Page 88 of Faeling
When the pain and nausea subsided, Ravenna slumped back against Vallek’s chest. He gathered her close again, running his hand gently through her hair.
“Your wings are beautiful,” he murmured.
“They’resmall,” she grumbled.
“Are they?” She felt him cock his head to take a better look. Ravenna fought her instinct to try folding them away again.
“Yes. Too small to fly.”
“Well, they were enough to break your fall. For that, they are my favorite.”
It was an absolutely ridiculous thing to say, and the sudden smile it brought her was just as ridiculous.
“Is it all right to touch them?” he asked, even as his fingertips began to trace the upper bone again.
“Gently,” she murmured. “And just the top.” She might crawl right out of her skin if he touched the membrane. Incredibly sensitive, the membranes were meant to sense the most minute shifts in air pressure, as well as traces of magic. Even now, just having them unfolded and exposed to the morning air, was far more sensation than she was used to.
But before his fingers could move far along the curve of the bone, Vallek’s head rose abruptly, gaze fixing down the gorge.
Ravenna heard what he had a moment later—calls for Vallek echoing down the stone walls.
“They’ve found us,” he sighed. She couldn’t quite tell if he was relieved or disappointed.
There was no time to ponder, though, Vallek swiftly standing up with her in his arms. She fisted his tunic, throwing her arm around his neck. After kicking dirt onto the dying fire, Vallek walked out from the shelter of the cave.
“Here!” he called, great voice booming down the length of the gorge.
The small party of orcs cried out with relief, hustling toward them. They skirted the mangled body of Ulrich, their gazes quickly averting from the gory scene.
In their lead was Mattias, a welcome sight, and he was the first to reach them.
“Thank the gods,” he panted, “we worried you both were lost.”
“I’m far harder to kill than that,” Vallek said. “Thankfully, so is my mate.”
Mattias turned to regard Ravenna, his expression softening. “I’m glad to see you, my lady.”
She nodded, emotion clogging her throat. “Thank you, captain.” It was a relief to not see anger or blame darkening his eyes. It wasn’t outlandish to think that she would be blamed for Ulrich’s demise, especially by any who agreed with his opposition to Vallek taking her as a mate.
Ravenna had grown to like the quiet, steadfast captain.
She gratefully took the waterskin Mattias offered, guzzling down gulps of the best water she’d ever tasted. When her thirst was quenched, she held the skin up for Vallek to drink. It was ridiculous how mesmerizing he could be as he drank, the ball of his throat bobbing with every swallow.
Her bite would look perfect right at the base.
Fates, even injured, her mating instinct hadn’t suffered from the fall, it seemed.
“Lady Ravenna needs a healer. And Commander Ulrich must be…” A tendon ticked in his cheek. “He is to be treated with respect.”
“Of course, my king,” said Mattias with a nod. Efficient as always, he waved at two of the warriors who carried the deconstructed parts of a stretcher. Together they strode for Ulrich’s remains, starting the grisly task of collecting what was left to bear back to camp.
“And here is the healer.” Mattias waved forward a smaller orcess, her graying mane plaited and bound up into a tight knot at the top of her head. Ravenna vaguely recognized her from not only the camp but within the citadel, too. Fenna was one of Vallek’s personal healers, and Ravenna had studiously avoided the orcess all her years in Balmirra.
“Let’s take a look, dearie.”
The orcess wasted no time inspecting Ravenna’s injured wrist, her hands dry and warm. She went about her assessment without blinking an eye that it was a half-fae she looked over, nor that the king himself refused to put her down.
“I can stand,” Ravenna told him. At least, she thought she could.
