Page 84 of Heimlock

“In a way,” I grit out, hating every inch of this conversation. Kyrielle hasn’t stopped trembling, and she needs to rest.

The Healing Medic takes a step back. “It’s a scapular tear. We can give her healing tonics, but they’ll take a few days to work. She’ll need help twenty-four seven.”

Coach levels me with an indecipherable look. “You’re … okay with that?”

“Yes.”

Kyrielle looks up at me with saucer-sized eyes, bloodshot and swollen. “You sure?”

“If someone asks me that one more time, I’m going to scream,” I mutter. To Coach, I say, “I’ll take her home. It’ll be fine.”

I have no idea if that’ll turn out to be true, but there’s no way I’ll let her struggle to survive the next few days with a useless arm and wing.

33

My insides are a mix of humiliation, pain, and dread. The whole crowd saw me fail. Not just fail, but fall to the ground. If Trinte hadn’t caught me, I probably wouldn’t be standing right now.

And where in twelve Hells did he come from? My knight in shining blue scales caught me before my brains turned to mush on the arena floor. Now he wants to take care of me?

I’m sick to my stomach about it. For many, many reasons. Starting with the look Coach is giving him. Trinte agreed so readily, Coach is probably assuming there’s something going on. Which there is, but not what he thinks. If I weren’t in so much pain, I’d stupidly spend energy trying to explain, we aren’t sleeping together. Please don’t judge me. I’m not that kind of woman, I swear.

Unfortunately, every bit of strength is spent trying to stay standing. Even that is becoming more difficult. My right arm and wings are useless. The pain tonic from the Healing Medic only dulls the pain.

“Can you walk to the landing pad?” Trinte murmurs, giving my good shoulder a gentle squeeze. I nod mutely, not trusting sobs to escape if I open my mouth.

Orliana comes into my line of sight, face full of worry. “You sure you don’t want me to help? I can.”

Swallowing repeatedly, trying not to cry, I croak out, “It’s fine. I trust Trinte.”

The hand on my shoulder tightens briefly, as if trying to assure me.

My best friend looks between the two of us, unconvinced. She’s probably thinking about all the things that make this incredibly messy.

Except she doesn’t know what we did last night. There’s officially no one in this world I trust more than Trinte Gleanscale.

“If you’re sure …” she says slowly.

“You’re starting to insult me,” Trinte says sharply. “I’d like to think I’ve proven myself to everyone here in this entire fucking conversation, but especially to you, Orliana.”

Fynn growls, but Orliana cringes. “You’re right. I’m sorry for making it sound that way.” She looks at the red Dragon, who’s glaring at his brother. “Let’s head out so he can take her home.”

Coach looks me over one more time. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow, alright? You did good.”

I nod before looking at Luca. “I expect a rematch later.”

He gives a watery smile. “Name the time.”

With that, Trinte helps me slowly make my way out of the arena. I’m too ashamed to look at anyone directly. It was a mistake, but the arena is a large source of my pride and self-worth. Taken out by a rogue tail is so … juvenile.

Trinte is quiet as he leads me down the hallway toward the locker room. When we’re outside the female locker room, he asks, “Do you need anything from inside?”

“My phone and keys are in there.”

His jaw clenches. “I don’t think it’s wise for me to go in there, but—”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “I can carry it all in my left hand.”

“If you’re sure?”