27. Haze
Haze
M y skin tingles where I touched her.
I broke our agreement. She’d asked me not to touch her, and I intended to agree. But then, she was panicking and I?—
We cannot keep the priestess waiting.
The girl already hates me; what more do I expect? Will she hold it against me?
We reach the final hall before the throne room, and I stop to allow her a moment to mentally prepare.
Her little gasp echoes in my skull.
“They won’t harm you,” I tell her.
When she doesn’t respond, I lead the way down a long line of Drak warriors. They stand at attention, watching us with dark eyes, eagerly awaiting my failure.
Ivar is respected. I am not.
Our steps reverberate through the otherwise silent hall. One hundred feet. More than a hundred warriors of varying rank, each with a sword in his hand.
When I pass Ronan and Maddox, they dip their chin in silent solidarity.
It is the only camaraderie I will find with these men.
Only them, because they have seen that my differences have purpose.
They have benefited from my healing and seen my dedication to their wellbeing, even if I am not a warrior in the same way.
My reputation is especially low right now, since I failed to save one of my own recently. What is the purpose of a healer if squad members still die? The others don’t know that Mikael refused to accept my help in his final hours. He chose death rather than let me aid him.
I allowed him to make that choice.
They also don’t know that Ivar is the reason he was infected to begin with. He does not care for the wellbeing of his own men. He cares about his reputation and nothing more.
Lina sticks close to my side, her heartbeat rapid.
The men smell her fear as I do. I clench my fists, but my step only falters when I find a pair of eyes that sets my blood boiling.
His lips don’t move, but his eyes speak. You’re going to fail, they say, and when you do, she’ll be mine.