A Kingdom of Exiles (Outcast)

He made a beeline for the slab’s smooth surface upon which he sat. Frazer removed the kaskan from his shoulder, placed it on his lap, and brushed his fingers along the curved limb, testing, flexing. I unbuckled my sword before settling down next to him.

A few minutes passed while we listened to the hollow silence stretching through the gully. High, steep walls pressed in on all sides, and every whisper echoed. It definitely wasn’t a place I wished to linger in.

So it was with a relieved sigh that I heard humming wingbeats. Adrianna landed next to us. Before I got a chance to ask, she said, “It’s done. He’s safe. I’ll take you there now and fly back for Frazer.”

Normally I’d have protested, but the urge to check on Wilder was too strong. I stood and murmured a quick goodbye to Frazer. He watched on silently as Adrianna took me in her arms, and soared up, up, up.

The moment Adrianna leveled off, I asked, “Is he awake yet?”

“No. D’you know what they dosed him with?”

Her frown had my belly churning. “Sedatives. At least that’s what they said.”

I watched her carefully. No flickers of concern. A small comfort.

Adrianna added, “We’ll have to wait for him to wake up, but I’ve cleaned his wounds and done a patching thread on his wing. It’s the best I could do with the shitty medical kit they gave us.”

“It’s better than anything I could’ve done,” I said gratefully.

We landed outside a cave on an overhanging rock face. Nowhere near the jagged peaks, but high enough that the wind wrestled with Adrianna as she locked her wings in. She didn’t lower me until we’d ducked into the small cavern.

There was Wilder. Adrianna had set him on top of a bedroll. His armor had been removed along with his boots, blades, and rucksack, and placed against the cave wall. There were even firelights flickering above him.

He looked peaceful: fussed over. Something about that had my heart plummeting into a hollow space. I tried to distract myself by asking, “Where did you get the lights?”

“I called them. Firelights love the mountains.” Adrianna suddenly grasped my shoulder. “We got him back. You can relax now.”

“You got him back,” I murmured.

Adrianna eyeballed me as her fingers squeezed my collarbone. A commander on the battlefield giving heart to a soldier. That’s what it felt like. “I’ll give you some time alone with him.”

She spun, ran, and leaped from the lip of the cave. She hadn’t opened her wings. My mortal instincts screamed as I watched her dive into thin air. Then she appeared, buffeted by scaled wings. Adrianna circled, banked, and glided out of view.

I felt another sting. Envious of the freedom that came with flight. Maybe I’d welcome the transformation more than I’d realized.

I placed my sword alongside Wilder’s things. My boots and the bag, too. Such a joy to be free of all that weight.

I hurried over to his side. He painted a peaceful portrait.

My knees buckled. I shuffled, coming to rest next to his shoulders. Just as Viola had done for me whenever I’d complained of sickness, I felt his brow to check for fever. There was nothing, so I pushed aside the cloak that was draped over him to examine his arm and wings. Adrianna had done a good job. Apart from a few angry, puckered scars and some stitching, there was little evidence of the arrows’ impact.

Dropping my head to his chest, I rested there, listening to the rhythm of his heart’s blood. Tears trickled down my nose. “Why did you do it?” I whispered.

The hiss of the arrows, and the growls as they tore through his wing. Blood splattering my cheek. The sounds and images tumbled around like water around a wheel.

A whisper of, “Serena,” had my whole body clenching. I sat up and looked down. He was shifting, head rolling, eyelids fluttering.

I breathed, “I’m here. Tysion tried to take you.”

His mouth parted a little. No sound came out. He wet his lips and tried again.

“I’ll get you some water.”

I moved to get a skin, but he grasped ahold of my forearm. “Don’t. Just … stay,” he croaked.

His eyes opened fully then. Two fingers reached up, tracing the curve of my lower lip.

My heart cracked. A broken sob erupted; I knocked his arm aside, bent over, and covered his mouth with my own.

It wasn’t the smoothest move, but I didn’t care—not after what we’d been through. Not after what I’d almost lost.

No more waiting.

Wilder’s eyes widened. He stilled. For a moment, it was like kissing rock. Then, his nostrils flared as he caught my scent. He groaned softly, and the sound sluiced through my veins, making my heart race. His fingers worked their way through my hair, grasping.

My eyes shuttered as he moved with me. A gentle kiss that was more than a little hesitant, intensified as our tongues met, caressing, exploring. I thought my heart might fail from running so fast.

Total sensory overload. I pulled back. I needed to breathe, to think, free of his scent and power.

Wilder didn’t let me go far. Stopping me an inch from his lips, he let out a ragged whisper that teased my mouth. “That wasn’t fair. I was barely awake.”

“Sorry.”

A lie. And he knew it. “No, you’re not,” he said.

I gave him my best playful smirk. “I hope I didn’t take advantage.”

Wilder’s eyes burned, shifting to my mouth, heating my blood. “I’m glad you did,” he said, slowly rising to a seated position. Once he was at eye level, he scanned the area and asked, “Where are we?”

“A cave in the Barsul Pass.”

His stare settled on the fissure in the rock and the blue sky outside. A frown creased his brows. “How did you get us up here?”

I rocked back onto my heels, saying, “I didn’t. Frazer and Adrianna showed up and saved us. Adi’s gone to get Frazer now.”

Wilder’s eyes found mine. A twinkle of mirth. “They followed us because they didn’t trust me, right?”

I nodded, nervous of his reaction. There was no annoyance or anger. He seemed more impressed than anything. He continued to peer around the small cave. Probably sizing up our territory.

“Do you need anything?” I inquired.

He went to brush a chin-length strand of hair from my face. Those fingers leaving behind a flaming trail in their wake, he answered. “Some water.”

The weariness etched around his eyes made me move quickly. I got to my pack and yanked out the half-empty flask. Glancing over my shoulder, I asked, “Are you hungry?”

An instant reply. “Yes. Check my bag. I still have some dried meat slices.”

“Yum,” I mumbled.

A grumble of amusement sounded from Wilder as I fished out his rations. Gods, they looked even more unappetizing in daylight.

I hurried back to his side as he was inspecting his injured wing. I watched, fascinated, as he ran a fingertip over the membrane around his stitches. He didn’t show any signs of discomfort. A relief. Then, he moved on to prodding and sniffing the inflamed area, presumably testing for infection. Once his wings had settled against his back, I asked, “Is it okay?”

“I’ve had worse,” he said.

His matter-of-fact attitude made me cringe. I’d no reason to doubt his word. The amount of injuries he must have sustained over centuries of fighting didn’t bear thinking about.

I silently handed over the rations and watched him gulp water and tear into the meat. His movements were slow and stiff. That just brought to mind what could’ve happened, and suddenly my words bubbled up and spilled over. “I owe you the truth.”

Wilder blinked, shocked. In between mouthfuls, he replied, “You owe me nothing.”

My body strained and tightened. A bowstring ready to snap. “You risked your life for me. You deserve to know.”

His brows came together, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he finished the dried meat off in one bite.

I continued. “I won’t tell you now because I don’t want the others around. They’ve already heard the story.”

He set the flask aside. “Understood.”

I wondered if he’d guessed that I didn’t want my friends to advise me against it—something told me he knew.

“Speaking of.” Wilder cast his chin toward the fissure in the rock.

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