“Still.” Dravik waves him off. “We had to wait until his wing was healed enough to fly here. As soon as we were strong enough, we came right here. Then we saw the arachnyx bodies, and feared the worst.”
He wraps Willow up in another hug. “I’m so, so happy you are unharmed, little one.”
“So am I,” she says, hugging him back. “I was so worried about you two.”
He pulls back, shocked. “Worried? About me and Cin?”
“Yes, silly,” she laughs.
“But… we are not mates.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t care about you and worry for your safety.”
His eyes widen, then flash with an emotion he’s never seen before.
“She’s got a point, you know,” I pipe up. “What do you think, Rhune?”
He grins. “I, personally, think we should forget about this silly conversation and have another group hug.”
Dravik raises a brow. “Do you, now?”
He nods eagerly. “I think it will help with the tension.”
“What tension?” Dravik demands. “There’s notension.”
Rhune wiggles his brows. “Yeah-huh. Thesexualkind.”
Dravik rolls his eyes. “My gods. Can you think of nothing else but mating?”
“Not really, no.”
Dravik huffs, releasing me and turning his deathly glare toward Rhune. “Well, youshouldbe thinking about what we are going to do for a suitable home. In case you haven’t realized,ourswas destroyed by angry ice wyrms. Your mate needs a warm place to rest and be comfortable.”
Rhune whines low, stepping close to Willow and throwing a wing over her shoulder. “We know that. We were just waiting for you two to decide what to do.”
“Well, the first thing is someone needs to go back to the lair and see if there is anything to be salvaged. Willow needs furs and plenty of food and bowls to drink water from. Right now, all we have is a healing pool.”
“Who should go, then?” Rhune asks. “Would it be better if we all went as a pack?”
“No. Willow needs to stay down here, where she’s safe,” Nyx says. “For whatever reason, the creatures of The Far Place are obsessed with her—especially the large and toothy ones. At least down here, the arachnyx can’t get to her.”
“That’s a good point.” Dravik nods. “In that case?—”
Kevin cuts him off with a panicked bleat, pawing frantically at my leg. Before I can ask what’s wrong, Willow doubles over, a low groan tearing out of her mouth as she clutches her head.
“Willow?” I’m at her side in an instant, my hand hovering over her back, not knowing where to touch that won’t make it worse.
The roots peeking through the cracks in the walls flare an angry red, the exact shade bleeding into her irises. The ground shudders beneath us, and somewhere far below, faintbut unmistakable, I swear I catch the chorus of a thousand ice wyrms.
What is happening to her?
“We’re here, Willow.” Rhune whines, crowding around her as I ease her body down onto the ground. Instead of being in pain, her expression is horribly lax, her eyes glassy and unfocused. I’m not sure which one is worse.
“It’s okay, Willow,” I whisper. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”
I don’t know if she can even hear me. Her eyes are fixed on some point past my shoulder, and no matter what I say, nothing seems to land. I keep talking anyway, speaking soft, useless reassurances to her because it’s the only thing I can do while I wait for whatever this is to pass.
I watch her carefully, that same familiar dread pooling low in my gut. I remember now what Willow said when she first arrived—that she thought she was getting sick. That this world was making her sick.
