Page 189 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Alaire reached for her—then the world crashed down, sealing the entrance in stone.
They barely made it inside before the mountain buried everything behind them.
Forty-Three
The cave shuddered with the force of the landslide. Solflara slumped against the wall, her feathers dimming to faint embers. “It’ll hold,” she rasped.
Alaire’s knees buckled. She sank to the cold floor. “Thank you,Solf.But if you ever try that again,I’ll tell Beck and Hadrian you’re interested in both of them.”
Solflara slapped a fiery wing over Alaire’s mouth, despite her exhaustion.
They were safe. Trapped, but safe.
Pushing away Solflara’s wing, her gaze darted to Dawson, still slumped on Beck’s back, chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. She swallowed hard. The cave was dank and cold, but no immediate threats lurked in the darkness.
She rose on her toes, pressing a hand to his forehead. Clammy, despite the frigid air.
Dropping her pack, she dug through supplies until her fingers closed on a thin bedroll. She spread it flat against the stone floor, smoothing the creases.
“Solflara, sit here.” She gestured to a spot across from the bedroll. “We’ll need your heat, but not too close. He can’t overheat.”
“Gladly.” Solflara settled where indicated, flames flickering low with fatigue. Her golden eyes tracked Alaire before finally resting against the cool stone.
“Beck, let’s get him down.”
The griffin crouched low as Alaire gently eased Dawson from his back. He groaned, the sound tightening every muscle in her body.
“Here,” she said softly, arranging Beck to lie beside the bedroll. “We’ll prop him against your feathers and keep his body stretched out.”
Beck obeyed at once, eyes never leaving his bonded, swimming with worry.
Alaire shifted Dawson against the griffin’s warmth, then covered him with the spare leathers. His face was pale, breath shallow. Blood still seeped through the makeshift wrappings. Infection was the real enemy now.
She clutched her ribs, hiding her grimace. Solflara’s eyes caught it.
“You’re hurt.”
“Just bruised.”
Moments later, the ache vanished. Alaire flexed her arms overhead. “Thank you.”
Solflara was already drifting into an exhausted half-sleep.
Alaire forced herself to focus. They had heat, but little else. Dawson couldn’t eat, not yet. In a few hours, she’d try warming preserved rations, but for now water was all he could take.
“Come back to me,” she whispered as she tipped the canteen to his lips. “You’re not allowed to leave me here, Dawson.”
His eyes fluttered open. Her heart squeezed as those turquoise depths locked onto hers.If he pulls through, I’ll never complain about his broody looks again.
He drank, slowly at first, then more eagerly, before leaning back with a sigh. She set the canteen beside him, just in reach.
Working quickly, she shredded the other bedroll into strips. Kneeling at his side, she said, “I need to clean these properly. I’ll unbutton your shirt, rewrap the wounds, then get it back on you so you don’t lose more heat.”
Dawson’s eyes widened as he glanced at his torso before meeting her gaze. With a resigned sigh, he nodded.
She helped him shift and unbuttoned his shirt. His skin was flushed and slick with sweat despite the biting cold around them.
Alaire bit the inside of her cheek to keep her panic at bay. Dawson needed rest, not to see her unravel.
