Page 71 of Wraithwound

Forty-Five

The agony disappeared as quickly as it’d begun. Confused by the sudden absence of pain, she opened her eyes. Cross knelt over her, something like annoyance on his face. But the words of protest died on her tongue as she took in his features. Reflected in his sapphire blue eyes were her own, a golden ring bright as flame glowing in her irises. He extended a hand and brushed a lock of hair from her face with a touch so gentle it made her shiver.

She couldn’t help but notice his dark lashes, and the light dusting of freckles that covered the bridge of his strong nose and dimpled cheeks. She didn’t know how long she swam in those eyes, the expanse of blue and flecks of brown calling to her. She had this intense desire to touch him, and her gaze fell to his lips, parted in what could have been surprise. Awe, maybe.

Lena suddenly remembered there was a bolt protruding from her thigh and sat up, the sudden movement releasing her from whatever pull she’d felt from him. Her hands went straight to her leg, only to realize there was no bolt there. In fact, there was no pain at all. Lena flexed her foot, rotating her ankle, nothing. She patted herself down, feeling for the still-healing cuts from her encounter with the Nychtyra. Nothing.

She turned to Cross, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion, and in his hand, was a ruptured crystal. He’d used the land’s rarest and most coveted resource. On a wraith.

Lena’s mouth fell open.

“What did you do?” she asked, half shouting.

She was certainly grateful he’d healed her but to use a crystal on a wraith. It seemed blasphemous somehow, and yet, Lena had to remind herself she wasn’t entirely sure what she believed about the Goddess.

“I take it you’re fine?” Cross smirked and stood.

Lena stood as well, and that was when she noticed the bodies. Faces eaten away, they were more like pools of liquified remains. The guard that fired the bolts had disintegrated entirely; the only thing left was the crossbow. Lena stared at the corpses, not feeling a single ounce of regret.

“I can’t believe you pulled the red vial,” he said jaw going tense.

“I’m glad I did,” Lena retorted. “What would I have done with green or black? White?”

“You almost killed yourself. I had to inject you with the antidote and then use the crystal. You’d lost a lot of blood⁠—”

But Lena stopped listening when he said the word blood—the eleuth.

Lena ran, leaving Cross as she sprinted toward the creature. She found it lying on the ground in the same spot. Its fur was matted with blood that appeared to have clotted, but the bolt still protruded from its shoulder. She knelt on the ground before it, assessing how she might tend to its wounds.

Lena knew next to nothing about animal anatomy, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her. Reaching her mare, she pulled open the saddle bag, tossing aside her cloak, shirt, and gloves to reach her pack. She rushed back to the creature and readied what she might need. Cross approached and stood nearby in quiet support.

“I’m so sorry,” she said to the eleuth. It blinked up at her, trying and failing to lift its tail.

“I have to pull this out. Once that’s done, I have to clean the wound,” she told it, feeling both obligated to let it know and foolish that she was talking to an animal.

It blinked again, slower this time, and Lena got the sense that it understood. Which likely meant she was losing her mind, and yet, she continued speaking to it.

“Okay, let me set things up and then I can get to work,” she said, lining up the supplies.

But when Lena reached for the eleuth, it screeched and thrashed. Lena halted, hands in the air.

“It is going to hurt. I’m sorry, but we have to get that out,” she said.

Lena reached for the eleuth again, and it screeched a second time, trying and failing to get away from her. Lena couldn’t help the tears that stung her eyes. She swallowed thickly, thinking that it might not let her save it, and she wondered briefly if that was how Cross had felt when she’d refused his assistance the night before last.

The eleuth’s eyes darted around and landed on her discarded clothes. She turned to look but couldn’t identify what it might want. She was just about to try again when it flicked its tail at Cross. Lena pulled back, turning to look at the soldier. He was standing by Kharon, no doubt observing the strange interaction with a solemn look on his face, when the eleuth’s tail flicked towards him again.

“You?” she asked indignantly.

“Me?” he asked, appearing just as confused.

“You . . . want him to do it?” she asked, turning back to the eleuth.

The creature chittered softly and flicked its tail again. Confusion and more than just a little hurt flared inside her, but she tucked that away. As long as it would allow her to help, she wouldn’t question its choice.

“It wants you to do it,” she said to Cross, unable to hide the annoyance in her voice.

“I want to help, but I’m not a healer,” Cross said hesitantly.