Page 36 of Of Gods and Pain

The fucking bond connected for moments, and Nell must have reached out to the sorid for help. She was smart to not include Cas or I. Especially me, though. I’m having a horrendously difficult time confining myself to this room. I know it would be a horrible decision to leave, but my instincts are raging. They’re pounding against every fiber of reasonable thought I have, begging me to find her. For her to call Xamira when she’s made us each promise not to come for her? Something insanely dangerous must be happening.

I can’t feel either of the females. I’m trying to remind myself that there’s likely a good reason for it, but that doesn’t stop the intrusion of voices telling me they’re dead. They can’t be gone, though…we would feel it. Right? That has to be right; I don’t give a fuck that we haven’t completed the bonding ceremony yet. I would know if my soul bond wasn’t alive.

And if that is what’s happened, I no longer have a tether to this world. There is nothing keeping me here instead of storming to Ceross and tearing that sadistic fuck apart piece by piece. He wouldn’t have Nell’s magic anymore, so I could easily overpower him. Knowing how cruel he is, I’m not sure anyone there would stop me, either.

I hold on to that: either I get her back, or I go after her once I take care of the false god.

My thumb pinches, and I wince at the fresh wound I caused myself in trying to stay grounded. Casmir sits on the bed with his hands resting on his thighs, clenching his head tightly. I can see how badly he’s shaking and let out a deep sigh. I need to be a better friend.

I walk over to sit next to him and wrap an arm around his hunched shoulders. I don’t say anything, because I’m not sure what to say. I have no clue if it will be okay, and lying to comfort him seems like the wrong thing to do right now. So I hold him, squeezing tighter when he finally lets his sobs break through.

This fucking sucks.

I’ve never been a patient male, but this has to be the worst wait of my entire life. What if we’re waiting for nothing? If Nell was killed, Xamira would have died along with her and we’d be holding out for ghosts. We wouldn’t get any answers unless we found their bodies.

Because there’s no fucking chance I would believe they’ve gone back to the gods if I didn’t see proof. That cunning prick would tell us they were dead—with remorse on his face—just to keep us from snooping around any longer.

Casmir grabs my knee, and I fall back into this reality. My hand grips his ribs tightly and I loosen the pressure, closing my eyes to slow my breathing and get myself under control again.

We sit in silence for such a long time that I’m convinced it’s been days since Xamira left, but it’s only been a few hours. A heavy, pained sound erupts in the distance, causing Cas and me to dart to the balcony. The afternoon light is illuminating every detail of the mountainside, though I see nothing that could have caused the sound. I couldn’t have imagined it because he heard it, too.

Just then, the same sound slides over my pale skin, the hairs along my flesh rising to their full height. I think I stopped breathing. I must have, because my heart definitely stopped beating. I hear nothing, feel nothing, except for my focus on the mountaintop.

A dark figure emerges from over the summit, and a choked sob leaves Casmir at the sight of Xamira soaring towards us.

No fucking way.

This is it.

She bellows again, the sound loud and strained. I narrow my eyes and notice how hard she’s struggling; she’s panting deeply, her head bobs side to side, and she appears as if she’s about to fall out of the sky.

“Cas—”

“I know, I’ve got her,” he states firmly, tears streaking his swollen, crimson cheeks. His palms turn, and I look back at the panther to see her relief as she’s able to sag into the weight of Casmir’s air.

He groans and I know he’s exerting himself too much, but I will not tell him to stop. I love him, but I would hold a blade to his throat if he even thought about pulling his magic back. If I could help, I would push until my very soul evacuated my body from sheer exhaustion. Nothing would stop me from saving them.

Them.

Our soul bond is here. I see her wilted frame draped over Xamira’s back. Fuck, this is bad.

I run back into the room, moving everything I can out of the way and ripping the door from its hinges to create a large enough opening. I see the strain Cas is under, sweat sliding down him in quick waves, his skin so red I’m sure he must be overheating. I don’t think he’s ever used his magic like this before. He might kill himself for this.

Could I let him? If I had to choose between him or them…no, I can’t think about that. I won’t because he throws his arms roughly to the side, falling to the stone unconscious just as Xamira and Nell barrel into the room and land on the floor. They roll, the sorid still managing to smash into the bed even though I pushed it across the room.

Fuck.

Who do I check first?

I hesitate for only a moment, allowing one thread of panic through before shoving the rest into the steel cage hidden beneath my existence. My knees drop to the ground and I frantically crawl to my soul bond, checking for life. I nearly break when I see her breathing; it’s shallow, but it’s there.

Oh my fucking gods.

I’ve never seen someone in such poor condition. Her hair is matted with dried blood, which has run down the side of her face, mixing with the liquid that’s seeped from her ear. There are several bruises on her face, and her left eye is completely swollen shut. There's an arrow jutting out of her arm; and I'm thankful she's not awake because that is going to really hurt to remove. I think her shoulder is dislocated, and I don’t even want to lift her shirt because I just know she’s going to be too skinny and covered in more devastating marks.

I do anyway, because I need to see if there’s anything life threatening. My vision goes blurry at the sight. She definitely has broken ribs, though I don’t sense any emergent injuries.

Looking further down, I curse to myself at the sight of her broken knee. The skin has been ripped off and is hanging on by the grace of her thigh. I yank my shirt over my head and tie it around her leg, wincing as I tighten it, praying to the other gods that she can’t feel anything right now.

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