Page 61 of Unleashed

Aduun strode up to Vortok and swept Nina from his arms.

Opening his eyes, Vortok bared his teeth and leaned forward. “What are you doing?”

“Protecting our mate,” Aduun said, holding her against his chest. If she’d been jostled, if she feltanything, she made no indication of it.

“You mean to say that I have not?” Vortok demanded. He clenched his fists at his sides, muscles bulging, but his resolve faltered when he swayed again.

“No, Vortok.” Aduun forced his tone to ease despite the worry and panic welling inside him. Nina didn’t want them to fight, and it wouldn’t accomplish anything, especially not now. “You’ve carried her a long way already, and you are injured. There is no shame in allowing me to carry her awhile.”

Vortok grunted and lifted a hand to his head, squeezing his temples between a finger and thumb. “Yes. You’re right, Aduun.”

Balir approached, snow crunching lightly beneath his feet. He had both Nina’s bag and the bag of supplies they’d gathered at the shelter slung over his shoulders, and the snow-crusted fur cloak draped over his arms. “We need to find shelter.”

“We need to help Nina,” Aduun said, glancing down at her. She was limp and unresponsive, her weight feeling more like that of a fresh kill than a living being.

Why wasn’t she moving?

“Remaining here will not help her.” Balir’s voice was strained. The red spots on his neck pulsed. “If we linger too long, either the storm will return or the worm, and we are in no condition to face either.”

Aduun clenched his jaw, biting down on his helplessness. He needed to do something for hernow, needed to wake her upnow; he couldn’t just blindly march forward and hope she’d be okay.

“She was guiding us, Aduun. You and Vortok saw where she pointed. Lead us in that direction.”

“She was leading us to the mountains, over there.” Vortok turned and raised a trembling hand to indicate the dark gray rocks rising out of the snow directly ahead. They were close, now; a little farther, and she would’ve made it unharmed. A little faster, and she’d be okay now.

“And when we get there? She cannot climb in this state,” Aduun said.

“But there is a stronger chance we will find shelter there,” Balir replied firmly. “And once we do, we can better tend to her.”

Aduun’s chest and throat constricted. “She needs tendingnow.”

Balir turned to him and stepped forward, his features tight. “If we are caught out here, she will die.”

“Do not say such things,” Aduun snarled, clutching Nina tighter.

“Nowyouwill hold it against me for speaking the hard truth?” Balir demanded, baring his sharp teeth. Blood was smeared over his face, on his hands, his chest. “Her heart is so weak I can barely hear it, Aduun! Do you think I am not aware of the situation? Do you think I am not falling to pieces? She is close to death, and I can still smell blood on all of us, still crave it, when all I should be thinking of isher. Nina will die out here if we don’t move forward, find as secure a place as we can, and tend to her.”

Shame and frustration heated Aduun’s skin. He pressed his lips tight. Nina did not need three raging beasts right now; she needed three men, clear of thought, who would do what it took to keep her safe, to nurse her back to health.

“She removed the spine quickly, and I sucked out as much venom as I could,” Vortok said. “She is strong. She will fight it.”

Aduun dropped his gaze to her again and nodded. Without another word, he walked toward the mountainside.

Chapter Thirteen

Balir walked in front of the others as they moved along the cliff face. Fortunately, he was upwind of them, which meant he only had to smell the faint blood scent clinging to his own body after he’d scrubbed his skin with handfuls of snow. He bent his willpower toward focusing on sound — the way it bounced off the nearby stone, the way it echoed across the valley, the way the snow seemed to dampen it. Letting his thoughts wander beyond that would be dangerous.

His beast wanted blood. Its hunger had been awakened by the fight with the worm, and he knew no amount of food would sate its appetite. It wanted to kill, to feast, to gorge itself without restriction. Only time and immense effort toward obtaining calm would silence its ravenous calls, and the latter wasn’t likely to occur while he was worried for Nina’s wellbeing.

The soft crunch of snow beneath his feet filled the time between his heart beats, which remained discouragingly long. This was too close to how she’d been when they were first trapped in the snowstorm — but at least she’d been responsive then.

He turned his head slightly and slowed his steps; there was a change in the sound reflection from up ahead, more significant than the small recesses that ran through the entire cliffside. He walked toward the source of the change, moving a little farther from the stone to allow himself a better angle to hear.

The echo was a familiar one; he’d heard it for a thousand years of captivity. Sound took on a certain quality when it bounced between walls of rock.

Balir stopped at the mouth of the cave and listened as his clicks moved along its length, mingling with the hollow, breathy sound of air flowing inside. That brush of moving air on his face spoke of an opening elsewhere, beyond his perception.

The cave was deep, if nothing else, and would provide some protection from the intensifying cold once night fell.

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