Page 82 of Eluvonia
Kaida banks to the right, his wings dipping gracefully. Declan follows, though I notice the strain in every beat of his wings. I press my cheek against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat grounding me even as the cold bites at my skin.
The mountains loom closer with every passing minute, their peaks cloaked in mist and snow. The air grows colder, snowflakes swirling around us like ghostly whispers. Kaida gestures toward a dark opening on the second-highest peak, barely visible against the shadows of the setting sun.
We land with a crunch of snow, the sudden stillness jarring after hours in the air. Declan’s knees bend slightly as he absorbs the impact, his grip on me steady. Kaida folds his wings against his back and moves toward the cave entrance, his movements cautious.
“Stay here,” he says over his shoulder, disappearing into the darkness.
The wait feels longer than it is, the only sounds are the faint whistle of the wind and Declan’s heavy breathing. Finally, Kaida emerges, his expression unreadable as he gestures for us to follow. “It’s clear.”
Declan carries me inside, his steps careful but firm. The cave is vast, the ceiling high enough to echo even our softest movements. Jagged stalactites hang like teeth, and the ground is littered with small stones and patches of moss. The walls shimmer faintly with mineral deposits, catching the flickering light of the fire Kaida soon sparks with broken twigs and pieces of wood he finds scattered amongst the cavern.
Declan lowers me onto the ground, and I can’t help the sharp hiss that escapes me as pain shoots through my body. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking over me with concern before he stands and stretches. “I’ll find some game. Kaida, can you check her wounds?”
Kaida nods, his expression serious as Declan heads out of the cave. Once the golden-winged prince is gone, Kaida approaches me, his movements slow. He kneels beside me, his gaze softening. “May I?”
I nod, unable to form words through the ache that courses through me. Kaida moves behind me, his fingers brushing lightly against the tatters of my shirt. The fabric clings to the dried blood, and when he gently peels it away, I can’t help the sharp intake of breath that escapes me. I try to focus on anything else but the pain — like the warmth of his touch or the steady sound of his breathing — but the chill of the cave suddenly creeps into my skin. A shiver wracks my frame, and I bite my lip to keep my teeth from chattering.
“Hold on,” he murmurs, standing abruptly. He disappears outside and returns moments later with a silver pan filled with snow.
“Where’d you get that?” I ask, arching an eyebrow despite my weariness.
He pats the large sack slung over his shoulder. “I packed afew things. Just in case.”
The corners of my mouth twitch into a weak smile. “Practical. I like it.”
Kaida sits behind me again, and I feel the weight of his breath before the cold shock of melted snow trickles down my back. I jolt, biting back a curse.
“Sorry. Should’ve warned you,” he says sheepishly.
I glare at him over my shoulder, and he offers a crooked, apologetic smirk. “I need to clean the blood away to see your wounds better.”
“Fine,” I mutter, turning forward again.
The cold water stings as he works, his hands surprisingly gentle as he probes the gashes along my back. His touch contrasts sharply with the freezing water, the warmth of his fingers both soothing and unsettling. He doesn’t speak much, though I catch the occasional hum of concentration.
I exhale shakily, trying to ignore the way my body involuntarily leans into his touch. After a moment of silence, my gaze drifts to his leg that is spread out next to me — the one IsworeI saw get torn open in battle. The image of his blood streaking down his leg, his expression twisted in pain, flashes through my mind. Yet now… nothing. His leg looks completely untouched.
My brow furrows. “Your leg…” I start, my voice hoarse. “I saw you get hit. That thing’s claw—”
“It’s fine,” he cuts in, his voice unusually dismissive.
I blink. “Kaida, Isawthe gash. It was deep—”
He exhales through his nose, like he’s mildly annoyed. Without a word, he stops working on my back and hikes up the torn fabric of his pants, and reveals his leg. My breath catches.
It’s healed. Completely. The skin where the gash should be is smooth, not even a scar remaining. No trace of injury.
“What the hells…” I whisper, staring wide-eyed at his leg.
Kaida shrugs like it’s nothing. “Perk of what I am. My body doesn’t stay injured for long.”
I blink, still unable to process it. “But that wound was… it should’ve—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupts, his tone even. “I’m fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.” He says, and continues working on my back.
My mouth opens, but I can’t find the words. How could he just brush that off like it was nothing? That gash was deep—anyone else would still be limping from it, even normal Dragons don’t heal that fast. But Kaida? He acts like it never happened.
Another shiver crawls down my spine, but this time it’s not from the cold.What exactly are you, Kaida?
