Page 88 of Of Blood and Banes
Fuck, how did I forget about Darian?I funnel my strength into lifting myself up out of Cole’s arms.
Cole scans me, his hands on my waist and bracing me as I rise. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I have to get to him.”
“You’ll get there faster if you let me carry you.”
I slide my gaze to Sethan who begins to direct the dragon riders and returning civilians into groups. Then to Daeja, who nods.
“Don’t be prideful,” he whispers so only I can hear. “Just let me help you.”
I nod, and he sweeps me up into his arms. Corvin leads us back through the streets torn up by dragonfire, the smoke stinging my eyes and nose. Several buildings we pass are a blur of smoking rubble.
Oh Gods, did my room catch fire?
Once we turn a corner and find the building is still standing, I pat Cole’s chest, requesting he let me down. As I stand on shaking legs before the structure, I notice half of it is dusted in black. I stumble for the door handle and burst into the room.
A fresh waft of smoke overtakes me, and I cough, waving it away from my face and leaving the door open for it to escape. As the black cloud dissipates, my gaze falls to Darian’s body on the floor. Something I can’t quite pinpoint crumples inside of me, growing cold and tight.
I should have trusted him. Had I listened to him and let him go, he would have lived.
He died onmywatch.
I race across the room and sweep his limp body up into my lap before fishing out the key to his shackles from my brassiere. Darian’s chest rises with a wheezy, tight shake before falling again and stilling. I brush a hand over the soot staining his cheek, waiting for his eyes to open. Steps sound at the door behind me.
Corvin whispers at the door frame, “I’m so sorry.”
Cole brushes past him into the room and crouches down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I can carry him to Marge. She…she might be able to do something?”
“He won’t survive—not after sitting in smoke for that long,” Corvin interjects softly.
“I have to try…he can’t die. Not yet…” I murmur, watching his face like he might wake.But if Marge isn’t able to save him…the seconds tick by, heightening my sense of panic. “Leave,” I grit out through my overwhelming guilt.
Corvin whispers, “But, ma’am?—”
I turn to glare at him over my shoulder. “I said leave.”
With a flustered nod, he bows his head and disappears, leaving the door still parted a few inches.
Cole brushes a thumb over my shoulder, staring at me and waiting to look his way. “Tell Daeja to alert A’nala that we need Marge, and Sethan can send her.”
“No.” I finally turn to face him. “I need you to go, too.”
He flinches, pain sparking his pinched brows.
“I need a moment alone with him,” I whisper. Because I can’t tell him what I’m about to do. He might not agree with it—he might stop me. And witnessing it will crush him.
But rather than pushing against my wishes, his face falls and he stands. Squeezing my shoulder once more, he slips out the door. I swear I can hear his heart breaking at the thought I’d need a moment alone with Darian. Like hemeanssomething to me.
Pushing away my guilt, I look down at Darian in my lap. His skin is abnormally pale, drawn tight over his angled features. The only hint of color is the dark circles splotched under his eyes. He takes a wheezing, shaky inhale that gets stuck at the peak and releases it slowly, until he falls silent. Seconds tick by, and my skin prickles. He has to be breaths away from death now, based on his appearance alone.
“Darian?” I whisper and tap his cheek gently, like it’ll force him to open his eyes and tell me he’s only faking it. Like this is just another ridiculous stunt to escape. But he doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even flinch.
I press two fingers against the side of his scratchy stubbled neck and shift them every few seconds across his throat, searching for a pulse?—
Thump…thump.There it is. Weak and brittle. Slowing by the second.
“Darian, I need you to get up.”
