Page 81 of Bound By Darkness

He wasn’t breathing.

There was no rise and fall to his chest. I couldn’t?—

“He’s fine, half-breed.” Ivan gripped my elbows tightly as he shifted between us.

My eyes widened, panic setting in as I twisted to look around his broad frame. “He’s not—” My voice came out raspy like the gravel we’d traveledupon. I swallowed, the words hard to form. “Breathing,” I exclaimed, tears welling in my eyes.

I had killed another person, making my death toll the equivalent of a small gathering.

Ivan’s grip on my elbows tightened as he shook me gently, drawing my attention to silver. “He’s fine. The surgery went well, but he’s resting, as should you.”

Silver ebbed and flowed, stilling my heart and bones to listen. Warmth seeped from his hands as I released a shaky puff of air, my eyes refusing to linger from something so solid, so reassuring.

Ivan’s grip loosened as he slid an arm behind my back, supporting my weight as he brought me closer. He moved back the thick sheets concealing Fin’s chest.

There—the constant rise and fall.

A muffled sob escaped my lips as my legs lost their strength. He was there, his support a solid wall I needed as he tugged me close. I hadn’t killed another person. I’d managed to keep him safe. No one else had died because of me.

“It’s okay,” Ivan whispered, his arms locking me against him.

Even though he didn’t say it, some part of him knew why my tears fell. It wasn’t only the relief that Fin was okay, but also the knowledge no one else suffered because I lived.

He held me tighter as I wept, his blue shirt growing damp against his chest. He shielded me from the patients and medics, tucking his arms around me in a gentle hug. He didn’t reply, didn’t complain as tears turned into sobs. The occasional rub against my back and hair let me know he lingered.

For the first time, I didn’t care if he kidnapped me. I didn’t care if he was why I was separated from Moria. I didn’t care he was a Fae prick.

I needed him.

Something real. Something tangible I could reach and hold onto because he understood my pain. Understood the cracks of my heart as his scent coaxed my bones to cease their wailing, my body fully giving into him.

My face grew green at the amount of tonics Aline shoved down my throat. I had learned her name quickly from the frequent visits, her cold hands poking and prodding my skin.

It wasn’t until half a day’s cycle she cleared me well enough to leave with a pack of tonics labeled for me to take periodically.

The tonics rattled against one another as I headed through the town square, frankly deserted from the attack. Another surprise I had awoken to.

The rebels had laid waste to the once glorious city. The city my father loved so much. It shattered something deep within me, knowing I’d never experience what he did. The one thing remaining of him ceased to exist: a pile of shattered glass and stone.

A few citizens tipped their heads low in greeting as I mulled over the paved streets. Missing stones left craters in the pavement as I maneuvered around them.

The tonics clinked loudly as I jumped over a fallen beam. The wreckage continued to pile despite the town’s efforts, enough they would be restructuring the city for at least three complete moon cycles, if not longer.

Adjusting the pouch, I quickly walked through the town square, stopping at the tent near the makeshift gardens. The once plentiful food supply had been reduced to a few rows of hearty vegetables.

The tent flap fluttered as I shut the debris and heartache behind me.

Ivan fiddled with a cot, the legs retracting and folding at odd angles. Curses spewed from his mouth as the legs folded inward, pinching his thumb.

Laughter erupted as I set the bag against a tent wall, arms crossing over my chest. It was unusual for him to be so flustered, especially for something trivial like a malfunctioning cot.

Ivan whipped his head around, his narrowed eyes widening. He scrambled to his feet, his teeth running over his pinched thumb. “I didn’t expect you here.”

“Need a hand?”

Ivan’s arms crossed over his chest with what little pride he had remaining. “It’s broken, but give it a try.”

Flipping the cot over, I ran my hands over the metal legs, clicking each knob and button into place. Once sturdy, I pulled inward, snapping metal against the fabric. Turning it upright, I sat, a smug smile tugging at the corners as it held firm. “Broken indeed.”

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