Page 49 of Tempest Rising

His dark eyes locked onto mine, unyielding as the stone his kind could shift into. "Sit," he repeated, and this time there was no room for argument.

I sank onto a fallen log before I could think better of it, muttering under my breath. My shoulder throbbed, the sharp sting of the injury making it impossible to ignore. Kane crouched in front of me, his pale blue-violet eyes sharp and assessing as they studied the torn fabric of my shirt.

"This needs to be cleaned," Kane said, his tone brisk but measured. "I can help."

I hesitated, glancing at the others. Mason, standing a few feet away, shifted his weight, his dark eyes flickering with worry and frustration. "We can't just leave it like that," he said, his voice low but firm.

"But we're not supposed to use magic," I countered, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "The challenge specifically said—"

"To hell with the challenge," Mason interrupted, his jaw tightening. "It's your health, Tess. That's more important than some arbitrary rule."

Kane pulled out a water bottle from his pack and tore a strip of cloth from his shirt. With a subtle gesture, his magic shimmered over the fabric, purifying it. "I'll only use magic to clean the bandage," he said evenly. "You're bleeding, and ignoring it is not an option."

Mason stepped closer, his broad frame casting a protective shadow over me. "We'll deal with whatever comes," he said, his voice quieter now but no less determined. "You're not doing this alone."

Their insistence broke through my resistance, and I let out a slow, shaky breath. They were right. Stubbornness wouldn't get me anywhere, and I had to trust them—trust that they wouldn't let me fall.

"Alright," I said at last, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do it."

Kane nodded, wasting no time. He carefully poured water from the bottle over my wound, washing away the dirt and blood. The cool liquid stung as it touched the raw edges, but it was oddly soothing. He worked with quiet efficiency, making sure the wound was thoroughly clean.

Once finished, Kane's gaze flicked to Mason. "It's ready."

Mason nodded, taking the magically cleaned strip of cloth from Kane. His hands were steady but gentle as he pressed the fabric against my shoulder, tying it securely to stem any further bleeding. His warmth and care were a stark contrast to hisimposing size, and I felt a wave of gratitude I couldn't quite put into words.

"There," Mason said, stepping back to survey his handiwork. "That should hold for now."

I flexed my shoulder experimentally, relief flooding through me as the pain dulled to a manageable throb. “Thank you,” I said softly, looking between the two of them. Their concern—and their willingness to act despite the risks—wasn’t lost on me.

“Just don’t make a habit of getting hurt,” Kane replied, brushing off his hands as he stood. His tone was neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—respect, maybe? Understanding? Whatever it was, it made the knot in my chest loosen.

Mason glanced at me, his expression softening. “Next time, don’t try to push through it on your own. We’ve got you.”

Before I could respond, a voice interrupted from behind us. “Bleeding heart, both of you,” Raze drawled as he sauntered over, his grin sharp. “Gets me right in the feels every time.”

Kane didn’t respond, but the faintest twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. Mason, however, was less entertained. His gaze darkened as he turned to Raze, his voice a low growl. “Maybe don’t take this so lightly. That fall could’ve killed her.”

“Relax, big guy,” Raze said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “She’s fine. You saw Kane. She’s patched up and good as new.”

“She’s not fine,” Mason snapped, his voice rising slightly. “She—”

“I’m right here, you know,” I cut in, crossing my arms despite the lingering ache in my shoulder. “And I’m fine. Really.”

Kane’s gaze shifted sharply to me. “Fine is relative. That fall was dangerous.” His tone was clipped, but there was a flicker of something else there—concern, perhaps. “And there’s something off about the bear too. It wasn't acting naturally.”

“Yeah,” I said, brushing some dirt off my arm. “It’s like it was... wrong. The bear’s movements were erratic.”

“It had been bespelled,” Mason said, smoothing a hand over his jaw. He spoke with quiet certainty. “Likely a vampire. The bloodlust was too specific.”

“Valen,” Kane said immediately, his voice cold as ice. “It’s his kind of game.”

Raze scowled, running a hand through his spiky hair. “Great. That asshole gives vampires everywhere a bad name, not that it’s a high bar to begin with.”

"We'll need to keep a sharper watch," Mason said, his gaze meeting Kane's briefly before sweeping over the rest of us. "Stay alert. If it's Valen, there'll be more traps. He doesn't just 'play.' He escalates."

Everyone nodded, grim agreement settling across the group. It wasn't the most comforting thought, but at least we were all on the same page.

"How far are we from the guild?" I asked, glancing at Kane. He closed his eyes, a faint shimmer of elemental magic dancing around him as he reached out with his powers.

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