Page 32 of The Unseen Hour (The Unseen Hour Duology #1)

“ B oth gods save us!” I gasped.

Admittedly, I hadn’t had much of a plan after leaping onto the bear, but I’d envisioned a less deadly exit than a sheer drop.

My hope had been to distract and lure the bears away from Orion, find an opportunity to grab a low-hanging branch, and disappear into the trees while the creatures lumbered on.

Clearly, I’d miscalculated.

I craned my neck around while bouncing on the creature’s back.

The other two bears were right behind us, but mine was the quickest, and the distance between them was growing.

The creature slowed slightly as we neared the cliff, turning his head right to snarl.

I looked that way just in time to see a rock hit the bear’s side.

“Right here! You want me!” Orion yelled as he stepped out from behind a large boulder, waving his arm, his right leg dragging behind him as he came forward.

His eyes found mine. I knew my own were wide and terrified.

“Jump when I tell you!” he called .

“What?”

The great bear stopped and threw back its head with a roar. I struggled to grasp the fur in my sweating palms.

Orion was yelling back at the beast, imitating its roar.

I heard a whistle—something flying through the air—and felt the bear jerk back when the object made contact with its front.

“Now! Jump!”

Trembling, I squeezed my eyes shut, released the bear’s fur and flung myself off the creature’s back.

I hit the dirt with force but managed to tuck and roll as small pebbles embedded themselves into my legs, bruising my knees and shins despite my sturdy trousers.

I scrambled away from the still-roaring bear, toward Orion’s outstretched arms.

“This way!” he urged as he grabbed my hand and yanked me back toward the rocks.

The bear I had been riding was thrashing and twisting, Orion’s dagger protruding from its large neck. It was either luck or direct intervention of the gods when it stumbled into the path of the other two creatures, who had spotted us and were now racing toward us.

There was a tangle of fur and claws, and as the injured beast extricated itself, it took a few lumbering steps back on its hind legs.

Then it stumbled over the cliff edge.

My eyes wanted to follow the falling bear, but Orion took advantage of the distraction and tugged again at my arm. “We’re going upwind, where they can’t find us as easily.”

With his injury, he was moving slowly. I wanted to suggest stopping so I could take a look at it; there was entirely too much blood soaking his leg.

Then another ear-splitting roar sounded, reminding me that if we didn’t get away from the remaining bears, there would be no point in worrying about an injured limb.

We plunged farther into the trees.

“Are you all right?” Orion asked, his chest heaving for breath, once we had gained enough distance and the roars had faded behind us.

We stopped under a large tree, sheltered by branches that arced down like willow boughs and provided some cover.

“Am I all right? What about you?”

He waved me off.

“Minor inconvenience. I’ve been in worse scrapes than this before. You’re sure that you’re not hurt?”

He took my face in his hands, then my arms, examining me for any wounds. Longing shot through me as he pulled up my sleeves, his hands moving over my skin.

“Orion.”

He pulled back, eyes widening as though he’d just realized that he’d had his hands all over me.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that?—”

“I don’t mind.” I stepped forward, reaching for his hand. He wrapped his arms around me, but sagged against me, and I readjusted my stance to hold his weight.

I looked back up at his face and saw a sheen of sweat. Panic woke in my heart.

“Ry! You look feverish. We need to get you home. Now.”

When we stopped to catch our breath again, we were close to the cottage.

It was deep into night by this point, the greens and blues of the Ether’s forest serving as only a mild comfort.

I was exhausted, but Orion looked far worse.

His skin had a pale, sickly pallor. Strands of hair were slicked against his face with sweat.

“What do we do about your leg?” I asked, cursing myself for how useless I felt.

“We’ll have to clean it, and brace it.”

I helped him stay upright until we reached the cottage.

“No, just set me outside,” he insisted when I reached for the door. “I’ll get blood everywhere. There’s another dagger inside, on a shelf behind the table. Get that, and we can cut some material to wrap around the wound.”

“I still have the one in my holster.”

He shook his head, then winced.

“We’ve been sitting in the dirt, wandering through the woods. It’ll be dirty. We need a clean blade.”

Bandaging gruesome wounds was not something with which I had experience, but I swallowed down the queasiness rumbling in my stomach and pushed the door open. If he said he needed a specific blade, I’d get it.

Both gods be praised, or however many gods be praised, the knife was exactly where he had indicated. I snatched it, careful to keep my touch only to the handle, and went back outside.

“Rinse your hands. Then you’ll have to cut around the damaged skin and get rid of any material stuck to the wound,” he instructed.

He had, in addition to his many other useful contraptions, a piece of wood that he’d attached to a branch above the garden, which directed rainwater into a bucket below. I dunked my hands into the bucket of fresh rainwater—we’d had a shower the previous day—then went back to Orion.

My hands trembled, and I crouched over his leg so he wouldn’t see me shaking. I would have to slice most of that pant leg off, a good way up his thigh. My cheeks heated, and I chastised myself. This was no time for modesty .

I pulled a piece of tattered fabric away from the wound, and Orion hissed. Some of the blood had dried, and bits of shredded fabric were stuck in the wound, as he’d predicted.

“You’re awfully prepared for this scenario. Just how often have you upset one of these great bears?” I teased, trying to take his mind off the pain.

“I’ve encountered them a handful of times before, but I’ve managed to avoid a direct conflict with them. Although—” he hissed as I cut away another bit of fabric.

“Go on,” I urged.

“—there was a time I accidentally stumbled on a slycat with a cub. That was an exciting day. Had to stitch up my own arm.”

I’d seen the scar when he’d had his sleeves rolled up, working in the garden.

He gasped as I sliced away another chunk of fabric.

“This will leave another scar, I’d wager. Probably not the way most people picture a duke.”

He hissed again at the next bit of fabric being pulled from his skin.

“Almost done,” I assured him, not reminding him that I’d then have to wash the area. “And I think you’re far more handsome than any duke who’s done nothing but sit on his estate.”

There was no biting comeback, no flirtatious commentary in response. That worried me more than anything.

“You know, I have a scar as well,” I admitted.

“Really. Tell me.” His voice was hoarse.

I told him about my fall from Pellix and our encounter with the wolf as I did the best I could to clean the area thoroughly without causing him further agony.

“Brave woman. Brave stallion. I think I’ll like Pellix,” he said.

Then his eyes fluttered closed.

I clutched his face, leaving streaks of dirt and blood on his cheeks .

“You have to stay awake! Tell me how to brace your leg!”

Something told me that if I let him slip into unconsciousness, he’d be in even worse danger.

I kissed him, desperately, trying any contact to rouse him that wasn’t painful.

“Maybe … should get injured … more often.”

I was crying by that point but kept my composure as well as I could.

He walked me through the steps to brace his leg, his voice growing fainter and fainter.

I used wood and rope from the garden supplies, along with some torn strips of clean fabric, following all his instructions to create a splint.

“There, done!” I looked up at him as I finished tying the last bit of fabric, gasping when I saw his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open.

“Orion! Ry! No!” I kissed his cheek, but he didn’t even move. I took him by the shoulders, shaking him. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I needed him to stay conscious. “You’re all right!”

If I said it enough, it might be true. I pulled him toward me, hugging him tight against my chest.

“Please wake up!”

“You know, this might be counterintuitive if you want me to have room to breathe, not that I’m complaining.”

I practically threw him off me, sobbing and laughing at once.

“You wretched man! You terrified me.”

I didn’t have any time to puzzle over whether he’d meant the comment to be as flirtatious as it had sounded. I just had to keep him conscious.

He’d made a soup a couple of days before, and I heated some over the fire. I brought it out along with some of the purple almost-potatoes, hand-feeding him. I sagged with relief as some of his color began to return.

Once I’d lectured him into sipping some water as well, he looked to be in no immediate danger of passing out again.

“Thank you, Starlight.”

When he stood, he swayed, but with me supporting him under his arm we made it inside. I helped him onto the second cot he’d set up after my arrival but kept him sitting up, his back against a wall.

I put the back of my hand to his forehead. Not feverish, thank all the blasted gods.

He let out a sigh.

“Much better.”

“You’re not going to expire on me, then?”

“No. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Maybe I like being stuck with you. If that bear … if something had happened …”

Blasted ghosts!

I was starting to cry. All the adrenaline had finally leached from my system, leaving room for me to focus on how close we’d come to death. How close I’d been to losing Orion.

As tears started to roll down my cheeks, Orion reached out and tugged on my hands. I sank down next to him, kneeling at the edge of the cot. I would have loved to lean against him, or tuck myself into his arms, but I didn’t want to jostle him.

He reached up, cupping my cheek. His palm came away wet.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone down here. That’s a promise. Is that what you were worried about?” he whispered.

I was too tired to play games with my words.

“I wasn’t worried for myself. I was worried about you.

I would have been devastated. You’ve been down here all this time, and you’re so close to getting home.

If it had been my fault … if you’d died down here because you were trying to save me, I never could have forgiven myself.

You deserve to go home too, Ry. You deserve a life. ”

“Mmm-hmm,” he mused, “and what about you? You jumped onto the back of a great bear—a creature I’ve never managed to hunt here—and nearly got yourself trampled.

You would have come all this way for selfless reasons, compassionate reasons, and would have died because you were more concerned for me than yourself. I did tell you to run away, you know.”

His voice was soft and soothing. I scowled at him but didn’t pull away from his touch. His thumb traced my jawline.

I shivered.

“Yes. I know. But I couldn’t leave you.”

“You, Celia Hipnosi, are remarkable. No man could tell you what to do. No man should try. If we do make it back, after we break the Unseen Hour, I’ll help you with whatever other goals you seek to achieve. I have no doubt you can shatter any barrier you set your mind to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know how you’ve said you hate ‘flouncing around,’ as you put it, in restrictive pink dresses.

While I’d give quite a bit of money to see you in a pink, puffy dress, you have a right to wear what you like, and go where you like, and I’ll do all I can to see that hope achieved.

A hundred years ago, I attended all the same endless social events of the season that you’ve endured.

I met every eligible woman in Emrys, and I can assure you that I’ve never met someone like you. ”

“Someone who caused this much trouble?”

Orion shook his head.

“No. Someone I cared for this much. Someone who woke something deep in me that I thought had been long extinguished. I will defend you from anyone who tries to cage you, just like I did with the great bears. Not because you can’t do it on your own, but because you shouldn’t have to.

I won’t allow anyone to take your spark, or snuff it out. No one gets to hurt you.”

The blue flecks in his eyes were blazing.

My heart stuttered.

Could we really find a way to change things, even back in Emrys?

And do it together?

The idea was intoxicating.

“Starlight, I’m going to kiss you, if you’ll allow it.”

“Do you really think you’re recovered enough for that?”

“I’d say it might just be the best possible remedy.”

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.