Page 137 of Elas

“I could eat!” Lillith says, smacking my arm with so much force it knocks me back a step. Fucking hells.

Bhotans.

I hand them each an MRE and take one for myself. August and Xeni talk in a low murmur around the front of the SUV, and I squeeze my fist when August whimpers. “It’s alright,” Xeni soothes, “the bullet is out now. I can’tsay the alcohol will feel very nice, though. Stitches are going to suck, too, if I’m being honest.” I clench my jaw as I force myself not to storm over and rip August away from him.

My throat is tight as I eat. It’s a mixture of dehydration, starvation and the undying need to comfort August as Xeni treats him. I finish my meal and eyeball the rest of them, resisting the urge to devour everything in sight. It’ll hurt later if I reintroduce food too quickly, so I settle for drinking more water instead. Eventually, I can’t fight my instinct any longer.

August lies on a towel, shirt off and arms behind his head, while Xeni kneels beside him. Long, elegant pale fingers are splayed over August’s stomach, holding him still while the other hand confidently weaves a needle between the sides of his separated skin. Jealousy hits me in a rabid punch, so intense I shake with the need to throw Xeni off him and replace his hand with mine.

August’s eyes find mine and he smiles again, this one strained as the needle pierces his skin. “Almost done,” he says softly.

“Don’t talk,” Xeni snaps, and my fists clench even tighter. I kneel beside August and he slides his fingers through mine. It calms my beast, if only slightly.

“We did it,” August whispers, ignoring the glare from Xeni. “Do you think the other prisoners made it out?”

“I think we gave them the best chance they could ask for, given the situation,” I answer, and he puffs out a long breath as he nods.

“All done,” Xeni says, snipping the thread after he’s tied the last stitch. He cleans the area again and places cleangauze from August’s medical kit over the wound before wrapping it with a strip of cut cloth.

“Thank you, Xeni,” August says, and the two meet eyes. “For what it’s worth, I never believed you had betrayed us.”

Xeni snorts, glancing away. “Sure you didn’t.”

“I didn’t!” August argues, sitting up and pulling his shirt on. “Why do you act like you aren’t a good guy?”

Xeni’s white eye flickers back to August’s again. “Because people get hurt around me, August. You’re living proof of that.”

“But—”

“I’m going to eat.” Xeni stands abruptly, dusting off his knees. “Keep that clean,” he adds, like August needs to be told. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he walks away.

“Want me to bring you some food?” I ask, and August nods with a worried smile, still staring after Xeni. “Don’t worry about him. If he wants to be hated, let him keep being a dick.”

“You don’t hate him, El,” he chastises softly.

“He wanted you for himself.” I glare at the pale, wiry monster as he eats with his back to us.

“Even if that was the case at one time, it isn’t anymore. He isn’t a threat to you, Elas. No one is.” I sigh, crossing and uncrossing my arms. “He’s lonely.”

“Well, he can be lonely by himself.” August huffs a laugh, and some of my tension fades at the sound. “Let me get you something to eat… you’ve got to be hungry.”

“I am… thank you,” August says. Xeni avoids my eyes as I grab an MRE from the quickly depleting stack. We didn’t bring a surplus of food for the trip, but we’ll be fine for the rest of the drive. It’s not like we’re accustomed to regular meals. My eyes fall onto pale hair that shines in the moonlight.

Not most of us, in any case.

After August eats, we pile into the SUV, more refreshed. I drive, with the promise I’ll pull over immediately if I get tired, and August climbs in beside me. Color is returning to his cheeks after being stitched up and fed, and my energy is slowly rebuilding. For the first time since we left the village, the voice in the back of my mind has changed its tune.

It’s quiet, damn near silent, but the words are crystal clear.

It’s all going to be alright.

Home never looked so sweet.

My eyes are heavy, despite my promise to tell August if I got tired. There’s no way I’ll let Xeni be the one to bring us home. I even offered thevery reasonablesuggestion that we tie a bag over his head for the last hour of the drive, but was outvoted.

Don’t know when this became a democracy, but I’m not fucking happy about it.

Our food supplies ran out hours ago, and our water is running low, so the forest on the horizon is a welcomesight. The mood has been getting lighter as we put more and more distance between us and Ljómur, but a silence falls among the group that feels almost reverent.

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