch.

Fear claws at me, threatening to pull me down into a cold pit of despair, but the warm ball of energy that’s lodged itself in my chest keeps me from panicking. His spirit is still there, and as long as it is, he’s alive.

“Come on, Vrok,” I whisper to him. “Stay with me.”

The sudden sound of crashing through the trees jerks my head up. The scarred warrior bursts into the clearing, leading two eponirs behind him.

My breath hitches, and for a second, I feel like I might just collapse from the sheer, aching relief.

He takes one look at Vrok and doesn’t waste a second. “We need to get him to the Anuriix village. Now.”

Without hesitation, he lifts Vrok with ease and drapes his limp body over one of the eponirs. My stomach twists as Vrok’s head lolls. The warrior ties him to the saddle, securing him tightly before turning to me. “You’ll have to ride behind him and hold him steady.”

My hands are shaking as I climb up behind Vrok and wrap my arms around his torso to keep him upright. His body sags against mine, and I press my face against his hair. My tears soak into the soft strands.

The warrior helps Lily onto the other eponir, then swings up behind her and grabs the reins.

“We’ll need to move fast. Hold on tight,” he says, his voice tight with urgency, before he barks out a sharp command. The eponirs surge forward, their hooves pounding against the ground, with the scarred warrior taking the lead.

I tighten my grip around Vrok, cradling him close as the powerful animal races swiftly through the jungle. My chest presses against his broad back and my arms are wrapped firmly around his waist. He’s terrifyingly still with his head lolling weakly on my shoulder, like he’s halfway gone already.

Despite the fear clawing at my chest, I can still feel his spirit. It glows warmly inside me. Every so often, it flickers faintly, but it doesn’t disappear. And that gives me hope. As long as I can still feel his spirit, he’s still alive.

The jungle flies past us in a blur of glowing greens and blues. Towering cupressi trees arch overhead, their twisted limbs clawing at the sky like gnarled fingers. We ride hard for hours, the only sounds the pounding of our mounts’ hooves and the rasp of Vrok’s breathing.

The eponir’s muscles bunch and stretch beneath me, each jolt rattling through my spine, but I grit my teeth and hold on tighter. Vrok is dead weight against me, and I’m terrified if I let go of him, for even a second, he’ll slip away from me.

By the time the first pale light of morning filters through the canopy, the eponirs are slick with sweat. Their sides heave and their muscles quiver with every step. They’re at their limit.

The warrior glances over his shoulder. “We need to stop. The eponirs will collapse if they don’t rest soon.”

I look down at Vrok. His face is lined with pain, and his eyes are still closed. Stopping is the last thing I want to do, but he’s right. If we lose the eponirs and have to make the trip on foot, then Vrok is as good as dead.

He leads us off the path, guiding his mount to a halt beneath the shelter of a large, twisted tree.

Its thick branches stretch out above us forming a canopy that dims the weak morning light.

Overhead, a lisek lets out a high, fluttery chirp, and for one strange moment, the world feels calm and peaceful.

Like it doesn’t care that someone I love is clinging to life.

The warrior swings down from his saddle in one smooth move before he reaches up and lifts Lily from the saddle, his touch surprisingly gentle as he sets her down. She sways on her feet, and he steadies her.

For a moment, their eyes meet, and something in his hard expression softens. Just for a second. Then he turns to me, his focus shifting to Vrok.

“I’ll help you get him down,” he says.

Together, we ease Vrok from the saddle, careful not to jostle him. His body is limp and terrifyingly still. We lower him to the ground beneath the tree, and I drop down to sit beside him. My hands shake as I peel back the soaked fabric around his waist.

Dread coils tight in my stomach. The bandage around his abdomen is soaked through with blood, but as I fumble with it, I realize the stain is dark and dry. It’s not fresh blood.

The bleeding has stopped. A fragile spark of hope flares inside me, flickering to life like a match struck in the dark.

Lily sinks to the ground beside me, her eyes glassy with fatigue. “Emily, is he going to be okay?” she whispers.

I swallow hard and blink against the burn of tears. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “He’s fighting and he’s strong. “But he’s still here, and he’s fighting.”

The warrior drops a satchel on the ground and crouches on the other side of Vrok. The expression on his face is grim as he leans over and inspects the wound.

“The salixa gel is working,” he murmurs. “But he’ll have a better chance if a medic treats him.”

Turning back to the satchel at his side, he rummages in it for a moment before he pulls out a full waterskin and a leather pouch. He opens the pouch and holds it out to me. Inside are plump bilb berries.

“They’re packed with energy,” he explains. “If he’s got anything left in him, these might give him the strength to hang on. Squeeze a few drops of juice into his mouth. Not much. He won’t be able to swallow more than that, but it should be enough.”

I nod and take a handful of berries. “Thank you,” I whisper.

He passes the pouch and waterskin to Lily. “You should eat, too,” he says, gentler now. “You need to keep up your strength.”

I turn back to Vrok and press a plump berry against his dry, cracked lips and squeeze until dark purple juice bursts free and trickles into his mouth. It pools on his tongue before sliding down his throat. For a second, nothing happens. Then his throat moves in the faintest of swallows.

Relief makes my shoulders sag. “Come on, Vrok,” I whisper as I squeeze another berry between his lips. “Stay with me. Just a little longer.”

I won’t lose him. I just can’t. Not after everything we’ve been through. And not after I’ve only just realized how much he means to me.

Across from me, the warrior watches Vrok like a hawk. The scar on his face bisects his eye before trailing down his cheek and ending at his mouth, causing one corner to turn up in a twisted smile. I remember Mara mentioning a scarred warrior who was secretly working against the Tussoll and Pugj.

I clear my throat. “You’re Zahrik, aren’t you? Mara told me about you. She said you’re a double agent.”

His shoulders tense and his gaze lifts to meet mine. Wariness flickers in his eyes before he looks away.

“I don’t know what that means,” he mutters. “But if it means I don’t agree with what my tribe is doing, then yes.”

“I’m Emily, and this is my cousin, Lily.”

Zahrik’s eyes shift to Lily, and I see guilt flash across his face. “I apologize for my tribe’s actions. I only returned to the village last night. If I’d known they had captured you, I would have already freed you.” His jaw tightens, making the scar across his cheek twist with the motion.

He looks away from her and his expression turns distant again. And in that moment, I see the weight he carries. The pain of realizing the tribe he once honored has betrayed everything he believes in.

Lily glances up from the pouch of berries in her lap. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she speaks. “You’re helping now. That’s what matters.”

His expression softens again, the harsh lines of his face easing just a bit. “You are too forgiving. It’s more than I deserve,” he says slowly. “I haven’t done enough, but that will change.”

She shrugs, her eyes downcast. “I just want to go home, but that’s not possible, is it?” Lily looks at me in question, and I shake my head in answer. Her gaze drops back to her lap and her fingers fidget with the pouch.

“Thank you, Zahrik. For helping us, for fighting beside Vrok against your tribe, for coming with us.” I swallow hard.

My chest tightens and a fresh wave of tears pricks my eyes. Things would have been so different if Zahrik hadn’t been there. I might have lost Vrok right then and there, but now, at least he has a chance. If we can get back to the village in time.

“I can’t stand by while my tribe turns into something I don’t recognize. I won’t be part of it.” His jaw tightens. “And I need to speak with Chief Daggir.”

The silence stretches for a few minutes before I finally ask, “How much farther is the Anuriix village?”

He squints up at the sky through the branches. “We aren’t too far from the Vex Grassland. If we keep the same pace as earlier, then we should reach the village by nightfall.”

I look down at Vrok and brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re almost there.”

After a few more minutes, Zahrik stands. “I’ll ready the eponirs.” He hesitates for a moment, his gaze lingering on Lily before he abruptly turns and walks away.

Lily watches him go with a furrowed brow. Then she turns to me. “Who are these guys?”

“They’re Laediriians. We crashed on their planet, Laedirissae. Vrok and Zahrik aren’t like the Laediriians who took you. They’re the good guys.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “Do you trust them?”

I think of every time Vrok has thrown himself into danger without hesitation. How he’s risked his life for me again and again. And I think of Zahrik fighting side by side with him, and the pained, haunted look in his eyes when he spoke of his tribe.

They’ve both risked everything for us.

“Yeah, I do,” I say in a clear voice.