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Barthalow took a deep breath as Red’s palm opened up, her hands gripping her sides to hold the pieces of her skin together. He lifted his sword, ready to bring it down to finish what he started, leaning away to narrowly avoid an arrow that was meant for him. Red’s hair became a curtain over her eyes as she flinched away from him.
Metal clashed with metal as Randsin raised King Windre’s sword to stop Barthalow’s. They hissed, pushing at each other. My body recognized the call pulling me toward Randsin.
No, no. You can be stronger than this.
Red’s mouth parted, a tinge of blood pressed into the cracks of her lips. “Milo,” she moaned. My name on her lips, said with such conviction, made my knees buckle as I reached her.
Randsin fought to push Barthalow away. Away from us and away from Eydis who hadn’t yet moved. I glanced up at Eydis’ thin frame, slack against the uneven ground, but my arms were already wrapping around Red.
My heart beat once as Red looked in question from me to her.
My heart broke as Red looked back at me. “She’s so beautiful,” she whispered.
“This is not the time or place for this conversation,” I grunted. Pain laced my body. My muscles tightened in such a way that if I moved too quickly, I was sure they would cramp like lightning striking my body on repeat. I moaned in pain. Sticky with blood, Red cupped my cheek as I tried to breathe through the pain. Then I felt her breeze, gentle and weak, brush against my body, swiping at the sweat that covered me as I struggled not to turn toward the clashing of swords.
The oath hurt, but losing Red would hurt more.
I pushed myself to my feet, holding Red against my chest. Blood poured out of her, coating my thin shirt and making it cling to my chest. She gasped as she was jostled, her hand snatched away to hold the organs that threatened to spill out. Her head dropped to lean against my chest. Her breathing was ragged and panting. The ringing of swords and snarls of exertion were mere background noise to the beating of my heart.
“I’ll get you to a healer,” I said through gritted teeth. Every step away from Randsin was sluggish, like walking through mud. The cry of pain that ripped from my throat did little to alleviate the intensity of what I was feeling.
Graceson burst through the door I had used to come to the courtyard. His green eyes looked around me at first, watching the battle that raged on between Barthalow and Randsin.
“Shit,” he growled, reaching for his sword. “Randsin is too close for the archers to get a clean shot.”
“Please,” I pushed myself forward another step. “She needs a healer.”
Graceson stared at me for a moment, his mouth open, astonished that I was asking him not to fight. I imagined his life had only been about the glory of battle. For once, someone needed his help off of the battlefield. Red needed his help. I couldn’t move fast enough to get her there.
“You truly think Randsin can hold him off?”
“Yes,” I lied. It was easy to lie when it came to choosing between Randsin and Red. I’d pick Red every godsdamned time. Randsin was plenty good enough to hold his own, not to mention the danger his own mate was in. Eydis. “Her too.” I pointed at Eydis, barely allowing myself to turn toward the fighting men. If I gave my body too much slack, the binding would take over and I’d be leaping for Randsin’s throat, sooner rather than later.
“Damn it, give me the girl and I’ll be back for that one.”
Red groaned as I passed her over to Graceson’s arms. My shirt clung to every dip of my muscles and her scent surrounded me. Nausea rolled in my stomach when I thought about it too hard. For now, I needed to get inside and get away. Then, when the binding calmed, I could tend to Red.
“I’ve never much cared for damsels in distress,” Graceson muttered under his breath, turning and jogging back inside.
“Liar,” I heard Red groan as she clung to his arms. The sound of her voice was the only reassurance that perhaps I was doing the right thing.
Closing my eyes, I tried to drown out Randsin’s grunts and Barthalow’s curses. Guards began pouring out the door and I used them as leverage to help me forward, grabbing their shoulders and pushing myself off them as they went by. The men hadn’t even reached the scene before I heard a startled cry that sounded too much like the end of a man's life. I didn’t turn back to see who it was before I hurtled through the door, shutting it firmly behind me.
Graceson rushed back, rounding the corner. He stalled as he saw me sweating. “You’ve only made it this far?”
“The binding. Randsin,” I growled, baring my teeth.
“Do you need me to carry you?” he cooed, even as he ran by to fetch Eydis. Even in a state of emergency Graceson still managed to find a way to be an asshole. If I had a fucking vagina, I bet he would be a lot nicer to me.
I struggled through the hallways, thankful the infirmary was centrally located and easy to get to. Droplets of splattered blood led me to Red’s bed, where a healer hovered in intense concentration. Red’s eyes were half closed, staring off at the ceiling. I shifted to stand in her view. Anything to let her know she wasn’t alone.
“You’re back,” she smiled.
“Sorry it took me so long to get here.” I clung to the edge of the cot, worried that if I let go, I’d turn and run. Fire burned up and down my spine with such force, my vision blurred for a moment and I teetered on my heels.
The healer glanced up at me. “You should sit if you can’t handle blood.”
It wasn’t the blood that rocked me, but I knew that he’d never understand that. So I watched as he worked in silence. Red’s skin was stretched back over her abdomen, the organs she almost lost shoved back in. The healer moved his hands in circles stitching it back together like he was knitting a sweater.
