Page 146 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“Everyone’s okay,Solf.Don’t put that on yourselves.You couldn’t have known.No one could’ve.”
“Next time,no wandering into dark caves.Not for me or anyone else.”
Despite the pain, Alaire’s lips twitched. “Yeah,right.”
“I mean it.And if you go unconscious again,I will have no issue burning your long locks to wake you up.”
“There’s the Solf I know and love.”
Warmth flowed through the bond.
As she was about to ask more questions, a figure moved into her line of sight. A young woman in earth tones stepped closer, the robes giving her away as a soulwarden. She placed a gentle hand on Alaire’s forehead.
“How do you feel?” she asked, her soft voice soothing.
“Awful,” Alaire rasped, throat raw. Clearing it, she winced at the dryness. “Water?”
Kaia jumped up, reaching for a pitcher on a tray beside the bed. Cool liquid slid down Alaire’s parched throat.
“Easy now,” the soulwarden instructed as Kaia pulled the glass away. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly three days. Your body needs time to recover.”
Three days.Her mind reeled. She’d been out that long? She tried to recall what had happened, but everything after the final bite of the bloodravager scattered like sand in the wind.
“Dawson,” she blurted, her eyes wide. “Is he…”
“Fine,” the soulwarden assured her. “He brought you in himself, declined treatment for his wounds, and refused to leave your side until you were stable. Insisted you be attended to first. You’ve found yourself a devoted one.”
Solace washed over Alaire. She leaned back against the pillows, letting the tension ebb.
“You had several broken ribs and deep claw marks,” the soulwarden continued matter-of-factly. “But it was the punctures on your neck that caused the most trouble. Fortunately, only a small amount of poison remained at thewound site. Had it spread, you wouldn’t have been so lucky. Fortunately for you the poison of a lynk isn’t as potent.”
A lynk?
Her fingers trailed up to her neck where the bloodravager had pierced her, the wound now hidden beneath gauze.
It wasn’t a lynk.She was certain. She’d never forget the stench or their red-rimmed yellow eyes.
Something didn’t add up. She could’ve sworn she’d felt her whole body engulfed in pain—the telltale signs of poison spreading.
Had she imagined it?She pressed a palm to her forehead, trying to steady the spinning.
“Thank you,” Alaire said, grateful.I’ll ask Dawson. The soulwarden must’ve mixed up the names.The last thing I need is for them to think I’m losing it.
“You’re welcome. Get some rest. Your body needs it.” She shot Kaia a pointed look, motioning her toward the door.
“Got it.” Kaia’s cool fingers brushed Alaire’s hair back. “I’ll be back after class with a brush and some updates. Archer sends his best, but they’d only let one of us in. Obviously, I won.” She winked.
Alaire gave her a half smile, eyelids heavy once more. As sleep claimed her, the haunting memory returned: Dawson’s lips against her wound… soothing her.
When she opened her eyes again, the sky was splashed with lilac and pink hues melting into fluorescent orange, bathing the room in brilliant, warm light.
“Good morning.”
Her head turned slowly toward the familiar voice, heart stalling. Shafts of light illuminated the man leaning at the entrance of her cubicle. Hands tucked in his pockets, ankles crossed—every inch of him composed except for the loose onyx strands escaping the tie at the back of his neck, framing the defined angles of his face. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were tight with worry, shadows beneath them suggesting he hadn’t slept.
His gaze locked onto hers, dark and assessing, stripping her down layer by layer.
She should look away, but she couldn’t stop drinking him in, as if he were fresh water after crawling through the desert of Moonstone Beach.
