Page 127 of Sweetling
She didn’t know why, but the sight of him so drained, trembling after bringing her so far, to safety, had more tears leaking from her eyes. She didn’t think she had any left, but she wept for Bellarand.
Despair rushed into the hollowness of her chest, and for a sickening moment, Molly didn’t know what to do.
Get up.
It wasn’t his voice, nor Allarion’s, but her own.
You have to get up.
Allarion had sacrificed himself.
Bellarand had done his part.
It was time for her to do whatever she had to.
Gathering all the air she could into her lungs, Molly leaned back and screamed, “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!”
And she kept screaming, sometimes not even words, just the anguished sound of a woman terrified for her man. She screamed and screamed until hands came around her, bearing her up.
Those hands were green.
She looked up in surprise to see a worried Lord Hakon staring down at her. At his elbow stood Lady Aislinn, her face contorted with concern.
“Molly!” she cried. “What’s happened?”
“Allarion—” Molly croaked.
30
By the time night fell across the forest, Allarion had successfully worked his way further toward the estate, although it hadn’t been as much progress as he wished. Traveling through the treetops was slow, dangerous work, yet even away from Scarborough, Allarion found the trees worked to aid him.
They extended their limbs when the distance was too great to jump, and those still with their leaves shielded him from the keen sight of his foes. Logs rolled in their way, and roots lifted to trip their dread-mounts.
But still, the triad pursued him.
At first it was just the two he occupied on the road, but it was with some relief he noticed around dusk that they were three once again. From the snatches of faethling that echoed up to him, he was viciously pleased to hear that Bellarand and Molly had made their escape.
The triad turned their full focus on trying to catch him, and so he played an arduous cat-and-mouse game with them, working his way steadily southwest toward the border of the estate. He could feel it nearing, his magic a siren’s call. Within the border, he could activate the wards. A protective shell of magic would keep out the warriors, and he could mount a proper defense.
Getting there was the sticky bit.
Hunger gnawed at his insides, his empty stomach complaining. Allarion didn’t dare use magic to soothe it, either. That was likely how his ancestors had started all this, a little here, a little there, solving small things. Molly had broken the cycle for him, and he wasn’t about to undo her gift. Even if it meant chewing on tree bark.
His wounds, though, were another matter.
Having lost his pursuers for the moment, Allarion found a sturdy branch to hunker down. Setting his back against the thick trunk, he gritted his teeth and prepared for the pain.
The broken arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder screamed agony through him when he wrapped his hand round it. It’d be better to leave the arrowhead in, but he was losing strength in his left arm, strength he needed for climbing.
Best deal with it now.
In one swift motion, he pulled the shaft and head from his shoulder. His magic rushed in to fill the puncture left behind, stoppering the blood and soothing the edges of his broken skin. The magic dulled the worst of the pain as it got to work meshing him back together.
Allarion rested his head against the trunk, letting the magic do its work. Already, it’d healed numerous little cuts and scrapes on his hands, arms, and knees from clambering through the forest, as well as a deeper gash from one of the triad’s blades. It was a lucky blow, one that still annoyed him hours later.
Had he been smarter, more cautious, he’d have worn his armor whenever he left the grounds of Scarborough. And fashioned Molly a set, too.
He didn’t let the magic take away all of his pain, not when it kept him alert and…he felt he deserved some of it. He’d been negligent, complacent, in the one thing that mattered most—the safety of his mate. The only thing that soothed his wounded pride was knowing that she wasn’t the target, that he could remedy the threat to her by leading their enemies off.
