Page 191 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“Is it not worth trying—for him?”
Solflara’s claws scraped the stone as she adjusted, careful not to wake Beck or Dawson. “I’ll sit closer to the front of the cave.The storm’s intensifying—I can block out most of the cold filtering through the rocks.It doesn’t bother me nearly as much.”
Alaire huffed softly. “Deep beneath those fiery layers,you’ve got a slobbery puppy-dog heart.”
Solflara ignored her attempt to change the subject. “Think about what I said.”
Alaire stifled a yawn as she nodded, not ready to put a voice to those feelings yet. Fatigue had finally sunk its claws into her. After checking Dawson’s water, she tiptoed closer in case he stirred.
His hair was plastered to his face, damp with sweat. His teeth chattered.
She leaned down, pressing her hand to his forehead. His skin was ice-cold, leeched of color, lips tinged blue.
“Already on it.” Reading her mind, Solflara raised her flames. The cave immediately filled with warmth.
Alaire peeked at his bandages. Pus oozed from the frayed strips of cloth. Infection was spreading faster than she’d feared.
Something in the yeti’s claws had to be poison.
Dawson’s breaths came shallow and labored. He gave one last rattling cough, and then… nothing.
Terror stabbed through her lungs like icy knives. “No, no, no.” Her hands flew to his neck, searching desperately for a pulse. It was there—barely. Erratic, fading. Each beat weaker than the last.
He was dying. Right here in her arms. And she was powerless to stop it.
Something inside her cracked open. He’d seen strength in her when she only saw broken pieces. He made her believe she was capable of greatness when the world had taught her she was only capable of enduring. When he looked at her, she wasn’t the girl who’d lost everything—she was someone worthy of belief, of trust, of something dangerously close to devotion.
He made her feel like she could be more than her pain. Like she deserved more than just existing.
And she was losing him.
His pulse fluttered again, weaker now. How many beats did he have left? How long before that heart—the one that hadsomehow helped her reclaim pieces of herself she thought were lost—stopped forever?
She’d never finish their conversation from the ball. Never see that devastating smile that stole her breath. Never tell him that somewhere between his impossible standards and unshakable faith in her, she’d started to fall.
Memories clawed to the surface, relentless and unforgiving. She could almost smell her mother’s perfume, hear the steady cadence of her father’s voice. Her father, who’d always listened, always made her feel heard. She remembered racing through the castle halls, too restless to sit still, and how his love of books had become her own.
These memories were gifts—precious, fragile—but also reminders of everything she’d lost. Each glimpse was bittersweet, deepening the void their absence left behind.
Her shoulders shook, jostling Dawson’s head against her arm.
“The more choices I made, the heavier the numbness settled. Pain and anger were easier. Detatching myself from who I was forced to become,” she whispered into the dark cave, swiping at her eyes. It was easier to confess when no one could hear.
“Avoiding everything has always been easier. Because if I let myself feel even an ounce of that grief, I’d drown in it.”
But maybe drowning was the point. Maybe she had to sink into it to flutter her way back to the surface. Maybe she had to stop running from the pain of losing her parents—or risk losing someone else she?—
Loved.
The word snatched the air from her lungs. She loved him. This impossible, arrogant, beautiful, brooding prince who made her believe she was capable of more than surviving, who made her feel worthy of living.
And Dawson mattered. Gods, he mattered more than breathing.
It happened in pieces. In the silences they shared. In the way both of them flinched from their pasts. It happened when she started to remember, and when he began to understand. She fell, not because she was meant to—but because in the remnants of everything she’d lost, she’d found something she wasn’t ready to let go of.
And she would damn the gods themselves before she let them take him.
With each slowing beat of Dawson’s heart, the fury that had roared to life inside her transformed into something greater—something that could move mountains and defy death itself.
