Then the woods fall silent, so painfully silent.
There is my queen. Memnon’s words seem to echo in the silence, though I know I’m only hearing them in my head.
I take a deep breath of air, then cough, my throat raw. Nero comes over to me, rubbing his head and then his body against my face.
I force myself to my feet, though my body feels incapable of holding me up. I stumble over to where I saw the creature’s remains fall.
When I get to where I think it landed, I whisper “illuminate” into my hand.
A weak orb of light bursts forth, the light from it flickering. I blow it off my palm, watching it float over the ground.
I draw in a breath when I see dozens and dozens of clay shards. I lift one of the larger pieces, one that resembles a finger. The inside of it is hollow. There’s no muscle, no bone, no blood. The thing that almost killed me literally shattered like a broken pot. Still, several feet away, its head and one of its shoulders lie mostly intact.
As I walk up to it, it hisses, snapping its teeth at me.
Yeah, not today, Frankenstein.
I lift my bare foot, then slam it down on its face, grimacing as the sharp, jagged edges of its head cut into my skin.
What’s one more injury at this point?
I draw my foot back and bash it in again. And again.
Somewhere along the way, I begin to scream my rage, and I think I may be crying, and I don’t care. I don’t care because my body feels like this is the last bit of energy I have.
I pulverize the creature’s face until nothing remains.
And then I limp my way back to the girl.
I still don’t know her name.
I want to laugh. We both nearly died three times over, yet I don’t know her name, and she knows even less about me.
Then I do laugh, and I think I’m still crying.
I’m losing it. I know I am.
I bend to pick her up, and it’s not going to happen, my muscles are too tired, my body too spent.
Still, I manage to scrape together enough of Memnon’s power to lend me the needed strength.
I haul the girl into my arms and stumble toward the boundary separating witch from lycanthrope territory. With a final lunge, I cross the line.
I fall to my knees on the other side of it, Nero next to me.
My arms loosen, and the girl slides out of them.
And then I pass out.
CHAPTER 29
I am cloaked in darkness, my mind wrapped in it like a blanket. It only pulls back slightly when I hear a low warning growl from Nero, who’s curled against my side.
I fight my way back to consciousness, rousing only enough to lift my hand in additional warning to whoever is approaching.
My eyes meet the brown eyes of a wolf. As soon as I see it, I drop my hand.
Not a witch.
In the back of my mind, I note the irony that even bloody and weak, I feel safer right now in the presence of a predator than I do a witch.
“It’s okay, Nero,” I whisper.
My familiar quiets, though he’s tense behind me.
The wolf paces forward, and if it’s interested in eating me, I’m F-U-C-K-E-D because I’m not moving. I don’t think I could even if I tried.
The wolf takes a few steps forward, then soundlessly shifts. In its place stands a naked older man.
He rushes over the last of the distance before kneeling at our side, uncaring that a panther is mere feet from him. I can’t see the man’s expression, but he must smell the blood on me. I’ve lost a lot, I think…
I don’t know what we must look like.
The man leans into the girl’s neck and breathes in her scent. Whatever he smells causes him to whine. Then he leans over and scents me as well, his nose tickling my skin. Nero growls again but doesn’t do anything else. I hear another whine come from the man, this one slightly different.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
I don’t think so, but I don’t bother admitting that.
Instead, I reach out and grope in the darkness for his hand. When I find it, I give it a squeeze.
I swallow, beating back the darkness that keeps clouding my vision.
“They tried…to…bind her,” I whisper. I feel a pressing need to get this story out now, in case more people come for me and the girl. “She was…drugged… Did…my best…to…get her…here.” I keep having to pause to catch my breath. Everything hurts so damn bad. Even pushing out words. And my vision keeps clouding. I think. It’s so dark. I don’t know. Confused.
The girl, I remind myself.
“Please…” I say, squeezing the shifter’s hand, “get her…to safety…before they…come back.”
“Who? Who’s coming back?”
I try to speak again, but I’m so tired. So, so tired.
I think I drift a little, but I rouse again when I hear the shifter howl, the sound of it raising my gooseflesh. I crack my eyes open—when did they close?—and see the girl is in his arms.
“Thank you for protecting Cara,” he says, and oh, he’s talking to me.
I try to sharpen my focus.
“I’m going to send some pack mates over here,” he continues. “We’ll get you healed and taken care of. Just hold tight.” That last part sounds a bit like a plea, and I understand why a second later.
The shifter retreats into the darkness, carrying the girl.
I should feel terrified of being left alone, weak as I am. But Nero is beside me, and I know he’s keeping watch. Between that and my relief that the girl is now back with her pack, I let the darkness take me once more.
It seems like only minutes later when my sleep is interrupted again. I hear the heavy crunch of pine needles as someone approaches.
One of the shifters, I remind myself.
The footsteps halt when they get to me.
“Only fools and warriors pass out under an open sky. Reckless woman, you are a bit of both.”
I jolt when I hear the voice, forcing my eyes open. In the darkness, I can barely make out Memnon’s features, but it’s him.
How did you find me? I want to ask him, but I’m so tired, and I know if I try to speak—if I dare move at all—then my various wounds will start waking up with me.
We are soul mates. I can always find you.
He reaches out and brushes the hair from my face. It’s…nice. I let my eyes drift closed and enjoy the sensation of his fingers on me. Now that I’m vulnerable, I can admit to myself that Memnon’s very presence makes me feel safe.
His hand retreats from my hair, and I hate that his touch is gone. And then I think I’m supposed to hate that I hate that, but fuck, I’m too tired to bother caring at this point.
Hands slide under my body. Even that slight jostling has me moaning as my injuries flare to life.
“It’s all right, little witch. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
The moment he lifts me fully into his arms, it feels like I’m being attacked all over again. I cry out as pain lacerates across my body.
Memnon curses under his breath. “Ease the pain from within,” he utters.
His magic seeps into me from that point over my heart. Almost immediately, the pain dissolves. I want to laugh; it feels so good not to hurt. But I’m so tired. Even more so now that I have a true break from the pain.