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The creature slashed out.
I nocked an arrow. Fired.
Demos lunged.
My arrow struck true, straight through the creature’s open mouth. But it was still moving.
So was Demos.
His sword flashed. But he was too far away. I saw the moment he chose. The life of the boy over his own. Time seemed to slow.
“Demos!” My scream was swallowed by the din of the fight around us.
Demos was off-balance. But he leaped, propelling himself in front of the boy. The creature’s talons shredded through his shoulder and one side of his back. But Demos stubbornly held his ground.
Another scream was ripped from my lungs. I fired again, but the creature was already slashing out once more, burying its claws in Demos’s side. My next arrow lodged in the creature’s eye, and it fell back.
But Demos slumped to the ground as well.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The beasts still circled high above our heads. But they were no longer attacking, merely dodging the arrows our archers continued to send their way.
I sprinted toward Demos, falling to my knees.
“I’m sorry,” the boy choked out. “I’m so sorry.”
“Pick up your sword,” I said. Gods, there was so much blood. “And get back to camp.”
He scrambled to his feet and ripped off his shirt, handing it to me. His face was wet as he stared at Demos. “He saved my life.”
“So don’t waste it. Go.”
I pressed the boy’s shirt against Demos’s side. I wasn’t a healer. I needed Tibris. I didn’t know what to do.
Demos’s eyes met mine. They were clear. Fearless. And tender. “Run,” he ordered, but his voice was barely a whisper. “They might circle back.”
I would never leave him. And I was keeping one eye on the sky. “Just as soon as you can run with me.”
“Sin.”
“How bad is it?”
“Bad,” his eyes told me. But he didn’t say a word.
I took a deep breath, removing the pressure I was putting on his side. Pushing up his shirt, I found the deepest wound. His blood was still spilling out onto the ground around us. Dropping my crossbow, I pulled off my tunic, leaving me in just the flexible band around my breasts.
“The closest I get to undressing you, and I can’t even make the most of it.” His words came out weak, but still soaked in humor.
“Survive this, and I’ll let you undress me,” I said recklessly.
He laughed, but it was a mere puff of air.
I scanned the sky. The creatures had disappeared. But who knew if they’d fled for good or if they were planning to return?
Around us, the wounded moaned. Demos wasn’t the only body lying flat on the ground with someone next to him. Nearby, a woman burst into tears, sobbing a name over and over. Herne would dispatch the human healers without power, but he wouldn’t risk letting Tibris near the front. And we needed his magic.
I tied my tunic to the boy’s shirt, wedging it beneath Demos’s torso. He grunted but helped me by rolling slightly, allowing me to encircle his torso with it. I tied it in a knot to put a little pressure on the wound. But it wouldn’t last for long. Especially when I moved him.
