Chapter 9 Bolted Together
Bolted Together
My eyes shot open as I gasped for air, my lungs so desperate that my body lurched forward, sending a fresh wave of searing agony through my body that threatened to pull me under again.
The metallic tang of blood that burned my nostrils did nothing to soothe me as I fought my vision blurring at the edges.
Jaw clenched, eyes now closed, I reminded myself that I was alive.
Forcing my breaths to slow, I focused on the positives, like how the blunt object embedded in my flesh was a mere candle compared to the inferno of having my powers stripped away.
A ghost of a smile tugged up as I heard Tarrin’s voice mocking me for the twisted thought.
With a start, I remembered Endymion wrapping his body over mine to protect me as the arrow careened our way. My eyes flew open. His sculpted face was mere inches away, head back in a lifeless tilt, features hauntingly peaceful.
He didn’t move, and my chest tightened. Swallowing my panic, I glanced down and took in the shaft that now connected us.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, realizing that the arrow had gone straight through him and into me. Steeling myself, I swallowed hard and braced myself before pressing two fingers against his throat. It was faint, but there was a pulse. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Endymion,” I whispered, not wanting to startle him.
Nothing.
My chest fluttered with a heaviness, like an eagle resurfacing from the water with weighted wings trying to take flight—and something about it made me feel…
vulnerable, isolated, scared. The sensation only intensified as I took in his wan features, making me increasingly afraid that his healing abilities were compromised from being tapped.
Gently, I tilted his head toward mine, then held his shoulder with as firm a grip as I could muster.
“Wake up commander,” I demanded and was surprised at how strong and militant my voice sounded.
Slowly, pain crept into his expression before heavy eyelids fluttered, fighting to open. I couldn’t help being overcome with something more than relief as he stirred.
“I’m here,” I breathed, and my grip on him loosened, my thumb now mindlessly caressing his leathers.
He groaned, and I could feel his body starting to coil, fearing it would snap forward like mine had upon waking.
“Don’t move,” I said softly. “You’re injured and shouldn’t move. Not yet.”
In a few breaths, the furrow between his brows cut deep just before his eyes bolted open as if frantically searching for something.
“You’re okay,” I said.
His focus followed my voice, and the instant his panicked eyes found mine, they softened.
“There you are,” I said, echoing the words he’d said to me when I’d come back to him.
The light of memory danced in his eyes, and we held each other’s gaze as if suspended.
Slowly, pain began to creep into his features, and he let out a grunt, then looked down at the weapon tethering us.
When his cerulean gaze met mine again, I could tell the hard edges of the Axelian Army’s leader had reasserted itself, the sight of it bolstering me more than I’d ever admit. I removed my hand from his shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice steady despite the pain etched into his now hardened features.
My brows lifted, and a small scoff slipped through my lips. “Like there’s a massive fae arrow burrowed in my shoulder.”
“Fair,” he said, the side of his mouth ticking up in amusement, its color a pale whisper of what it should be, deepening my concern for him.
His amusement quickly ebbed as he shifted slightly, teeth grinding against the pain.
“The core of the arrow’s shaft is laced with poison,” he explained, getting straight to the point.
“Sometimes, it begins to leak from the impact, so if all you’re feeling is the impalement—then that’s a good sign. ”
Cotton seemed to fill my mouth as I began to understand just how lucky we’d been. “No, it’s a localized pain. Sharp and throbbing, but nothing more sinister.”
He nodded, then looked around us, assessing. He breathed out a gruff grumble of disapproval, pulling attention along his sightline only to find Luca.
My stomach dropped in a sickening fear that forced questions to stay on my tongue.
A few heartbeats later, Endymion’s focus landed on me, and he must have seen the devastation waiting to break free.
“Luca is fine,” he soothed, and a guttural sound of relief tore from my throat.
“Korian must have locked him to prevent you from fleeing. Though, I’m not entirely thrilled that we’ll have to walk back. ”
Relief was instantly swallowed by a sharp pang of confusion, making me side-step the need for clarity on exactly what locked meant. “Korian…” I said, dragging out the word as I clocked the implication. “You… you knew him?”
Endymion dipped his chin once in acknowledgment. “Yes, all seven of them.”
“Seven!” I blurted.
“What do you think took me so long?” he asked, voice even.
“I don’t know, Endymion. I hadn’t exactly taken the time to think about it between you bolting into the woods and being impaled.”
That got a small chuckle out of him, both of us grimacing from the soft ripple of movement.
All humor lost, Endymion held my gaze, and I tensed somehow knowing he was preparing himself.
“I’m not going to like how we get out of this, am I?” I said.
He let out a long sigh before answering. “It’s not something I’m looking forward to either.”
“Well, seeing as how we’re on our own out here, I guess there’s no other option.” Truth was, I’d give anything to be able to valen, or better yet, have someone from the Spring Court come to our aid and heal our wounds.
“And whose fault is that?” he said, cocking a brow.
My brows pinched together, not understanding his meaning. “I’m sorry?”
“Whose fault is it that we’re out here alone?” he said.
I reared back, instantly regretting it as the bolt shifted, but my mounting anger ate up any pain. “You think this is my fault?”
“We would’ve never been out here if it weren’t for your reckless behavior.”
“Reckless,” I scoffed, the sound as bitter as the word tasted in my mouth.
“How fucken rich coming from you. You want to point fingers so badly, fine, let’s.
And while we’re doing it, how about we remember when you promised that the Summer Court was safe?
I know I’m new to this whole fae thing, but where I come from, being impaled by a poisoned arrow does not damn well qualify as safe. ”
His jaw worked for a long moment as if chewing on the warring emotions that flashed across his features faster than a shooting star, and I braced myself for his rebuke, ready to fight.
Jaw stilled, he said, “Point taken.”
I blinked at him, both confused and surprised. “That’s it?” I said, still waiting for the rest.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then loosed a long breath before focusing on me again.
“You’re right. You should be safe to roam as you see fit in the Summer Court, Nyleeria,” he said, words clipped as if they’d pained him to say—and not from his wounds.
“I hadn’t foreseen the wards falling, and I could have explained to you the potential consequences once they had.
For that, I am sorry.” He paused for a moment, letting the apology carry the weight it deserved.
“Thank you,” I said, taken aback.
“I’m not done,” he said. My body tensed, feeling the bite of his words even though they’d been delivered with perfect calm.
“While I own my part in this, I need you to understand just how angry I am with you for being recklessly cavalier in a realm you know nothing about. It would be one thing if you’d grown up ignorant to the wiles of the woods—but you can’t claim ignorance here.
I won’t pretend like I didn’t promise you safety here—because I did—but you don’t get to look me in the eyes and tell me your instincts didn’t warn you not to leave the palace grounds.
That choice you made, to continue anyway, to put yourself in danger, that’s what angers me most, Nyleeria. ”
I stared at him, unable to form a response. We both knew he was right. Hells, even Luca had paused. And damn if the disappointed—no, helpless—plea in his gaze didn’t make my shame double in weight.
The intensity wafting off of him eventually lessened a fraction, his eye softening as if sensing his point was understood. It had.
“So,” I said, softening, “how do we get out of this?”
He didn’t miss a beat before answering, and I was grateful he hadn’t belabored his point. “Do you see the tiny fibers on the shaft that angle toward me?” he said, motioning with the hand that wasn’t pinned under his side.
I looked down and nodded, noting the countless spurs that went in one direction like coarse fur dipped in silver that tapered to impossibly sharp tips.
“Whatever we do,” he said, “we have to move with, not against them. If we do, the tips will shift up and barb into our flesh, which will slowly release the toxin into our bloodstream.”
“Can’t we just snap it in half to separate us, then get help from a healer? At least then we won’t be at risk of the poison.”
“Unfortunately, no. If the shaft is severed or damaged in any way, the poison is instantly sucked into the tips and will flood our bodies within seconds, regardless of if they are fully barbed into us.”
I resisted the fierce shudder at the thought. Unsure if I wanted the answer, I forced myself to ask anyway. “What does the poison do?”
He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Our bodies would convulse before we’d lose all ability to move. Once paralysis kicks in, our magic becomes inert, along with our healing abilities.” His words were so matter-of-fact that the shudder I’d just suppressed broke free, raking down my body.
“Gods above, who would make such a thing!?”
He hesitated, and I already regretted asking before he said, “The Autumn Court.”