Page 49 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

A blade pricked my chin before I could blink. “I’m a warrior. I know what I’m doing. I survived a long time before you came along, and I’ll survive long after.”

I gave a shallow nod in acceptance of her words and she sheathed the blade.

The harsh truth of her words sliced me deeper than a stiletto.

“You are right,” I said.

She glanced up at me with confusion marring her brow, then nodded. I did not mean for my voice to be gruff, but the reminder of our situations made my chest clench, as much as I tried to ignore it.

She stuck her head around the corner, and I gritted my teeth to keep from reaching out again. “Two rooftops over. Single archer.”

She pulled out her spit wad device that she used to consistently poison me. My feet stepped back without the consent of my brain. Wolfsbane was painful, regardless of the resistance I had built.

Alia did not glance at me. She loaded the end with a suspicious-looking ball of haze. She blew on one end and the orb popped out the other side.

“What is a little spit wad?—”

A tiny explosion made my brows raise. Smoke rose from where it impacted the cobblestones, providing a screen for us.

“Care to lead through what my little spit wad can do, your majesty?” she said with a low bow and flourish.

I huffed and walked around the corner, trying not to sneeze and give away our position. It smelled of garlic breath. I liked garlic, just not after it had been ingested.

Alia trotted at my heels. “We need to get those arrows out,” she said.

“They will need to be cut out.”

“Why—oh,” she said, realizing that my skin would have healed around them. “Then let me cut them out, at least. You look like a very sad porcupine.”

I hid a smile. “Fine.”

We found an out-of-the-way alcove where I could still watch the road leading to where we came from. Road may have been a bit of a stretch. It was a back alley barely large enough for two horses abreast and stank of refuse thrown from the stories above.

She quickly snapped the arrows just above the skin, her fingers sure yet gentle. “Are you sure I can’t take them out? I’ll be quick.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Her big blue eyes danced with compassion in the moonlight, causing them to light with hints ofsilver and burnt bronze. The two arrowheads were burning the muscles beneath my skin. I worried?—

“I’ll be fast,” she repeated. Her breath washed over me, smelling of peppermint and lilac and a bit of yeasty bread. I glanced away. With her eyes so imploring, there was no way I could say no.

I gave a curt nod.

She was as good as her word. Two quick slices on either side of the broad heads and they were out with tiny slurps.

“Done that before, have you?” I said, rolling my shoulders as the skin itched while piecing itself back together. Warm blood dribbled down my back, caught by my dark tunic where Alia had not sliced through it to get at the arrows.

“Perhaps,” Alia said almost absentmindedly, slathering an ointment on the wounds which dulled the pinching pain while it finished healing. I glanced back to see her eyes concentrated on the wounds, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Stay still, you’re reopening the wounds,” she said, tossing a glare up at me.

I turned back around.

“We need to go,” I said.

“But you aren’t healed?—”

“They will heal. We have a mission.”

She packed her satchel.

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