Chapter 4 #2
Something about him gave me pause. Not just his reckless bravery—charging a vuk—but the way he’d looked at me before the fight began. Like he didn’t see me as an enemy. Knew me. Or maybe I imagined that.
Mother’s voice echoed in my mind, calm and unwavering: A debt of a life is always paid with a life. Anything less invites ruin.
It wasn’t just the Pendaran belief—it was survival. Refusing a life debt invoked a curse, the kind no Pendaran could outrun. Mother had seen it firsthand, and I’d grown up on her warnings.
Still, it wasn’t curses or tradition that twisted my resolve—it was Esme. The memory of her cries as she was taken clawed at my thoughts. I’d failed her because I’d hesitated, because I’d tried to weigh my options when action was needed.
Esme’s absence pressed against me like a second shadow. Guilt had been my constant companion these past five weeks, whispering reminders of my failure. If I left this man to die, would I ever shake that guilt? Or would it twist into something even darker, another voice reminding me of my cowardice?
Not this time.
I bit down hard on my lip and sheathed my dagger. If I had to face Seth’s wrath, so be it. I wouldn’t let another life slip through my fingers.
Even if that life belonged to someone who might kill me when he woke.
The Lirien groaned, his head lolling to the side. Up close, his features were sharper, more defined, though exhaustion and pain had etched lines into his handsome face. A warrior, no doubt, but not one who’d expected to end up here.
His piercing blue-green eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused at first. Then they snapped to mine, sharp and assessing despite the blood caking his skin.
“Still alive?” I asked.
“Barely,” he rasped, his voice like gravel. His gaze darted past me to the dead vuk, then back, narrowing slightly as if piecing together what had happened. “You … didn’t run.”
“I don’t run.” The words came out sharper than I intended. I didn’t like the way his words made me feel. Like he expected me to abandon him.
His lips twitched, almost a smirk. “Good. Makes saving you less of a waste.”
I bristled, stepping back. “Saving me? You nearly got yourself killed, and now I have to drag you back to camp before something else finds us.”
He grimaced, trying to sit up, but his body betrayed him, sagging back to the ground. “Camp? What camp?”
“Mine.” The word was curt. Let him think I was leading him somewhere safe—or to his execution. It didn’t matter. I crouched and started packing the makeshift bandages more tightly around his wounds. “You’re lucky I’m not leaving you for the scavengers.”
He winced but didn’t complain. Instead, his gaze lingered on me, uncomfortably sharp, as if cataloging every detail—the braid falling over my shoulder, the curve of my dagger’s hilt, the tension in my jaw.
“You’re not like the others,” he said finally.
I froze, hands hovering over the bandage. “What others?”
“The Viori. You don’t move like them.”
My pulse kicked, but I kept my expression neutral. “And you know how the Viori move?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve seen enough.”
I yanked the bandage tight, earning a sharp inhale of pain. “You talk too much for someone who’s bleeding out.”
A dry chuckle sent a faint shiver down my spine. “And you’re too kind for someone who doesn’t run.”
I scowled, standing and taking a step back. He’s dangerous. Not just because of the sword still jutting from the vuk or the tattoo marking him, but because of the way he looked at me—like he saw through me, past the layers I kept so carefully guarded.
“Don’t mistake this for kindness,” I said coldly. “I’m paying a debt, nothing more.”
A faint smile ghosted his lips. “Sure.”
I didn’t answer. There was no point.
Instead, I laid out my compact bedroll and helped him shift onto it. Then I strapped him to it with a rope. He didn’t resist, though his eyes followed every movement. When I was done, I stood, rolling my shoulders and bracing for the long trek ahead.
“If you’re smart,” I said without looking at him, “you’ll stop talking and focus on staying alive.”
“Smart,” he murmured, voice almost amused. “I’ll try to remember that.”
I ignored him and hoisted the bedroll’s edge. His weight strained my muscles, but I gritted my teeth and started dragging him through the frost-covered forest. This wasn’t for him, it was for me—for whatever shred of honor I had left.
Behind me, his voice came again, softer now, almost to himself.
“You don’t run,” he repeated. “Good.”
When I checked on him again, his eyes were closed.
The weight of the Lirien quickly became unbearable, each step a battle against my own exhaustion. Cold seeped into my bones, the strain of pulling his unconscious form made my shoulders ache, but it wasn’t the physical effort that made my breath hitch.
It was the thought of Seth.
He would kill this man on sight. No questions. No mercy.
The image flashed in my mind: Seth’s face, sharp with anger, his voice cutting like a blade. Why did you bring a Pendaran soldier into our territory? Why didn’t you finish him when you had the chance? Why risk everything?
The rational part of me couldn’t argue with him. I should have left the Lirien there, dead or alive. I owed him nothing but the curse that would have followed me if I hadn’t paid the life debt. A curse Seth wouldn’t believe in. A curse I didn’t fully understand.
The forest around me remained silent, save for the soft scrape of the bedroll over leaves and roots. My thoughts filled the emptiness, a churning mix of dread and determination.
What if this man is a threat? I glanced over my shoulder at his bloodied face, slack with unconsciousness. He didn’t look dangerous now, but I couldn’t forget the way he’d moved in the fight. Fast. Precise. Deadly.
Yet not to me. He could have let the vuk finish me off, saved himself the effort of fighting it. Instead, he’d risked his life—and nearly lost it—for mine.
My lips pressed into a hard line. That didn’t mean I trusted him. It just meant I owed him, and that debt had to be paid.
Seth would see my choice as a betrayal. A weakness.
What if he was right? What if I was too weak for this, too soft for the Vangar?
The Lirien groaned, stirring against the ropes on the bedroll. I stiffened momentarily before realizing he wasn’t waking—just slipping deeper into unconsciousness. Still, I couldn’t let my guard down. Not now. Not ever.
The camp was a far distance. I had time to figure out what to say to Seth, how to convince him not to kill this man before I could repay the debt. Time to figure out if I even believed my own excuses.
But deep down, I already knew the truth: no amount of preparation would change Seth’s mind. Bringing this man into Viori territory was as good as handing him a death sentence.
And still, I kept walking.