Page 6 of A Dream Shrouded in Fury
A strong, gentle hand caught me before I could fall.“I’ve got you.”The voice, feminine and musical, like a quietly played song, tickled my ear.She settled me back where I was and left me again.
I reached out for her, needing something—anything—to anchor me.
There was the sound of something striking stone, then the darkness was broken by the smallest flicker of light.Between the pain and the sudden shock of fragmented shadows, my vision blurred, and my head fell back onto the bed.
“It’s all right,” she said.“The candle’s lit.Sleep now.”
I tried to fight the pull of unconsciousness, not wanting to be lost again, but my body won, and I disappeared.
Every time I opened my eyes after that, I became more aware of where I was.Not that there was much to be aware of.My room was made of rock—walls, floor, ceiling.Based on the firmness of the surface beneath me, the bed may have been too.
But it was more than I’d expected considering I hadn’t thought to wake up at all.Had hoped I wouldn’t.
Where was I and how long had I been here?The lights in the room were soft, the same candles the faceless voice had lit what felt like ages ago flickering.
At the thought of that voice, I stiffened.Had it been her?The epitome of divine-touched beauty that would once have inspired my music?
I turned towards the light and groaned when my head protested the movement.
I closed my eyes until the nausea settled, taking the opportunity to assess my body.My toes wriggled when I bade them, which was a good start.My fingers did the same.Ankles and wrists.Knees and elbows.Shoulders and hips.There was discomfort and stiffness, but the raging agony had subsided.
Although I was relieved, I also couldn’t help but regret that I’d avoided death.I’d been so close to an end after years of suffering.I’d accepted it.But now I was back, and I didn’t understand why.Whoever had saved me, it couldn’t be for any good reason.No one ever did anything out of the goodness of their heart.
Consciousness rolled in and out, the candles sputtering one instant and shining brightly the next.The shifting light told me someone had replaced the tapers, but as time passed, no one disturbed the quiet.Neither the face nor the voice returned.Once, I woke up to fresh bandages wrapped around my middle, the sting of a healing ointment smeared over my wounds, and the faint smell of river water that made me think of cobalt eyes streaked with blood, but still no one was there.
Already, my fae blood was speeding up my healing.I felt it in the itch under my skin, the torturous tug of wounds stitching themselves together, assisted by whatever this stranger had done to me.A bit more rest, a bit more time, and I would be able to shake this haze—and find out what worse hell awaited me.
Kalla
IV
I dabbed the sweat off the fae’s forehead and took another look at the gaping wound in his side.Not long before sunrise, I’d been certain I would watch him take his last breath, not having been able to staunch the bleeding from what had to be multiple pierced organs.His lungs had grated with each intake of air, and his heartbeat had been erratic, going from too quick as his heart attempted to pump more blood to replace what he’d lost to too slow as his body began to shut down.
The closer he’d edged towards death, the more I found myself caught between hope and dread.If his wounds killed him, he wouldn’t be my problem anymore.I wouldn’t have broken the rules—at least not that anyone would need to know about.But he would be dead.
I didn’t understand why it mattered, but every time I imagined those beautiful eyes never opening again, the more something in my chest fought harder to keep him breathing.
Now, as we approached sunset, I was more confident he’d live.The salves I had on hand, made from local herbs and vampire blood, had worked a miracle.Helped, I suspected, by the fae’s own healing capabilities.Some of the smaller wounds had already closed, leaving no trace of the damage he’d taken.The only one still concerning me was where he’d been skewered.
I was grateful Thorn and Cliff already expected me to be away for a few days.This fae would need at least that long to recover, and I would need potentially longer to get the information I wanted from him.Once I did… Well, then I could decide what to do with him.
Guilt squeezed my insides at the thought of my fury leader and best friend.They believed I’d come here to shake off my restlessness and would expect me to return home ready to embrace my duty.Instead, I was using my time to hide my crimes from them, ignoring duty altogether.
My stomach roiled with the pain of betraying them, but I reminded myself that my rebellion was temporary.And that they didn’t need to know.
I then rebandaged my patient and set about rinsing the bloodstained rags.My eyelids sagged with exhaustion, but I wasn’t ready to sleep.Not until I was sure I wouldn’t wake up to find a dead fae in my bed.
He held all my attention, even as I ordered myself to stay detached.I hadn’t saved him out of mercy; I was a cold, ruthless scout.My purpose was to gain information to benefit my community.As soon as he shared everything he knew, I would drain him and bury his body.Staying detached was practical.If I happened to learn something about the world beyond my mountains, that was a lucky bonus.
But the more I fought to limit my contact, the more I found myself touching him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, smoothing his blankets, fluffing his pillow.I’d worked carefully to undress him once I’d gotten him into bed, not wanting to cause any extra damage, and while moving him, I’d done my best to keep my gaze averted, but all I wanted to do was stare.Everything about him—from the points of his ears to the warmth of his skin—was so novel that I couldn’t stay away.
If I’d thought he was stunning at first glance, it was nothing to seeing him under the soft candlelight.His body was perfection, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist, defined muscles, and solid limbs.He obviously trained his body to fight, if my assumptions about the battle in the woods was correct.
We’d been taught that the fae were dangerous.Born beautiful to lure in their victims, just as vampires were, but where we attacked with brutal efficiency, pumping our victims full of venom to turn their pain to pleasure, fae worked in promises, making bargains, lulling the unwary into a false sense of security.When he woke, I would need to be on my guard to maintain the upper hand.Nothing about this fae was worth bargaining for.
I watched him sleep, followed the rise and fall of his breaths, as shallow and shuddering as they were.His long eyelashes fluttered, but he never made it as far as waking up.The candlelight flickered across his hair, adding streaks of gold to the white-blond, and I fought the temptation to run my fingers through it.I already knew how soft it was, having touched it when I’d removed his hood and washed out the blood.
Just like I knew the feel of his skin, the flex of muscle beneath it, and the ridges of the numerous scars that lined his body.
