CHAPTER 10: Fresh Wounds

  The bubbling of the creek reached my ears first, a sure sign I was getting close.

  Above the stars glittered around a bright silver moon, pouring light onto the dense forest path before me. Crickets and frogs played their symphony hidden in the brush. The sweet scent of ponderosa pine brought back a flood of memories that I had let slip under the busyness of life.

  Each minute tightened like a knot in my chest. I couldn’t wait to see the place I’d missed so dearly. “Almost there,” I whispered.

  Fatigue settled into my bones. I was hungry, aching, and more than ready to finally lie down and get some real rest. It had been ages since I had ridden a horse for this long; my legs would probably forget how to work once I dismounted.

  The long hours spent riding on the trail left me alone to my thoughts. Too much time, maybe.

  Everything in my life had begun to unravel the moment the dragons attacked. Looking back now, I felt a strange ache for the girl I used to be—so hopeful, so unaware. I had no wise words for her, nothing that would have saved her, but I wished I could at least hold her, offer her the comfort.

  I missed the Jade from before Archibald. The girl who believed being kind was enough. Who didn’t know how dangerous it was to be sweet in front of the wrong man.

  My kindness was never the problem, I reminded myself. He was.

  I shook my head, anger grew quietly beneath my ribs. How could Archibald become so obsessed with someone he barely knew? A child, no less. Maybe he convinced himself he was rescuing me—some imagined hero saving a princess from Elsinora. But I remembered his letters.

  “Your figure has wandered my thoughts. And I will call for your hand when it is ripe to bear my children.”

  I rolled my eyes and let out a breath. Even if the rumors about his struggle to produce an heir were true, I knew I was only a trophy to him. Whatever he wanted from me, nothing else would have satisfied him.

  His former wife and lovers flickered through my memory. Poor souls. People used to say they were lucky to be chosen by him, but I remembered their portraits—those hollow eyes, the whispers surrounding their disappearances. Now that I was in their place, I finally understood. And there was no escape.

  It wasn’t just the fear of being used. It was the fear of dying in his hands.

  A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly.

  Bone walked ahead, each step measured and careful as we moved through the brush.

  And then there was Ares—an unexpected player in all of this.

  Guilt tugged at me for leaving without a word, but I knew exactly how he would react. He would either try to follow me or try to stop me. And through no fault of his own, I didn’t want either. I just wanted to be alone.

  Ares meant more to me than I liked to admit. But I had to move cautiously. Take my time. My gut wouldn’t let me think any other way.

  By morning, alarms might be raised. If I was lucky, maybe no one would notice right away. If Archibald even heard a whisper that I was missing, his fury would reach across kingdoms. I trusted only a handful of knights would be sent after me.

  I glanced south toward Dragons Peak, a dark shadow on the horizon. For a moment, I considered riding past Opal Lake altogether and heading straight to Arcantra. I wanted to see more than this—wanted to write discoveries of my own.

  But I had made a promise to Madeline, and I wasn’t prepared for a journey that long.

  The thought made me bite my lip. As if Arcantra would even let me in. They hadn’t invited my family in years, and every one of our requests had been politely refused. They’d grown more closed off, and Father suspected they were hiding something. I’d always believed they were simply private—avoiding war, avoiding alliances, doing no harm. They accepted few trades. Maybe they were comfortable. Maybe they preferred silence.

  Bone and I rounded a cluster of trees as we followed the stream. It guided us toward the tree line and the rocky shore of the lake.

  I patted his neck, thanking him for carrying me without complaint and hoping to ease whatever nerves he felt.

  I pulled him to a stop. I hopped down, landing firmly, and clicked my tongue for him to follow. Bone obeyed, ears swiveling in every direction.

  But just before we stepped through the tree line, he halted and whinnied softly.

  I frowned and scanned the shadows. I couldn’t see anything—but human sight meant little when my horse was uneasy.

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  I reached to stroke his nose, my hand inches from him, when a sudden, agonized moan tore through the silence.

  I flinched, gasping as the hair on my arms and neck rose all at once.

  Was it a bear?

  A troll?

  A drake?

  Bone’s ears twitched toward the sound—tentative, alert, pinned sharply behind me. My heartbeat sped up, each pulse pushing hard against my ribs.

  The noise came again, harsher this time. A man’s scream—twisted with something low and rattling. Whoever it was… they were in agony.

  Bone stood rigid, eyes wide with panic. I slid a calming hand down his snout, shushing the tiny whine trembling out of him.

  “It’s okay, Bone,” I whispered, though I felt anything but safe.

  “We’re on the grounds. Nothing can hurt us.” I said it softly, more for me than him, stroking his muzzle in slow, steady passes.

  I stepped to his side, keeping one hand on him as I pulled the cloak from his neck and reached for the knife I’d packed. Not a dagger—just long enough to make me feel like I had a chance.

  “Stay,” I told him. He shifted, wanting to follow, so I clicked my tongue sharply. He stilled.

  “I’ll be right back,” I murmured— and the ground shuddered as a roar tore through the night.

  Bone whinnied, stomping anxiously.

  “I’m only going to look,” I whispered. He whined but stayed put.

  I lowered myself and crept across the tree line, slipping behind a large mossy boulder. My palm stayed tight on the knife’s hilt. It shook. I wished I’d spent more time learning how to use it.

  My heart hammered as I leaned around the stone.

  The night was thick and shadowed, but moonlight finally caught on something farther down the shore—a shape slumped behind another boulder.

  Another cry rang out. Hopeless. Human.

  A hand appeared first—human fingers glistening wetly as they gripped the rock. A tall, dark-haired man hauled himself upward, barely managing to stand. He staggered toward the trees, his grip slipping.

  I drew in a quick breath.

  Moonlight glinted off metal—a blade jutting from his back near the shoulder blade. A short sword, angled perfectly so he couldn’t reach it.

  Blood streamed down his spine in dark red ribbons. He gasped for air, each step weaker than the last. A man. A human. What could he have done to deserve something like this?

  If he’d meant harm on the lake, the land would’ve reduced him to dust.

  His legs buckled. He collapsed onto the stones, panting once, then roaring in pain.

  The sound hit something inside me. Memories surged—wounded faces I couldn’t save. People slipping through my fingers. It was happening again. This man was dying. There was no denying It. His scream tore straight through me, shaking my vision. The blood—there was so much blood.

  I didn’t think. I ran.

  I burst from cover, sprinting toward him. My feet slipped over rocks, catching on roots and stones, but I kept going—any sense of caution erased by panic.

  He could’ve been a criminal. A thief. Someone dangerous. Men like that roamed the woods often—cunning enough to know who I was, what ransom I’d be worth. But none of that mattered now. Not with him screaming like that.

  I dropped to my knees beside him, breathless and shaking. The sight of the blood made my stomach flip, but I forced myself to focus.

  “Stay still—you’re making it worse,” I begged, my hands trembling as I leaned over him. Blood spilled faster with every twitch of his body.

  I reached for the blade, barely hooking a finger around the hilt— He lurched away, roaring, “No! Please!” The sound was half animal, all desperation.

  “Please, I must do something!” I cried, my voice breaking as I pressed my hands against the wound, desperate to slow the bleeding.

  He roared. “Don’t touch me!”

  “You’ll make it worse!” I stared helplessly at the sword jutting from his back, the skin around it inflamed—red branching out like burning veins across muscle. The blade wasn’t just wounding him. It was poisoning him.

  “If I could jus—” The words caught as my fingers finally brushed his back.

  His skin was hot, burning to the touch.

  He flinched at the contact and moved so suddenly that fear paralyzed me. I squeezed my eyes shut as I hit the ground, a heavy weight collapsing onto my left leg.

  “I’m sorry!” I gasped, chest heaving. Panic flashed white-hot through me. He was going to hurt me. I’d made a mistake, a horrible mistake— But then I realized… he wasn’t moving.

  He stayed there, his labored, ragged breathing filling the night.

  I opened my eyes and searched the moonlit air until my gaze found his face.

  Silence didn’t just fall—It claimed everything.

  The crickets halted their song.

  The frogs went still.

  The stars hung in suspense.

  Even the breeze folded itself into nothing. And my mind— A constant storm—Went quiet for the first time in my life.

  His eyes, percing gold wet with tears, wide and searching much like mine, stealing the breath from my chest.

  The heat radiated off his body like a fire, as I laid pinned beaneath him, cheeks red and flushed.

  Blood dripped off his back and onto me. "Please let me help," I said my own eyes brimming with tears. "What can I do?"

  He blinked, breaking the stillness, a sharp inhale as his arm buckled beneath him bringing his face close to mine. He cursed under his breath in a language I didn’t recognize. His eyelids drooped. He was fading fast.

  He collapsed beside me, crying out as he hit the stones.

  I scrambled upright and guided him onto his stomach. My soul wrenched as fresh blood spilled down his spine.

  “Pull… the blade,” he rasped.

  I didn’t hesitate. I scanned the shore for anything to pack the wound, but there was no time—not enough to search, not enough to run back to Bone for bandages. I reached beneath my dress, grabbed the cotton underlayer, and tore the bottom into thick strips.

  Bundling them into a wad, I pressed one beside the sword’s entry point.

  “Hurry,” he whispered hoarsely, consciousness slipping away.

  In one swift motion, I yanked the short sword free and flung it aside, immediately clamping the makeshift bandage over the wound.

  His whole body stiffened in agony. He bit down on his own breath, gripping the rocks so hard they cracked beneath his hands.

  “Stay with me,” I begged, watching him go limp. The blood wouldn’t stop. The rags were already soaking through. Panic clawed at my throat.

  “No, no—please, not again.” I pressed harder, putting all my weight into it, my strength in my arms draining with every second.

  “The lake…” he managed, barely audible.

  I jerked my head toward the water. Desperate, I sprinted to the shore, soaked the bloody fabric, and ran back. I pressed the dripping cloth to his wound.

  He stiffened and gasped sharply, the cold water shocking his system. And then, after a long, terrible moment…

  Please… please…

  He sucked in his first normal breath.

  Relief burst out of me in a shaky laugh as I watched the blood wash away under the lake’s touch. But before I could catch my own breath, something surged through me.

  Light racing through my veins, locking my arms, holding my palms against his back. I expected pain, burning, something violent—But instead, it felt like sunlight flooding through me.

  A warmth spreading from my fingertips to my ribs, like the sun itself had struck a match inside my chest.