Page 32 of Alan

“Oh, thank you.” Her sarcasm was thick, heavy.

“Sincerely,” I insisted, determined not to sink to the level of a bully. I would not order her, I would not use force to subdue her no matter how deeply I wanted to. “She was desperate with fear when she found your bracelet. She knew you needed her. She would not rest until she found you. And she did, did she not? There was no telling what she might be walking into. She knew nothing of the coven, had never met them. She did it for you.”

“She’s a witch.” Disgust mingled with disbelief.

“Aye, that she is,” I agreed, wincing when she stumbled backward.

She caught herself just in time, taking hold of a low-hanging limb to steady herself before continuing.

She had no idea how difficult it was for me not to save her from herself. It was all I wished to do.

“And a dragon.” Her voice shook. “How can that be? You’re one of them, too. How is that possible? How is any of this happening?” There was an edge of hysteria creeping into her voice. I had to calm her before it took over.

“I assure you, we mean no harm. I mean no harm. Keira was just as shocked and frightened as you were when she first met us, but—”

She covered her ears with her hands. “Stop. I don’t want to hear any more. I just want to go home.”

The breath caught in my throat as I stopped short of speaking the words which I was certain would throw her over the edge and into hysteria. Tell her! She must know! The dragon demanded the truth be spoken.

She could not go home. There was no returning to her old life after finding us and knowing what she knew. She was one of us, whether she liked it or not.

“I… I do not know if that is possible just now,” I hedged, hoping to lessen the distance between us that we might sit down and have a real talk. An utterly ridiculous idea, as she was hardly in the state of mind to allow rational conversation.

Her eyes went wider than ever, as though she’d just received a great shock, and her mouth fell open. I realized a split second too late that she was not reacting to me, but rather to the fact that the last unsteady backward step she’d taken had left her foot dangling in open air.

She had reached a sharp cut-off, the face of the rocky slope falling away as though it had been sheared clean. The drop was not steep, no more than a few feet, but she was unprepared.

I threw myself forward, arms outstretched. She flung her arms forward at the last moment, our fingertips brushing. It wasn’t enough.

Emelie fell back, her head striking a tree along the way. The sound of bone on unforgiving wood rang through my ears.

By the time I reached her limp body, a trickle of blood had begun flowing down the back of her head, turning the lavender hair a deep, violent shade of purple.

“Emelie?” I lifted her gently, cradling her head in one hand. Her blood was warm on my palm. “Emelie? Wake up.” With my other hand, I tapped her cheeks. They were stark white, cold. An ear to her chest told me she was still breathing, still alive.

“Come with me.” Not that she heard me or had a choice. I lifted her, her thin body draped over my arms and cradled protectively against my chest, before sprinting back into the cave and calling for help all the way.

The very last thing I wanted was to owe anything to the coven.

But pride mattered little when Emelie was at stake.

Keira met me halfway. “What did you do to her?” she shouted, clamping her hands over her mouth.

“Nothing! She fell, trying to get away from me.” Shame burned through my body at the sound of words which carried a heavy truth. She wouldn’t let me touch her or even come near her for fear of who I was. “I was too far away to catch her before she struck her head.”

Keira whimpered as she fell into step beside me, both of us running into the circular room.

Selene was on us in a flash. “What happened to the girl?”

I had no choice but to explain it again, and this time in front of everyone.

“She struck it hard. She’s bleeding.” My sleeve was already soaked with her blood, the scent heavy in my head.

“Yes, head wounds tend to bleed the most,” Selene murmured. With barely a wave of her hand, she produced a settee. “Place her there, gently, on her side. I wish to examine the wound.”

I was as gentle as I could manage, resting her body on the soft cushions as Selene lowered herself to her knees.

“Bring me a torch,” she ordered, and Callie obeyed in seconds.

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