Chapter 19 — Ethan #2
Conan rolls his eyes at her back. “Don’t worry. She’s tough on all the new recruits.”
“I can hear you,” Rhiannon calls without turning around.
He winks at me, unfazed. “You’re doing gr—”
“Quiet.” Rhiannon’s back straightens. She lifts her nose to the air, inhaling deeply. “Something’s wrong.”
The trees reveal nothing unusual. “What is it?”
“A strange scent.” Conan’s nose points skyward, every trace of humor gone from his face. “Not one of ours.”
In an instant, a cloaked figure shoots out from the trees, launching toward us with impossible speed.
My muscles lock. A blur of dark fabric materializes before me, so close the rush of air hits my face.
My brain struggles to process how anyone could move that fast, crossing the distance between the trees and us in the blink of an eye.
A glint of steel catches my eye, a dagger aimed at my chest. I can’t move fast enough to escape it.
In the split second before impact, Rhiannon throws herself between us. The blade sinks into her shoulder. She roars — not in pain, but fury — and grabs the attacker’s wrist.
“Rhiannon!” In a blur of motion, Conan’s body contorts, then transforms. The crack of bones and tearing of clothing rips through the air.
Where a man stood seconds ago, a massive wolf with golden fur now lunges toward the cloaked figure, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.
The sight stops me cold. It’s one thing to know these people can shift, but another entirely to witness it.
Conan’s powerful jaws sink into the figure’s side, but the attacker is surprisingly strong, throwing him off with a powerful kick.
Blood seeps through Rhiannon’s tunic as she twists their arm, trying to disarm them. Conan is back for a second round, and the attacker knows they can’t fend off both of them for long.
They try to escape, but Rhiannon maintains her iron grip on their wrist. During the violent tussle, the sleeve of their cloak slides upward.
I freeze. Blue tattoos spiral up their forearm, intricate patterns that I recognize from earlier.
Shaman markings.
Conan pounces, his claws ripping through their cloak, sending a flurry of dark fabric into the air.
Rhiannon staggers, her grip loosening as blood continues to soak through her tunic. Her strength ebbs with each heartbeat.
I shout her name, moving toward her.
“Stay back!” She yells, eyes flicking to mine with a flash of panicked concern. Concern for me.
The attacker seizes the moment of weakness, twisting hard enough to break free from her grasp. Before either of us can react, they sprint back toward the trees with the same supernatural speed, disappearing into the dense forest from which they came.
“After them!” she commands, but she stumbles, her hand pressed to her wound.
“No,” Conan says as he shifts back into human form. “You’re injured. We need to get you to Olcan. Let me carry you.”
“I’m fine,” she says through gritted teeth, but the blood dripping from her shirt says otherwise.
“Rhiannon,” I say, moving to her side. “You just took a blade for me. Let us help you now.”
Her golden-brown eyes meet mine, fierce and frustrated. “They were targeting you,” she says. “Why would they target you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, supporting her weight as she finally allows herself to lean on me. “But I definitely saw Shaman tattoos on their arm.”
Her eyebrows furrow with worry. “Are you sure?”
I nod, helping her walk as we head back toward the main gate.
Conan’s expression darkens. “If the Shaman are behind this—”
“We don’t know that yet,” Rhiannon cuts him off. “We can’t jump to conclusions.”
“Whoever that was tried to kill Ethan,” Conan argues. “The Shaman are in Kortan for the first time in forever. First Haron is attacked, and now this. It can’t be coincidence.”
The guards at the gate hurry forward the second they see Rhiannon’s condition, rushing to help. She waves them off, insisting she can walk, but I don’t let go of her.
“Tell Dr. Olcan we’re coming,” I say to one of the guards, and she sprints ahead to alert him.
Rhiannon smiles through her pain. “I still find it funny that you and Luna Thea call him ‘Doctor.’ He’s a healer, not a doctor.”
“It’s an Outer Lands thing,” I chuckle.
She winces as we take another step, and I tighten my grip around her waist, pulling her closer to my side. She leans into me a little more, her body relaxing against mine for just a moment before she catches herself. Our eyes meet, and a look passes between us that says everything we can’t.
Conan’s brow ticks up, and he smirks. I half-expect him to make a smartass remark, but he keeps his mouth shut.
“We need to tell Xander about this,” Rhiannon says. “But I want to be there.” Conan nods, but she glares at me. “Don’t tell him without me.”
“Yes, Commander,” I reply.
Dr. Olcan rushes out to meet us, taking in Rhiannon’s injury as he ushers her inside. I try to follow her into the infirmary, but she holds up her good arm to stop me.
“If this is related to Haron or Jayme. . .” She trails off before she can finish the sentence. “Find Branson. Ask him about Jayme. We need answers before someone else gets hurt.”
“But—”
“Ethan, please.” Her eyes soften.
Conan’s hand lands on my shoulder. “I’ll stay with her. I promise I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
I nod, pushing down my concern for Rhiannon as I watch them disappear into the infirmary.