Page 52 of A Kiss of Embers
A noise gurgled from Ashryn’s throat, something between a distressed cry and a warning scream. But Seraphina grabbed onto the woman’s chin and gazed into her eyes. Still unfocused. Her flushed skin was also feverish. And her wound…
As if realizing she wouldn’t hurt her, or perhaps because she couldn’t fight back, Ashryn didn’t stop her as she unwound the bandage covering her torso.
She hissed.
Pus filled the stitched-up wound, the poison still festering within the woman’s body. A white substance surrounded the injury, and she recognized it as an antidote to several other Ember Fae poisons. But…
“Bastien, you idiot,” she murmured with far too much endearment clinging to her voice for the man who had stolen every inch of her heart. “You told me you knew the antidote. This is not the antidote.”
Another gurgled cry left the woman’s lips as she pulled out a knife from her belt, but this one wasn’t tipped in poison. “Hold still,” she ordered when Ashryn attempted to squirm away. “Unless you want a bigger gash than the one you have.”
Ashryn ceased moving, and Seraphina leaned closer, holding the skin steady and ignoring her pained grunts as she cut each stitch one by one. Blood and pus oozed out of the wound, and she took a moment to wipe everything clean with a cloth, including the white serum.
Reaching into a leather pouch attached to her belt, she pulled out a vial filled with thick, orange liquid and pulled out the cork with her teeth.
“This is going to burn,” she warned. “Breathe in and hold it.” She poured half of the vial’s contents into the belly wound, and the moment it made contact with the inside flesh, Ashryn gasped in pain, followed by a sob. But otherwise, the woman remained stoic in the face of the elixir’s healing effects.
The remaining half of the elixir still swirled within the vial. She lifted it to Ashryn’s lips, and instead of rejecting it, she swallowed the rest of its contents.
Agonized tears trailed from Ashryn’s eyes as the antidote worked through her body. But after a few minutes, she began breathing easier, and the tears ceased flowing.
“There you go,” Seraphina whispered reassuringly. She dipped a cloth into a bowl of water on the floor, wrung it out, and placed it against the other woman’s forehead. “I wasn’t sure if Bastien would have treated your wound correctly, but…I brought my supplies just in case.”
She uncorked another vial of clear liquid, tipped it over a cloth, and dabbed at the wound. Ashryn hissed between her teeth but soon relaxed as the pain settled as the numbing took effect.
Wasting no time, Seraphina threaded a needle and began meticulously tying new stitches. Of course, the injury would scar. But perhaps not quite so much with careful stitches.
“Why are you doing this?” Ashryn asked after a few minutes, exhaustion in her voice.
“Ha.” She shook her head wryly as she continued her administration. “Do you know how often Bastien spoke of you? I first thought him besotted. But no. I’ve never witnessed a friendship like yours.” She swore under her breath when she cut one of the threads too short and had to start over. “When will Bastien return?”
“Soon. He will be happy to see you.”
Again, she shook her head. “No, he won’t. I’m going to have to hide somewhere in Attleglade until I can find a good way to approach him. He’s livid. I’m afraid he will take drastic actions to save your life.”
“But…you already did.”
She lifted her head to find Ashryn gazing at her curiously. “He doesn’t know that. And I hope you won’t tell him. Not yet, at least.”
This time, she cut the thread to the perfect length and tied off the last stitch.
“You still never answered me,” Ashryn said slowly. “Why are you doing this? For me? Or for him? I killed your sister.”
Seraphina covered the wound with a bandage, wrapped it several times around her waist, and tied it in a gentle knot away from the injury. “Pri will live. And I’m sure not doing it for you. Who threatens achildat knifepoint?”
Ashryn lowered her gaze. “Those desperate to see their friend alive and unharmed.”
“Oh, I assure you,” she chuckled humorlessly, “Bastien was quite content with me. But it’s over and done with. Pri is fine. You will live. Bastien will forgive me? I have no idea. I came back for him. And I’m not leaving until he agrees to come with me.”
“Where?”
She sat back on her ankles as she packed up her things as quickly as possible. “Home.”
“This is his home.”
She tipped her head and stared at her pointedly. “It sounds more like he’s a prisoner here. He deserves to live his life to the absolute fullest, nothing and no one holding him back.”
Down below, the front door opened and closed, followed by a creak on the stairs in the same place she’d stepped earlier. In a desperate attempt to hide, she touched the sconces on the walls, and the crystal light flickered out, giving way to darkness.
