Page 27 of A Warrior's Fate

The trauma of all she’d encountered was hanging over, looming like a dark cloud ready to rain down psychological hell, but she kept the memories locked behind her own personal gate. And as their beastly forms fought hard to break free, all she could do was try to detach herself. Pretend that those experiences in her mind had been conjured by her imagination after hearing some horror story.

It wasn’t her who’d spent days within a nightmare, in an unending state of terror. Not her who’d stared her death in the face, not once but twice. Not her who’d felt the empty pit of imminent oblivion. Not her who’d heard the screams of a man before he—

“Where are we?” Isla asked, jarring herself from the thoughts. The demons continued their fight.

Adrien leaned back and adjusted to sit comfortably in his seat. “One of Callisto’s infirmaries.”

It had been an unnecessary question. Besides being obvious from her observations, it was where the Hunt always led. It was rare that those who entered left the Wilds unscathed. While some hunters only needed a quick look over after they’d emerged—with injuries that would heal quickly on their own—others required a little intervention, a push in the recovery direction.

Be careful of her arm.

Isla suddenly became very aware of her left side, her arm in particular. The heaviness, the ache so persistent she’d adjusted to its existence. She found it wrapped in a plethora of bandages, propped up and immobilized at her side. When she tried to wrench it from its holding, a twinge of pain rocketed through to her fingers.

“Shit,” she muttered. “What happened?”

“The bak did a number on you. We weren’t sure if they’d be able to save it, but you’re healing now.” Adrien didn’t bother going into the gory details, and Isla was fine with it. In hindsight, she was thankful she’d blacked out.

Gritting her teeth, never one to enjoy being tied down—physically and, arguably, emotionally—she repeated the action, trying to free herself from the platform. She knew her body would protest again as she bit her cheek to keep from whimpering.

“They said it would be a slower process than usual.”

“I don’t do slow.” Most of the time, she found using her body helped it heal faster, or at least, that was the excuse she fed to those who tried to make her rest when she was injured. “How are the others?”

Adrien sighed, knowing that any protest he’d make would fall on deaf ears. “A few are pretty bad, but they’ll make it. Everyone else is good.”

A few are pretty bad.

A loud breath, a mixture of agony and relief, fell from her lips when she was finally able to get herself loose, though it rapidly devolved into shallow pants of worry. It was a type of deep, soul-squeezing unease she’d only experienced once before, and it was when she’d heard Kai’s pained howl before everything went dark.

“The alpha was with me.” She brought her arm back to her side and turned to Adrien. “Did he make it out? Is he okay? Is he hurt?”

Adrien’s eyebrows raised, a hint of surprise at her distress. “He’s fine. He’ll heal quickly. If he wanted to prove his strength in there, he did, and then some. He took down four bak, more than his brother ever did…and he saved your life.”

He spoke delicately as if trying to ease her into the reminder of what could’ve been.

Isla’s mind flashed to Kai, standing before her covered in the blood of the beast who’d drawn hers, concern lacing his words, his hard gaze a bestower of comfort. There were so many questions that she’d wanted to ask him in that moment—how he’d found her, why he hadn’t howled back if he’d heard her call—but they got lost in the subsequent chaos.

The chaos…

“Is the Hunt over?” She ran her tongue over her chapped lips before biting one until she tasted iron. In her heart, she knew the answer she was about to get was one she dreaded.

“There’re two others that haven’t come out yet, but you know the protocol. There’s still time.” Adrien’s voice remained quiet, like he knew exactly why she was asking.

Even if she’d been prepared for it, the confirmation felt like a punch in the gut. “A bak took the man from Tethys.”

“I know, but no one’s seen his body. There’s a chance.”

“No.”

Isla squeezed her eyes closed, clenching her teeth so hard that she thought they’d shatter. There was no more blissful illusion. The images, the sounds, the atmosphere—they all came down in a torrent. She felt the phantom tinge of the sulfuric air on her tongue. The uneven mud beneath her feet. Smelled the bak’s breath as it descended to end her life. Heard the Trainee’s screams. The loop of it all was relentless.

She heard Adrien shift in his chair and then felt his hand on hers. “Hey.”

Her gaze was hopeless as she turned to her friend, squeezing back with whatever strength she had. “Do you still feel like you’re in there?”

“The nightmares stopped after a few weeks, but everyone’s different.”

A few weeks. She could handle a few weeks.

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