Page 42 of Beast and Remedy
The gray beast slumps, releasing Bronn.
The black wolf whirls, growling at its dead pack, saliva mixing with blood running down its snout.
Another arrow launches, but Marian’s shot misses its mark.
The wolf snarls, thrashing as another bolt lands in Riker’s body, followed by two more striking the remnants of Alec and Marius. The predator scampers off, leaving disaster in its wake.
I pause at the devastation, a numbness creeping forth and weighing me down. Death surrounds me, making it difficult to breathe as I sheathe my dagger.
Marian rushes and lowers to Bronn’s side, cradling his head as I approach.
He chokes on his own blood, the tearing in his arm and the claw marks in his armor evidence of fatal injuries. Bronn whispers a prayer to the Deities, wishing to enter Salvation rather than Oblivion, and my lip quivers.
Marian grips his hand. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”
“Princess.”
Red liquid runs down the side of his mouth.
Marian’s tear-filled eyes find mine, and I shake my head.
All we can do is comfort him. Even if I could save him, it would do nothing if these wolves were infected. It could already be claiming him from the inside out.
Bronn’s umber-brown curls frame his ebony complexion, his features full of pain and agony.
“Shhhh. It—it’s alright,” Marian soothes.
His gaze drifts to the ripped-to-shreds Riker. And his friends.
Each of their names engrave themselves in my mind.
My legs wobble as I sink to the ground and take Bronn’s other hand, my throat clogging as he chokes again.
“Princess Vivienne.”
“Bronn.” My voice shakes with despair as tears escape. “I-I—” I’m unable to speak my regret and sorrow.
Marian caresses his forehead as her lip trembles through her words. “You saved our lives. We are so proud of you and are so grateful.”
“T-T-Take c-c-care of each other,” Bronn says.
The strained lines of his face relax, his eyes go distant, and the light grip he had on me loosens.
I stifle my sobs as Marian closes his eyes, kissing his brow. My body shakes violently as I drop my head, mourning the loss of our men.
Their blood is thick in the air, and my hands are drenched in it, my failures rising to the surface and wanting to fuel this grief into rage.
Marian’s soft touch tugs at me. “Vi?”
I sniff, rubbing my nose before lifting my head.
But the large black wolf hovers behind Marian, and I scream.
My sister moves for Bronn’s weapon, and I grab my dagger as the predator bares its teeth in a snarl, biting Marian’s forearm.
Marian bellows as I hurl my blade into the creature’s shoulder.
The beast clamps harder on her. Her yelps and attempts to fight the animal are futile.
