Page 74 of A Rebel's Shot

He forced his eyes open, blinking against the dust motes dancing in the weak sunlight filtering through the trees.

Merritt’s face swam into view, her skin pale with terror.

“I… yeah.” His voice sounded raspy, unfamiliar.

He tried to push himself upright, but a wave of dizziness slammed into him, forcing him back against the boulder. Black spots danced in his vision, and he sucked in a sharp breath, stifling a groan as pain lanced through his ribs.

“Don’t move.” Merritt’s hands fluttered over him, her touch surprisingly strong as she pressed him back against the rock. “You’re hurt.”

He tried to tell her he was fine, more worried about the fear tightening her voice and the tremor in her hands. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Just stay still,” she ordered, her voice firm despite the shake in it. “I’ve got you.”

His body screamed in protest as he pushed himself upright, Merritt’s hand a steadying presence on his arm. Each breath sent a searing pain through his ribs, and he hoped they were just bruised and not broken.

“We need to get up to the ridge,” he gasped out between breaths, his voice raspy.

Merritt’s eyes, wide and dark, searched his.

“I… Okay.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders with a determined set to her jaw that twisted something hot and tight in his chest.

He loved that she didn’t back down, didn’t question him, even though he knew she must be terrified.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, ignoring the way his voice cracked with pain. “One step at a time.”

His knee throbbed, his side burned, his ribs felt like they were grinding together with every movement, but he forced himself onward. Upward. Toward the sliver of blue sky that beckoned between the trees.

Each step was agony, each breath a struggle. He lost track of time. The forest became a blur of green and brown, the air thick and heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth.

Just as he thought he could go no farther, the trees thinned. He broke free of the forest, sucking in a lungful of cool, clean air that made him dizzy.

He stood on the edge of the world.

Below him, the river wound its way through the valley floor, a silver ribbon reflecting the endless expanse of sky. To the north, a sea of peaks stretched toward the horizon, their snow-capped summits gleaming in the afternoon sun. And above it all, an impossibly blue sky, limitless and indifferent to their plight.

His gut climbed into his chest. The enormity of their situation slammed into him like a physical blow. They were nothing but specks in this unrelenting landscape.

“We made it.” Merritt’s soft words floated with the wind that whipped across the ridgeline.

“Yeah,” he said, surprised he could force out the word.

His voice sounded hoarse, strained. His jaw was tightly clenched and he forced himself to relax.

They were miles from civilization, days, maybe weeks from rescue, if it came at all.

And he was responsible for her being out there.

If he had listened to his gut about not flying and waiting the storm out, they wouldn’t be stuck. Sure, they wouldn’t know about her uncle’s plot, but Tiikâan had vowed to keep her safe.

And he’d failed.

A wave of exhaustion, heavy and relentless, washed over him, making him sway on his feet.

A soft gasp escaped Merritt as she stumbled back from the cliff edge, her eyes wide with alarm. “Whoa! That’s a long way down.”

Her light tone did nothing to ease the knot of fear tightening in Tiikâan’s chest. He’d been so focused on the impossible task of traversing it with a bum knee and battered ribs that he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Be careful.” The words came out sharper than he’d intended, fueled by the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

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