Page 56 of Promise of Darkness
It has to be the fever dreams. "Of course I didn’t leave you. I— I can hardly uphold my side of the treaty if I left you to die in the snow.”
“Don’t leave me.” His fingers twine with mine. “Not this time. Don’t ever go.”
I stare down at our linked fingers.
He’s fading again. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
“I can’t promise that.” There’s just enough of Maia’s blood in my veins to make oath giving dangerous. “You know I can’t promise that. But I’m not going to leave you here to rot. It’s not as though I know where we are, or how to return to Valerian.”
Thiago turns his head restlessly. “Don’t leave me.”
“Here, you’re burning up.” I reach for the cup of water and a damp cloth.
He thrashes, seeking my hand.
“Curse you, stop!”
There’s no calming him. Sweat dampens his brow as he flings his arm out. I have to practically throw myself atop him to calm him.
“I’m here! I’m here!” I capture his hand, press it to my cheek. “See? You’re not alone.”
Thiago relaxes back into sleep, but I can sense the restlessness within him. Whatever ghosts haunt him, they wield sharp whips.
I can’t help thinking of his wife and the hatred he bears my mother. He’s never told me how the queen took his wife from him, but it’s clear it affects him still.
I lie down beside him, hesitantly resting my head on his shoulder. “I won’t leave you. Not until we find help. I promise.”
This is one promise I can keep.
* * *
After another fitful night,the second morning brings change.
I’m pacing the cabin, wondering what I’m going to do with the prince, when I hear his voice call hesitantly from the other room, “Vi?”
Mother of Night.
Rushing back inside, I gape as the prince struggles up onto his elbows. “You’re alive.”
“Of course, I’m alive.” He looks irritable.
Rust-colored blood mars his bandages, and those wicked-looking tattoos seem to leer at me. I offer him fresh water, which he gulps thirstily.
“Don’t tell me you thought I was dying.” His voice might sound like it’s coming from a raw throat, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes.
“I was hoping.” I say with false bravado. “I nearly left you behind twice.”
“No, you didn’t.” He looks around, hazy recognition dawning in his eyes. “My hunting cabin.”
A disbelieving laugh escapes me. “Of all the paths I picked to follow, I somehow led myself straight to it.”
“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Fate works in mysterious ways.”
There’s something about the way he says it that makes me look at him sharply. “Surely, you don’t believe the old tales—that I was meant to find this place.”
“What do you believe then? We’re in the middle of a fucking forest, Vi. Do you think you just happened to stagger upon the right trail, when I’d given you no more than a general direction?”
The thoughthasplagued me over the days.
