Page 100 of The First Spark
And to wrap that wound, she’d have to take those rags off. Feverish heat spread through him, and he sucked in a breath, reigning it in. He would cross that bridge when they came to it.
Zane pressed gauze to a burn, and Kalie flinched, clenching her fists. Trying his best to ignore her winces and hissed curses, he dabbed at the burn. Clinical, detached. He silently repeated the rule as he followed the burn up her side. She was shaken and frightened. No need to make this awkward. He would clean the wound, bandage it, and?—
She whimpered.
Screw it.
Zane held out his other hand. “Here.”
She sniffed. “Trying to get me to hold your hand?”
“You flatter yourself.” He smirked at her, and a strained smile ghosted across her lips. “If it hurts, squeeze my hand. It helps. I promise.”
As Kalie placed her cold hand in his, shocks shot up his arm.
Zane swept the gauze over a hissing red patch of skin. She inhaled sharply, and as her hand tightened around his, he paused. Then she relaxed, and he continued.
“Were you a medic on Oppalli?” Her voice was barely audible over the roaring engines.
“No. Not officially. But when the war got bad… we all had to learn, I guess.”
It didn’t matter in the end. No matter how desperately he’d fought to keep his squad alive, they’d all died eventually. He hadn’t been able to save them.
“How did you end up on such a terrible planet?”
Zane scowled. He was used to the judgment, the contempt for his home, but Oppalli wasn’t all bad. Centuries ago, before the Dalian government had mucked around with Oppalli’s Third Republic, it had been prosperous. Peaceful. Safe. Now wasn’t the time for picking fights, though, so he pushed the anger down.
“My mom was from there. Keep pressure on that.”
Their fingers brushed as she pressed down on the gauze he’d packed against her side. Blood trickled down her back, and Zane motioned for her to turn. Her golden hair, tangled and matted with blood, hung over a gash. As he brushed it over her shoulder, she shivered.
The heating units must’ve regained some power, because he could’ve sworn the temperature had risen.
“They met when my dad was on vacation, a few cycles before the war. When she got pregnant with me, they eloped and moved back to Dali. It was a big scandal at your court.”
“It’s not my court anymore,” she whispered.
Zane taped a wad of gauze over the bleeding wound. It wasn’t her court, and he’d meant what he said earlier. A war to get her throne back had too high a cost. But Madeleine had destroyed Dali, even before the civil war broke out. To have her loyal daughter sit on the throne—the daughter of the tyrant who’d ordered the death of his father…
He crumpled a piece of gauze in his fist.
It wasn’t worth the fight. Itwas notworth it.
“You have a cut here.” Zane tapped a spot high on her back. “The dress is in the way.”
She tugged the zipper down, but she couldn’t get it past the small of her back.
Gently, he pried her hands away, hissing at the sight of her cracked, scabbed nails. He eased the zipper down to her waist. Herripped corset covered most of her back, but his jaw clenched at the sight of the gashes and the shards of glass glinting inside them.
Her own people had done this to her. And she blamed herself.
Zane pinched a sliver of glass out of the cut, and her hand crushed his.
“My mom was like you.” He swiped saline over the wound. “I loved her, don’t get me wrong. But she was headstrong. Stubborn. She and my father were well-matched in that. My grandparents were good rulers, good listeners. My parents… They were practically kids when the war started, reckless kids, and they acted as if they ruled the world.”
He bandaged the gash and cleaned another one. Her muscles went taut as disinfectant seeped in.
“I think that’s why your aunt didn’t give us Avington back. My mom pissed off a lot of important people, and she was a foreigner to boot. But she recognized her mistakes and grew from them. I think she deserved a second chance. And…” Zane looked at her back, shredded and bleeding. “So do you.”
