Chapter 6
ELLIE
The storm had torn through our camp like a divine reminder that we didn’t belong in this world.
I stood at the very edge of the valley, keeping away from the rushing water and trying to make sense of the devastation.
Two of our three tents were just... gone.
Vanished. The third hung in shreds from a broken pine branch, the fabric flapping uselessly in the cold morning wind.
Our supply cache had been scattered across fifty yards of muddy ground—protein bars trampled into the dirt, water bottles half-buried in silt, the medical kit split open with its contents strewn like confetti, completely useless.
My hands were shaking. I shoved them into my jacket pockets and tried to breathe. My right thigh throbbed with every shift of weight—the makeshift bandage I'd tied around it was already soaked through, the fabric of my torn trousers sticking to the wound beneath. I’d deal with it later.
"Ellie!"
I turned to see Nathan waving me over, his expression grim.
He’d found something. I forced my legs to move, following him along the swollen riverbank.
Each step sent a fresh spike of pain through my thigh, but I gritted my teeth and kept going.
The water was still running high and fast, churning with debris—branches, leaves, chunks of torn earth.
Dev had managed to drag himself up to a small rocky outcropping with mine and Megan’s help, and he leaned over watching Nathan, his face pale with pain.
Megan stood a few feet away, her arms wrapped around herself, tears running down her face.
Huh. I guess she did have feelings after all.
Then I saw Stephen.
His body had washed up against a fallen log about thirty yards downstream, tangled in the branches like driftwood. His head was at an angle that made my chest tighten, and even from this distance I could see the gray pallor of his skin.
"Oh no," I whispered.
It took all four of us to pull Stephen's body free of the river.
The water had made him heavy, waterlogged, and my hands kept slipping on his jacket.
My leg screamed in protest every time and by the time we'd dragged Stephen onto dry ground, I was soaking wet and shivering so hard my teeth chattered.
The bandage around my thigh had come loose, trailing against my torn trousers and I felt the warm trickle of fresh blood down my skin.
Nathan knelt beside the body. "Ellie, absorb whatever power he has left."
"What?"
"His magic. We can't afford to waste it." Nathan's tone was flat. "You're the only one who can. Do it."
"Nathan, he's been dead for hours…"
"Do it anyway."
I stared at him, horror and fury warring in my chest, but I was too tired, too cold, and too shaken to argue. I knelt beside Stephen's body, my wounded leg folding awkwardly beneath me, and had to bite back a whimper. My hands hovered over his chest.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
I reached for the stored magic, a mental pull like drawing on a thread.
For a moment I felt nothing, just cold flesh and the sick knowledge that I was literally draining a corpse.
Then it came. A rush of power, clean and bright and easy, flooding into me.
More than I’d take from the living volunteers back in the lab.
I yanked my hands back, gasping.
"How much?" Nathan asked.
"I got what I could." I was starting to trust him less than I had before, and for some reason, I didn’t want to tell him I’d absorbed everything. Nathan just nodded, already moving on.
"Good. We need to salvage what we can and make a plan. Leave him here. There’s nothing we can do for him now."
“Can’t we bury him?” I asked, hating to just abandon the man that I’d laughed and joked with the night before.
"With what? Our hands? The ground is frozen six inches down and we don't have tools. We don't have time."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
I looked down at Stephen's face. His eyes were closed, at least. The river had done that much for him.
His hair was plastered to his forehead, dark with water and mud, and there was a deep gash along his temple where something—a rock, a branch—had struck him.
I wondered if that had killed him, or if it had been the cold, or the water in his lungs.
"Stephen," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I reached down and closed his jacket, smoothing the fabric over his chest with hands that wouldn't stop trembling.
It was a stupid gesture, but it was all I had.
I couldn't bury him. I couldn't even say the right words because I didn't know what they were.
So I zipped his jacket and pressed my palm flat against his chest where the magic had been, and closed my eyes.
I had no faith of my own, but I sent out a plea to whatever gods resided in this place that they watch over him, wherever he was now.
Then I stood, ignoring the fresh pain in my leg, and turned my back on him.
The inventory took less than twenty minutes because there was almost nothing left to inventory.
Nathan had his pack. The scanner had a crack running down the casing, but when Nathan powered it on, the display flickered to life.
Megan had managed to save one of the food packs, but the rest was gone.
The tents, the extra clothing, the backup medical supplies, — all swept away or destroyed.
"That's it?" I asked, staring at the single pack.
"That's it." Megan's voice was steady, but her face was drawn. "Maybe three weeks' worth, four if we ration carefully."
We stood in a rough circle, staring at our pathetic pile of salvage. Dev was sitting on a fallen log about twenty yards away, his broken leg stretched out in front of him. His face was grey with pain, but he hadn't complained once. That somehow made it worse.
"We need to go back," I said, shifting my weight off my bad leg. "Back to the stone circle. Abort the mission and return to our own time."
"No." Nathan's response was immediate.
"Nathan, look around! We don't have enough supplies to make it to the source and back. Stephen's dead. Dev's leg is broken."
"We have enough. We'll ration carefully and forage as we go. The mission continues."
"Are you insane? We're barely holding together. We need to retreat, regroup, and come back with proper support."
"The drain on our magic won't wait for us," Nathan said coldly.
"If we abort now, it could be months before we can attempt another jump.
Maybe longer. And we might not be able to raise enough power to even attempt it a second time.
The world is dying, Ells. We're here, we're alive, and we have what we need to complete the objective. "
"We don't have shit," I snapped. "We have three weeks of food, no shelter, and a team member with a broken leg who needs medical attention!"
"Dev can manage."
"He can't even walk!"
"Then he'll stay behind."
I stared at Nathan, certain I'd misheard. "What?"
"Dev stays here. You take his power. The three of us continue to the source." Nathan's expression was carved from ice. "It's the logical choice. We move faster, use fewer resources, and he'll be safe here until we return."
"Safe?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Nathan, he can't possibly survive out here alone with a broken leg! He'll starve or…or a predator will find him, or…"
"Then I'll give him the choice of a clean ending."
I felt like I'd been punched in the chest. But Nathan's face was perfectly calm. Like he'd just proposed a minor logistical adjustment instead of executing a colleague.
Even Megan looked shocked.
“Nathan-” He cut her off with a glance, and she immediately went quiet.
"You're talking about murdering him," I said, my voice shaking. "You're talking about leaving him behind to die, or… or killing him yourself if he can't…"
"I'm talking about making the hard choices that leadership requires.
" Nathan's voice was sharp now, though he kept it low so Dev couldn’t hear us.
"The mission is bigger than any individual life, Ellie.
Including Dev's. Including yours. We came here to find the source of the magical drain, and that's what we're going to do. "
"Fuck the mission!" The words burst out of me, hot and furious. "Stephen is dead! Dev is hurt! We're not—"
"Ellie." Nathan's hand closed around my upper arm, dragging me closer, his grip tight enough to hurt.
“Listen to me very carefully," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I am the team leader. Not you. Not Dev.
Me. And I make the calls about what risks we take and what sacrifices we make. Do you understand?"
"Nathan—"
"The mission is more important than individual lives.
That's not cruelty, that's reality. If we fail here, if we don't find the source and stop whatever is happening to our world, thousands of people could die.
Maybe more. So yes, if that means leaving Dev behind, I'll do it.
And if that means giving him a clean death instead of a slow one, I'll do that too. "
I felt sick. "You can't—"
"I can." His fingers tightened. "And I will. You're too soft, Ellie. It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t take you as my mate.
You care too much about individuals and not enough about the bigger picture.
Now," his voice softened slightly, though his grip didn't loosen.
"Are you going to be part of this team, or are you going to keep questioning every decision I make? "
I wanted to spit in his face, tell him that he was a monster, but before I could form the words, a low, menacing growl that turned my blood to ice cut through the air. Nathan released my arm instantly, spinning toward the sound.
Wolves. But not like any wolves I'd ever seen. These were massive—shoulder height easily reaching my waist, maybe higher, with broad skulls and thick, powerful limbs built for bringing down prey that no longer existed in my time. Dire wolves.