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No one would come between us until I’d removed every last arrow from the Beast who had bought us time.
Slowly the thicket of arrow shafts disappeared from Ash’s back, leaving gaping, bloody wounds behind. I eventually stopped talking, my voice hoarse and painful, and just worked. The Beast didn’t move or growl again.
I shut out the voice that told me I was working on a dead Beast. He still breathed. I placed my hands on his bloody, matted fur and felt his back rising and falling, no matter how faint.
“Marshmallow and slippery elm,” I gasped out to whoever was lurking near me. Shadows moved around us, but I remained focused on Ash alone.
I found a pot of boiling water nearby, and began to automatically cleanse his wounds. My hands worked like someone else controlled me; everything else seemed so far away, and all that mattered was ensuring that this Beast did not die.
The monster within began to calm. My claws became fingertips; I felt the ache of my fangs receding. None of it meant anything.
Someone brought the poultice I’d requested, and I leaned over Ash, carefully packing each wound.
When it was done, I was surrounded by broken shafts and bloody arrowheads. My hair was caked and thick, my whole body aching.
The flight and fight had taken its toll on me.
I crawled on the grass until I could see Ash’s face, then collapsed next to him. His eyelids were slitted, his breath faint.
I put my hand on one of his, lacing my fingers between his clawed fingers.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Ash.”
I wasn’t aware of passing out from sheer exhaustion.
Chapter Nineteen
The sound of deep,rasping snores woke me up, along with the fact that I felt like I’d been crammed in an oven. My clothes felt absolutely soaked with sweat.
I opened my eyes to see a large gray mound in front of me. I l blinked, but Ash didn’t disappear.
One of his hands was wrapped around mine, his claws delicately brushing against my skin.
And behind me, another mound of fur was breathing, snoring above my head.
I was in the knothole nest, no longer covered in blood. The hand trapped in Ash’s claws was clean. Someone had moved us, and I was sweating because I was surrounded by enormous, hairy Beasts.
I knew the Beast behind me was Draven, merely because of his scent. One of his arms was draped around my waist. I had no idea if I’d be able to wriggle out without waking him, but I was more concerned about ensuring Ash continued to sleep.
He had survived at least one night, judging by the full sun above us. And I realized I had completely abandoned Freya and Aldis to the mercy of the Beasts.
At that, I decided to chance it.
I somehow managed to scoot myself down far enough to extricate myself from the piles of fur, and before I crept onto the lattice outside my knothole, I pulled a blanket over Ash.
Then I put my hand on his shoulder, palm-down. I sat there for several minutes, just feeling him breathe, glad that he had pulled through. The wounds on his back were already scabbing and ugly.
He would be scarred… but he would live. And that was what mattered.
Neither Beast woke when I climbed down the lattice to the clearing below.
It was easy enough to find Freya and Aldis; I just followed the sounds of Beasts growling and the splash of water.
In the stream near the Mother Tree, both of them were washing out their dresses. Two baskets had been left on the bank, full of clothes and blankets; Freya was knee-deep in the stream, scrubbing a dress with soap, while Aldis was further out, keeping one eye on the Beasts. Freya had abandoned her veil and hood, but Aldis still had her hood up.
Two of the Beasts were sitting on the bank, watching them. The large russet Beast was intent on Freya. He sorted through the basket, then delicately offered Freya a bar of soap.
The woman’s skin looked shiny; she’d covered her burned skin with ointment. It was already looking less inflamed. As I watched, Freya took a few careful steps back to the bank, and took the soap from the Beast’s claws.
