A whimper escaped Nienna when her back crushed against the scales, every movement sending shockwaves of agony through her battered body.
“Land, you beast.” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Wings snapped out as if she understood. My weight pitched forward, hundreds of pounds dragging at my arms. My boot slipped, and Nienna’s nails tore deeper, pain driving them further into my skin.
Tsunami hit the ground, the impact rippling through her body and shaking us loose. Her spike slipped from my grasp, and wetumbled toward the earth. I gripped my spear, pressing it behind Nienna, locking her within the cage of my arms.
We landed on soft dirt in a roll. Plate armor slammed into my spine, and I grunted, muscles coiled, shielding Nienna’s head against my chest as momentum carried us forward.
My back collided with a tree, pain lancing along my vertebrae. I swallowed my curse, levering myself off her. Her skin was pale, breaths shallow, each one a fragile whisper. Eyes closed, she clung to consciousness by a thread.
“Ronan!” I yelled, scrambling upright. I left my spear on the ground and cradled her against me, jogging toward the lake clearing.
“You storming dropped her!” He seethed, rushing to my side as I lowered her. “I could have carried her!”
“If we waited for you to circle back, she’d be dead,” I snapped, running my hands over her limp body.
The transparent webbing they used to clothe her only hindered me. I tore it off; the fragile weave gave way without effort. My fingers pressed along her neck, joints, arms, and legs, checking for breaks.
“Her head.” I rolled her over, leaving Ronan to shield her face from the dirt.
I froze.
When Egath had been at her neck, he’d blocked my view. Our meeting had been far too brief—I hadn’t seen…
Ronan’s breath caught, horror radiating off him.
Her back was a bloody map of cuts, swollen beyond recognition. Skins peeled from muscle. The lacerations weren’t the worst—it was the dark bruising, a sickly mix of blue and yellow that churned my stomach.
Pushing past the lump in my throat, I pressed my hand to the base of her skull. Not gentle, precise. Efficient.
Down her spine, I felt each bone along her ribcage, fingers biting into torn flesh.
She gasped, wordless agony rattling her, and Tsunami lunged. Gyrak cut her off, tail whipping above our heads with a roar.
I shoved empathy aside and bottled my horror as I traced each vertebra. I needed to know she was whole. That she was well.
At her tailbone, she arched, and I nodded to Ronan. “Give me your jacket.”
No bones were broken.
I moved on to assessing her skin, her eyes still closed, cataloging every cut and bruise. Dragons landed around us, shaking the earth. I ignored them, gauging depth and danger. Her back bore the worst of it, but a slice along her inner thigh ran the length of her leg, curling over her knee to the outside of her calf. Deep in spots, but if I could bind it, it would hold long enough until we reached Sol. She would need stitches.
I spent the next few hours in tense focus, tossing out curt orders.
Boiled water—I didn’t care if there was a fire. We had no need for cover. Not anymore. They could burn the perimeter to ash, and I would still tend to Nienna first.
“Nakos, your shirt.”
I peeled the gossamer from her body, and using strips of the riders’ clothes, I bound the worst of her thigh and back, layering Erwin’s tunic over it all.
To their credit, Ronan and the others handled it well. Never having seen a battlefield, they didn’t hesitate when I demanded they strip, didn’t flinch at the sight of her naked, battered body.
It was part of war.
Something I was unfortunately far too experienced in.
With her head resting on her brother’s lap, wrapped in his jacket and a tunic that barely covered her thighs, I stood.
