“She’sfine,” he said, more to himself than to her.
Thessia held his gaze. “If you believe that, go check for yourself.”
Silence.
Resh took a breath.
Then another.
That sinking feeling he’d ignored all day twisted like a blade in his gut—deep and merciless.
Without another word, he turned and strode back toward the tent.
Measured steps, because shewasjust resting.
Then faster, because what if she wasn’t?
And then he was running—
Sprinting—
Because, suddenly, he knew:
He had been wrong.
16
Breaths Counted
The flap of the Commander’s tent hung heavily in the evening wind. His boots crunched on the rugs as he stepped to the cot.
Auryn lay wrapped in the same furs he’d tucked around her, hair spilled across the pillow like the first frost of Ice. Her face was serene and beautiful.
Still resting.
Exactly as he’d left her that morning.
Scratching at the scar on the back of his neck, he fetched a jug of fresh spring water and a basin. Filling it, he picked up a ragged cloth from atop one of the chests and made his way to her.
After the battle, she’d fallen asleep standing—right there in his arms. He’d been ready for it this time. When her legs gave, he simply carried her the rest of the way. There hadn’t been time to do much more than tuck her in. Duty called, heartless in its necessity.
But now, he could wipe the spots of the monsters’ black blood from her face. To wash her cheeks, her neck, her hands. He wiped the gore from her skin, unsure what he should be feeling—only that he felttoo much.Lost, as ever, in the mystery of her existence.
The water stung his hand where his battle magic had irritated a recently developing callous on his palm. He glanced at it with apathy, his motions stilling.
Time stretched, and that feeling came again.
A dread in the pit of his gut.
He glanced at Auryn.
So still.
Serene.
Tooserene.
His breath caught.
