They didn’t speak. No words were necessary. The pounding of his heart answered the drumming of her pulse. The gasping of his lungs echoed the shuddering of her breath. The shaking of his limbs matched the quaking of her embrace.
He was still alive. Still breathing. Still standing—because of her.
Collin pulled her closer, tighter, and she didn’t pull away. His thoughts spiraled like wind-tossed leaves. His heart galloped, wild and grateful, because she had come just in time.
Time slowed. His breathing slowed. The soft voices of birds returned, one simple note at a time. Twigs snapped, voices echoed through the forest. Dragonfly shifted in his arms, and he reluctantly let her go.
There was blood on her hands. It was his blood. He took her hands and wiped her palms with the hem of his shirt. He looked into her eyes, dark and overcast with terror. “Are you alright?”
Dragonfly met his gaze. She nodded, but she couldn’t yet speak. As their friends thrust into their midst, she gently tugged her hands out of his grasp.
Hadria’s scream shattered the stillness.
Collin flinched as her voice cut through the trees like glass. His ears rang.
“What happened?” Aries yelled, boots pounding through the underbrush.
Hadria clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide. “Were you attacked? Oh god—are you hurt?”
River’s dogs exploded into snarls at the panther’s body, lunging against their collars. “Girls—no!” River shouted, but the barking drowned him out.
Arion stumbled in, breathless. “Collin—I still have your spear!”
“Unarmed,” Hadria shrieked, “He was unarmed?!”
“Whoa, look at thesizeof that thing!” Aries shouted.
Lekyi pushed past the others. “You could have been killed!”
More shouting. More voices. Hadria again, “Are you bleeding? Are you injured?”
Collin winced. Each word hit like a blow. His head was pounding now—when had that started? His limbs still trembled. He wanted to say something, anything, but his own breath was too loud in his ears, too uneven. He thought of asking Hadria to quiet down, but the words wouldn’t come, not over this storm.
Arion had crouched beside the boar. “Wait—who killedthis?”
“Youknowbetter than to come out here unarmed!” River snapped, still wrestling his dogs, their barks frenzied, desperate, ears flat.
The voices swelled. Collin’s pulse roared.
“Everyone justshut up!” Aries bellowed.
The forest went still. Even the birds stopped singing.
Aries turned to face them. “Are you two alright? Did it bite you?”
Collin swallowed. His throat was too raw. He tried to speak and only rasped air. Cleared his throat. Again.
“We... we’re alright,” he managed. His voice didn’t sound like his own. “Dragonfly shot the panther. Just in time.”
River stepped closer, eyes sharp. “Are you sure it didn’t get you, Collin? You’re bleeding. A lot.”
Collin turned to Dragonfly.
She was still standing behind him, unmoving, her bow forgotten on the ground. Her face was pale—drained of everything but breath. Their eyes met, and he saw it mirrored in her, the same need to getawayfrom all of it. The noise. The blood. The shaking.
“I’m not hurt,” he said quietly—mostly for River’s sake.
Before anyone could respond, he reached for her hand. She didn’t flinch. Her fingers slipped into his like they belonged there.
