Page 46 of Scorched By Fate

“You’re hurt,” he rumbled at me. His voice was low, tension radiating from every fiber of his frame.

“I’m fine. Bruised, maybe,” I said quickly, brushing dust from my scratched forearms. I was too focused on Reika to think about my own pain.

When the silence stretched too long, I sighed, folding my arms across my chest to mask my wobbling exhaustion. “Seriously, Vyne. It’s nothing.”

“You’ve seen better days,” he growled softly, moving closer with talon-scraping steps over the rock. His chin tipped down, eyes locking onto mine.

Reika hissed in a sharp breath and started to judder with fear. Her breaths came in fast. She was hyperventilating now.

If I couldn’t calm her down, I had no idea what to do. We couldn’t just leave her there.

“He’s different from them. Trust me. I wouldn’t bring a threat near you.”

Her lips quivered, every line in her face clinging to disbelief like it was the only thing between her and oblivion. “You don’t know,” she whispered, broken and terrified. “You don’t understand.”

“Maybe not,” I said softly, still holding her gaze. "Look at me, Reika. I know enough to bet my life on him. I need you to trust me, just for now. Believe me when I say you’re safe with us.”

Her breathing continued to hitch, but the trembling slowed a little, her muscles inching closer to unfrozen. She shuddered—not entirely convinced, but no longer drowning in pure terror.

“We need to leave,” Vyne said. His eyes swept over both of us, lingering on Reika just a beat longer before cutting back to me. “More are coming. They’ll smell their fallen before long, and when they do, they won’t come alone.”

I looked at Reika, her fragile state etched in the tight cords of her trembling frame. She’d stopped trying to crawl away, but her fear still radiated like heat, coiling tense and unrelenting. She wouldn’t make it far on her own, and carrying her across the ridges would slow all three of us to a death sentence.

I didn’t allow my focus to linger long before shifting it to Vyne. His massive wings, even folded tightly against his back, couldn’t hide the damage stretching from the nasty tear along the edge. Blood seeped out with each twitch of his movements, though he held himself upright, impassive. His strength was undeniable—but strength had its limits, and his were closer than he let on.

He was hurting. She was barely holding on. And all I could do was try to hold the weight of that in both hands without anyone slipping through.

“We need speed,” Vyne said, bracing one shoulder against the rock as though the admission itself irritated him. “I can fly her ahead. There’s a second ridge farther west—secluded enough to lose the Ignarath if we move quickly. She’ll be safer there.”

“No,” Reika rasped, cutting him off violently before I could answer. Her voice cracked on the word, panic rising sharp as claws, latching onto any semblance of control she thought she could salvage. “No. You can’t—you can’t let him take me.”

Her breath grew rough again, and she pressed herself harder into the rock, trembling visible anew. “He’s just like them. I can’t— I won’t—” Her words stuttered, and she started shaking again.

“Reika,” I interrupted, kneeling down and catching her frantic gaze before the spiral could fully consume her again. “Reika, listen to me. He’s not like them. I need you to hear me.”

She shook her head so hard I feared she might hurt her neck, her wide-eyed panic driving her further into denial. “You don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand.” My voice stayed firm—unshaking, despite exhaustion pressing cracks into my resolve. “Tell me what happened.”

Her body jolted at the words, her gasp rough and staccato, but she stopped moving. Her trembling didn’t vanish, but she stared at me now, not through me. Something in her wild gaze softened—or at least tolerated the possibility that my words weren’t a trap.

I exhaled, gesturing between the three of us. “We don’t have options right now. We can't win if more come. So, here’s the question: are you willing to get out of here alive, or do you want to face the Ignarath again?”

She didn’t answer. Her lips pressed thin and pale, punctuated with blood pricking at the cracks. Her eyes tipped downward—not toward rocky escape paths, not back toward Vyne.

After what felt like minutes compressed into seconds, she nodded—the smallest, reluctant tilt of her head. "No flying," she insisted.

I swallowed hard against the surge of frustration. Turning, I met Vyne’s gaze. “We have to walk,” I said, my tone final. “You need to rest your wing.”

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he muttered, more to himself than me. But he didn’t argue. That told me how much his wing had to be hurting.

He took a careful step back, giving Reika space to breathe even as his presence still filled the ridge's confined air. And with that same controlled precision, he angled closer to me, his body a fortress of heat and vigilance.

“She won’t keep pace long,” he warned, though his tone had softened by now. “If her strength fails?—”

“It won’t,” I said, cutting him off. The conviction in my voice tasted stubborn even to myself. “We’ll figure it out.”

I turned back toward Reika and extended a hand once more. She hesitated just a fraction before gripping it shakily and standing.

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