Page 23 of Forged By Heart and Claws
“Oh.” Quen’s voice softened, and her brow furrowed as she knelt beside Thalira. “Yeah, let’s get you warm.” She wrapped her arms around her, pressing Thalira’s head to her chest. She started to rub Thalira’s arms then stopped.
Thalira’s lips trembled. Her gaze never left Yuki.
I grabbed Yuki’s hands. There was barely any warmth left. The bandage at her wrist had stopped pulsing with fresh blood, but it wasn’t enough. Her skin looked like she’d been bleeding out for hours, not mere minutes.
Her eyelashes fluttered weakly as she looked toward me, and something in her expression changed. It wasn’t pain—it wasfear.
I inched closer to adjust her position, and that’s when I saw it.
Her right slipper peeked out from beneath her skirt, soaked a deep crimson that had already darkened to near-black. Droplets of blood pattered onto the stone. I lifted the skirt—and bile hit the back of my throat.
Dozens of cuts crisscrossed her calves and shins. Some were shallow, but most were deep. Shards of glass glinted in the folds of her gown like the fabric had swept them up, trapping them against her skin. Her shoes had protected her feet, but that hadn’t helped while she was being carried. The glass had been pressed into her skin. She probably hadn’t even felt it.
I slid my fingers into the silk and removed a sliver… then another. And then even more.
She was bleedingeverywhere.
Vyraetos stood silently nearby, his hands folded tight. The look in his eyes shattered me.
She had minutes.
Yuki’s lips parted. Her head barely turned. But her eyes... they found me for a moment. “Sorry,” she breathed. “Didn’t… mean to cut myself. I’m… such a mess.” She inhaled a shallow breath. “Don’t want to die here.”
Tears burned the back of my eyes. “You havenothingto apologize for.”
“Calla Lily,” she murmured, a shiver racking her. “She hugged me…”
“Calla Lily will pay. I swear it.” My voice shook as I motioned toward the lamp.
Vad brought it over and set it on the table beside us.
Rhielle placed a hand on Yuki’s shoulder, fingers gently curved. “It’s going to be all right, Yuki,” she whispered. “Just breathe. Rest. Think about home—all right? The grasslands. The sun on your face. You and your sisters weaving baskets and carving sigils while the wind smells like wildflowers.”
Yuki’s eyes slid shut.
Myantha approached silently, carrying another lamp. She set it near Yuki’s feet, her gaze locked on our friend’s face. Silent tears slid down her cheeks.
My heart screamed, and I held Yuki tighter. Her pulse fluttered against my fingers, so damn faint. The scent of blood and bitter venom flooded my senses, curdling my stomach.
Yuki tried to smile. “My sisters…”
Her voice broke, barely more than air. Her eyelids fluttered.
Then rolled back.
Her chest lifted with one last breath—and stilled.
It didn’t rise again.
Stillness spread through the room, too sudden and too final.
Quen rocked back on her heels, still holding Thalira. A small, broken sound slipped from her throat—a whimper that cracked at the end. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears came anyway, spilling down and soaking into the bloodstained blue fabric of Thalira’s shirt.
Thalira bent forward, shoulders shaking. Her uninjured hand reached up, clutching Quen back with trembling fingers, her cheek pressed into her hair.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
