Page 123 of A Frozen Pyre
Harland waited for a painstaking while before he said, “No. It’s not.”
Her heart sank into her entrails, bobbing around her stomach and leaving her chest cavity dark and vacant. She looked into the hazel eyes that had been with her for so many years. “Are you going to die?”
He held her gaze. With his good hand, he brushed a tear from her face. “Everybody dies.”
“You said a man in the woods was gored by a vageth?”
She watched the ashen color of his face deepen further into whites and grays as he answered. “By Sedit. It seemedhe was drawn to the fire. I wonder if he thought it was you, since your gift is flame.”
Ophir looked at Sedit, but he continued licking his paws.
“Tyr was with him. He instructed us to put out the fire. It was the only thing that calmed your hound.”
It hurt her to think that Sedit had been pulled in by a flame only to feel betrayed that she was not its source. “The man with you—you said he drank three tonics and still perished?”
Harland looked at her grimly. “I don’t know much about your creature, but the bite soured his blood. He drank two, and the third was put directly in the wound. Maybe I’ll be fine. Maybe I’m wrong. But if these are our last moments together, Firi—”
She scrunched her face against a bubbling sob. She tightened her hold on Harland. “Don’t say that. You’re going to be fine. The snowberries—” But she stopped herself. The snowberries had been a lie to get Dwyn out of the cabin. He’d said as much. Even if there was nothing dangerous about Sedit’s bite, Harland had already lost so much blood.
“Let me say what I need to say, please,” Harland asked.
She peered down into his kind face and was transported to drinking wine on the wall, to seducing him in the castle, to being shaken awake when her nightmares had consumed her. He’d suffered blisters, burns, and unmatched pain each time he’d rushed in after her. He’d fired every other guard who’d attempted to keep watch outside her room, trusting no one to do right by her. He’d followed her to Henares, then to Tarkhany, then to Gwydir. And goddess, the man was imperfect, and frustrating, and had made her want to pull out her hair on many occasions, but she knew what love was and what it wasn’t. And she knew that Harland loved her.
“Okay,” came her quivering response.
“I’ve been in love with you since the first day I laid eyes on you,” he said. He smiled as he continued to whisk the tears from her face with a comforting, cupping hand. “But no one deserves you, Ophir. I would never be foolish enoughto think I did, and I know from the bottom of my heart that Dwyn will never be worthy of you. Because you are priceless beyond measure.”
“Harland…”
“I’m almost done,” he said, offering a weak smile. “We have a little time left before Dwyn gives up on her goose chase. We’re going to make a plan, and we’re going to get you out of here. And when you leave, you need to keep a promise to me.”
And perhaps because she knew it was a mortal sin to deny a man his dying wish, through her silver tears, she whispered, “Anything.”
He looked at her sadly before he said, “You need to forgive yourself for all that’s happened. You need to let go of Caris. And you need to find a way to be happy. Because you deserve a full life, Ophir. Lay claim to the world. It’s yours.”
Forty-Five
Tyr held his breath as he watched the cabin door open andclose. Dwyn was alone.
He remained in the place between things, but he didn’t want to risk her hearing his movements as he broke through the crust of the snow. He waited until she disappeared behind the furthest tree trunk in his line of sight before picking his way toward the cabin. Deciding it was best not to give sound the chance to carry should Ophir exclaim in surprise, he opened and shut the door in the quickest of motions as he slipped inside the shelter.
The moment he stepped out from the place between things, it was to shock and horror.
Ophir looked up at him with wide, panicked eyes. “Can you help him?”
It was the only greeting they required. Any explanation, any apology could wait. He knelt beside Harland and examined the bite marks. He tugged on the belt and exhaled. “The tourniquet is perfect,” he said to Ophir. He looked at the vageth. “Sedit did this?”
“Dwyn commanded him to,” she said, voice thick with emotion. She lifted her hand, and he blanched with the horror of understanding. He’d been in the room with her inGwydir when he’d learned of the rings. “She’s wearing its counterpart, but since I put it on first… I’m a prisoner, Tyr.”
He could tell from her unsteady breathing that she’d been crying for a long, long time. In the months he’d known her, he’d never seen her in shambles like this. He dropped her gaze and let his hand hover above the wound. “It’s hot,” he said with a frown.
“What’s that mean?” She swallowed, adjusting her grip around him.
“It’s infected. How long has he been unconscious?”
“He was speaking minutes ago. He was weak but okay.” She began to tap against his cheek with her hand until Harland’s eyes fluttered open. She responded with a quiet, hopeful laugh. “There you are. Hang on, Harland. Tyr is here. We’re going to get out.”
Tyr’s heart ached at the confidence in her words, as if he were the cavalry here to save the day. “Okay,” he said as he slipped an arm behind Harland’s back. “I’ll carry him. Let’s go. We have to hurry. I don’t know how long Dwyn will be out.”
