Page 16 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)
She killed someone. She killed—
No. Stop. Mariana shook her head, trying to banish thoughts of the dead fae she’d left behind at the Crossing. There’s nothing you can do for him now. But you can still save this stupid, inconsiderate bastard , she told herself, huffing as she hauled Dax onto a cement slab, using it as a table.
She had followed the horses, which had bolted after the released fae galloped into the forest. They led her to an abandoned village, overrun with vines and decay. Only a few buildings remained standing, and this one, where she’d dragged Dax’s heavy body, seemed the least likely to collapse.
Mariana stared down at him, unsure what was wrong. She peeled his eyes open and saw that his pupils were completely dilated. That’s not good . She let his eyes drift shut again and tore open his shirt, exposing the still-bleeding wound.
He wasn’t healing. That wound should’ve been gone by now.
Leaning closer, she noticed the skin around the gash was turning an alarming shade of black .
She speared her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes, trying to think.
Astra had taught her how to treat infections that their bodies couldn’t heal on their own, but this … this was different. Fae poison. She had never flushed a fae’s body before—would it kill him?
Does it matter? He’s dying anyway.
Opening her eyes and dropping her hands, Mariana stared down at Dax, wondering why she was even considering saving his sorry ass. Her lips tightened, arms crossing over her chest.
He’d stolen her away from her family, ripped her from everything she loved. He expected her to just follow his orders, to be his good little siren?
“No,” she whispered darkly, turning away.
She made it all the way to the grazing horses before her conscience screamed at her to stop. To turn around. To save that ridiculous male.
She looked back, something deep inside tugging her toward him. This isn’t who you are, a small voice whispered. Her shoulders sagged.
With a groan of frustration, she stomped back toward Dax. The moment she got close, she slapped her hands over his bleeding wound and channeled her power.
Water from the air, droplets clinging to the vines, rushed up and out of her palm.
Dax screamed. His body convulsed, thrashing under her hands .
Mariana focused, steadying the water’s path. Careful. Keep it away from his heart. She focused her energy, guiding the water carefully through his veins.
The moment she sensed the sinister poison, the water wrapped around it and pulled.
Slowly, she lifted her hand, her breathing growing heavy as she coaxed the tainted water out of his body. Dax’s thrashing stilled. Her heart stuttered, fearing she’d killed him—but then his pulse fluttered weakly at his throat. He’d only passed out.
Hissing under her breath, Mariana yanked the last of the poison free, the blackened liquid dripping onto the ground at her feet. She stepped back, chest heaving.
She hadn’t practiced that technique enough to know if she’d gotten every last bit of it, but as she watched the wound slowly close, she let out a shaky breath.
“Thank the goddess,” she whispered.
She grabbed his pack from where she’d thrown it earlier, rifling through it until she found a pouch of medical supplies. Quickly, she patched the healing gash with gauze and tape.
As she smoothed the last piece of tape over the bandage, Dax’s hand drifted over hers.
Mariana stilled, glancing up to find his eyes barely open, half-lidded, and unfocused.
She leaned over him. “Dax?” she asked softly, unsure if he was even fully conscious.
His eyes fluttered closed again, but his hand tugged hers closer, pressing it over his heart.
Mariana didn’t know what to make of the gesture. She was exhausted, her body aching from using so much power in such a short span. Blaming it on the weariness, she sat beside him on the table, leaning back against a wall covered in soft vines.
She glanced down at him. He was still clutching her hand. His skin was warm. His calloused fingers, though rough, felt surprisingly gentle.
Lifting her free hand, she brushed her fingers across his forehead, smoothing the crease there. His face relaxed, tension fading from his brow.
Curiosity stirred. Her fingers trailed over his sharp cheekbones, tracing the line of his temple, his nose, and his lips. His facial hair was growing in, and she dragged her fingers against the roughness, enjoying the sensation.
She held her breath as his head shifted toward her touch, but his eyes never opened. Instead, he settled his head in her lap, her right arm resting on his shoulder as he continued to hold her hand.
She exhaled softly, a strange warmth spreading in her chest. Gently, she settled her other hand over his head and stroked his short, soft hair. His breathing slowed, steadying as his body relaxed completely against her thighs.
Mariana glanced down at the dirty dress barely covering where his head now rested. If he woke up like this … would he be embarrassed? Angry? Or …
Her lower belly tightened at the thought, and she quickly closed her eyes, resting her head back against the wall.
It didn’t matter. She honestly should have left already. Her sister was counting on her, and her family was looking for her. So why hadn’t she? Dax was the enemy, and yet …
She couldn’t bring herself to pull away .
Instead, her breathing evened out, her heartbeat calming as she stayed with the sleeping male.