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“I’m sorry,” Dalca says again, into my neck as his shoulder spurts blood. I clamp my hand around it, trying to stifle the flow. He groans, in far worse shape than I thought. Not all his wounds are from these three beasts. How many did he fight before he came here?
“Stupid.” My voice trembles. “You’re an idiot. Haven’t you heard of backup?”
A tiny smile quirks his lips. “You were fine backup.”
That surprises a smile out of me, but it fades. “I’m sorry I ran.”
He closes his eyes. “I frightened you.”
My head spins. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you mean to?”
He breathes in and out, then his eyes flutter open. “Yes.”
“Why?”
The words come slow, as if he has to pull them from some dark, hidden place. “Because you frighten me.”
I drink in the lines of his face, the furrow between his brows, the way his jaw moves as he bites back the other things he would say.
My heartbeat hasn’t slowed, even though the stormbeast is gone. A giddy dizziness comes over me.
Dalca sighs, then pushes himself up, struggling to his feet. My hands hover, ready to help, but he shies away.
Upright, he holds a hand to me. I let him pull me up, stumbling as my head spins. My leg throbs with pain hot and sharp. His mouth moves, but I can’t make out what he says over the ringing in my ears.
The edges of my vision go gray, until all I see are his frightened eyes, then even those disappear, and everything is black.
