Page 221 of The Black Witch

Perhaps sensing the shift, Yvan’s touch becomes tentative andfeatherlight. He slides his hands away and pulls back. As I blink up at him,Yvan’s serious expression wavers and becomes momentarily boyish and unsure. Heglances at my leg then quickly away.

I sit up, surprised that the room isn’t spinning. My skirts arepushed up to the top of my thigh, only a faint, pink scar where the gaping woundwas. I stare at my leg, amazed, the blood on the cave floor and Yvan’s hands andforearms proof that I’ve not dreamed this.

Yvan goes next to Rhys, who’s slumped against a wall. His tunicis being cut off with a small knife by Cael. Rhys’s upper torso is crisscrossedwith bloody gashes, one ivory sleeve soaked with blood, the arm beneath hangingat an odd angle.

Ariel is bent over the unconscious dragon, lining up her tornwing. Wynter’s hands rest gently on the beast’s side. Naga’s chest rises andfalls in weak breaths, smoke periodically sputtering out of her nostrils andspiraling white toward the cave’s ceiling. Andras kneels down beside the dragonand begins to straighten out her bent leg.

Ariel leaps up and grabs roughly at his shoulder. “Get awayfrom her!” she snarls at him. “She’s not ahorse!You have to line up the greater tarsal bone with the lesser tarsal bone or itwill fuseall wrong!”

Andras pulls his hands away from Naga’s leg and lifts them,palms up, in surrender as Ariel glares at him murderously.

Wynter gently places her hand on Ariel’s arm. After a momentAriel’s manic look recedes. She sits back down, focusing in on Naga’s wing, andsets back to work with nimble fingers, cursing to herself as she works.

“Where’s Diana? And Jarod?” I ask, my eyes darting around thecave and quickly lighting on the Lupine twins’ clothing, piled up against onewall.

“They’re out in wolf form,” Trystan assures me. “Standingguard.”

Alive. All of us, miraculously still alive.

Rafe is slumped down near Rhys, holding on to his own arm, astrained expression on his face, as if he’s gritting his teeth.

I pull down my skirts and cautiously rise with Trystan’ssupport, holding tight on to his arm as I wiggle the toes of my left leg, scaredto put weight on it. Screwing up my courage, I bear down on the leg, amazed tofind it flush with more energy and strength than the other.

“Rafe,” I call out. “Are you okay?”

Rafe smiles, his head slumped to one side. “Oh, I’ve beenbetter.” He looks to my healed leg with obvious relief, then glances over atYvan who’s laying his fingers over Rhys’s gashes one by one. “But I suspect Yvanhere could reattach our heads if he had to, so I’m feeling hopeful.”

Yvan’s eyes flash at Rafe.

We all know you’re Fire Fae, I wantto tell Yvan.Stop the charade.

“Can you heal Naga?” I ask Yvan bluntly.

Yvan hesitates, his jaw tensing as he holds on to Rhys’swounded arm. “No,” he finally says, guarded. “Not when she’s in this form. Andshe isn’t able to shift to human form.”

Rafe’s eyes widen, along with my own. “She’s a shifter?” Rafeasks with surprise.

Yvan gives a tight shake of his head. “The Gardnerians usegeomancy to bind their ability to shift.”

I stare at him, amazed. “Are you saying that all of ourmilitary dragons...are wyvern-shifters?”

Yvan meets my stare head-on. “They were.”

I try to wrap my mind around this—there’s a human form boundsomewhere inside Naga, unable to get out.

Tierney leans against the cave wall, stoic and unhurt. She’slooking at Yvan, her jaw set forward, her gaze full of concern andsolidarity.

Two Fae. The both of them. Water andFire.

Cael stands and begins to grab up his weapons and secure themone by one.

An Elfin bow and arrows. Knives.

In case they come for us.

The terrible reality of our situation seeps in. “We’vedestroyed a Gardnerian military base,” I state flatly, not quite believing thewords.

Everyone turns to look at me, the gravity of what we’ve done,and the extreme danger we’ve placed ourselves in, stark in everyone’s eyes.

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