CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The iron door of the Space Keep slid shut behind them with a rumbling boom that reverberated in Evylin’s chest. Under the shared weight of Thom’s mutilated body, Evylin and Brea rushed toward the arched windows of the antechamber.
He was heavy, slowly turning to dead weight as the blood drained out of him.
Isla helped ease him to the ground, her face wet with tears. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding,” she said, voice surprisingly even amidst the chaos.
Carefully, Rafferty and Vayden deposited Deckard’s unconscious form beside them. Thom’s wheezing rasped loudly in Evylin’s ear. Her whole body trembled. Tears blurred her vision, but she focused on making her brother-in-law as comfortable as possible.
“It doesn’t matter,” Thom said weakly. His gray-blue eyes shifted around, ensuring everyone had made it out of the Keep.
Rafferty hovered over Evylin’s shoulder, wringing his hands.
Off to the side, Vayden and Isla clung to one another, watching helplessly and openly weeping.
And in the far corner, Ilain sobbed in Ethenn’s arms.
Seeing that their remaining friends were safe, Thom met Evylin’s gaze and offered a resigned smile. “Don’t bother. I’m already dead.”
Her breath caught. Losing Auden was horrible enough. Losing Thom too . . . Deckard would feel the weight of it when he woke. He would be crushed by it, sure that the losses were his fault.
Steadily, Brea checked Thom’s pulse, squatting next to where he was propped upright against the stone wall.
Her dark eyes blazed with fury even as she worked with a steady calm, surveying his stomach wound and broken knee.
“As you just spoke, mi’caro,” she said casually, “I’d say it’s safe to assume you aren’t dead yet. ”
Thom huffed with a straggly, viscous-sounding chuckle. “How much . . . blood . . . have I lost?” he gasped.
Brea gritted her teeth, removing her coat deftly. “Too much.”
“So . . . I’m dead.”
“No, you’re not.” Brea balled the coat and pressed it to the wound.
Thom grimaced at the pressure and the pain. “That’s not . . . gonna work.”
His words grew weaker by the second, and Evylin’s heart stuttered with fright, pain, and dread.
This whole time, she’d feared losing Deckard, and she’d never stopped to consider how heartbroken she’d be to lose Thom.
Especially now that he’d grown so much as a person, righting his wrongs and proving his devotion as a brother.
He was trying so hard. It wasn’t fair to lose him this soon.
“What do we do?” Rafferty demanded. For the first time ever, he looked truly afraid. “How do we save him?”
Brea remained calm as she leaned heavily against the wound. But she also remained silent, which was its own damning reply.
“Evie.” Thom’s hand gripped her arm weakly. “Tell . . . Jonn . . .”
Evylin shook her head and clasped his bloody fingers. “No,” she refused. “No, you are telling him yourself. You are not allowed to die.”
A small, pained grin lifted his lips. “You don’t . . . get that choice.”
“You’re going to live,” she ordered.
Vayden stepped closer. “Is there anything we can do?” he asked through his tears.
Isla brushed a comforting hand along his arm, then turned to Brea. “The blood is soaking through on the right. You’ll have to apply the pressure more evenly,” she instructed.
Brea immediately straddled Thom, pushing down with all her might. She grinned teasingly at him, though Evylin could see a glimmer of tears in the woman’s eyes. “Not how you imagined this moment, eh, mi’caro?”
He wheezed with a laugh that turned into a cough. Red coated his chin as he hacked up more blood.
Brea’s face hardened. She muttered something fierce in Schonese, then glared at him and said, “I’m not letting you die.”
But Evylin could feel Thom’s pulse fading through his wrist. He began to choke, and her heart squeezed. “Thom,” she gasped, seeing the light fade quickly from his eyes.
Then Ilain was there, shoving Brea aside.
Her face was soaked in tears, and her expression was hollow.
But she worked quickly, flinging Brea’s bloodied coat aside and ripping open Thom’s shirt.
The deep, horrid gash spurted more blood, gurgling grotesquely.
Evylin fought a gag and held Thom’s gaze instead of staring at the open wound.
Reaching out to him, Ilain tugged Ethenn closer, then set one hand on the wound while the other gripped the Warrior’s hand like a vise.
A burnt orange light pulsed under her hand, and her shoulders notably slumped while Ethenn drew in a sharp inhale, and he wilted as well.
As the light continued to burn, Evylin realized that Ilain was using his energy—energy that he hardly owned at the moment.
Leaning forward, Evylin set her hand on Ilain’s shoulder to offer what little strength she had left as well. The orange light grew brighter as an immediate surge of power swept out of Evylin.
The magic burned across Thom’s skin, cauterizing the wound and causing him to groan in pain. But his eyes grew wide again, and he sucked in a desperate, lung-filling breath.
At Thom’s regeneration, Ilain immediately began to collapse, but Ethenn caught her. He pulled her close, keeping her upright. Though her lashes fluttered sleepily, she managed to retain consciousness.
Thom’s breathing steadied, his torso now whole, though still slick with blood. He stared at Ilain in awe and gratitude, then squeezed Evylin’s hand tighter, though the pressure was feeble.
“He’s alive!” Rafferty exclaimed.
Thom grimaced. “Not so loud, please,” he said, voice still weak. He met Ilain’s gaze again and whispered, “Thank you.”
Visibly drained and resting against Ethenn’s shoulder, she nodded. “It will take time to heal,” she murmured, tears still coursing down her cheeks. “I produced only enough blood to keep you alive. You’ll be weak for several days, and the wound will ache.”
Thom’s chin dipped. “I’m so sorry, Ilain.”
Ilain blinked but didn’t respond.
Ethenn tugged her closer. “Is anyone going to set that leg?” he asked.
They all avoided looking at his shattered leg, bent unnaturally at the knee.
“I don’t have the energy,” Ilain admitted.
“Even with help?” Brea asked, offering her hand.
Ilain glared at her. “You’ve done enough, don’t you think?”
Brea flinched.
“Ilain,” Isla said gently, “she didn’t mean—”
That furious jade green stare fell on her sister-in-law. “You dare to defend her?” she spat. “She killed Auden, if not by her own hand, then by her negligence. Her preference.”
Isla tightened her jaw, and Vayden’s hand brushed comfortingly across her shoulder. He spoke calmly, though his voice was tight. “His death was an accident, Lainy,” he said, and the words were broken and strained. “No one is at fault.”
Rage seemed to fill Ilain with new life as she sat up, pulling out of Ethenn’s arms. Her posture was rigid, her features taut with sorrow, and her fists curled with fury.
“She made a choice,” Ilain accused. “She abandoned Auden. She suggested this plan in the first place. If we had gone to Estshire first, if she had stayed at Auden’s side—”
“If I had Bonded with him, you mean?” Brea interrupted coldly.
Evylin shifted uncomfortably beside the Warrior. Thom’s hand was still limp in hers, though she could feel subtle signs of strength returning. “Ilain,” he said gently, “if anyone is to blame, it’s me. I was foolish. I thought I could get us out, but—”
“No, Thom,” Brea interrupted. “She’s right. I made a choice. I knew I could either save you or defend Auden. I did what I thought to be best.”
Ilain let out a haughty scoff. “You did what you wanted to do,” she accused. “You chose Thom because of your selfishness.”
Evylin frowned, and Thom’s hand twitched in hers.
Brea’s brow lowered. “I may not have wanted to be your brother’s sacrifice,” she said with a tense fury, “but I did not abandon him out of any ill will.”
“No,” Ilain agreed. “You did it out of your own personal desires.” Her voice rose as she held Brea’s stare accusingly. “You did it because you’re happy to let all of us sacrifice, but Allore forbid you have to make one of your own.”
Behind Ilain, Ethenn’s brow furrowed with the same confusion that Evylin felt. “What is—?” he began, but Isla interrupted.
“Ilain,” she said, her accent thicker than usual, “stop.”
She didn’t listen. “You abandoned Auden to his death because of your love for Thom. Te’caro.”
The allegation was so abrupt and so absurd that Evylin almost scoffed. But Brea sat rigid, her expression void of feeling even as her hand rested gently, caringly against Thom’s broken leg.
Evylin’s lips parted. Te’caro. She didn’t know the translation of the Schonese term, but she recognized the adjusted form of the original mi’caro. She could readily divine the affectionate nature of the pet name.
But love . . . ?
They’d only known one another for a day before Brea began to use that term of endearment for Thom. Could she really have fallen in love with him so readily?
Thom shuddered, his broken body shivering with exhaustion, and Brea pulled her hand away from him. She rose to her feet, glaring at Ilain.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said flatly. “Your grief is blinding you, Ilain. I made the choice I thought was best. It was not my intent to abandon Auden. I had hoped that I could return to his side to protect him too. I’m sorry that I was wrong.”
With that, Brea turned and walked toward the far side of the entrance.
She took a seat on the cold and shadowed staircase, staring at her hands.
Isla squeezed Vayden’s arm, then hurried after her friend.
The two women sat on the staircase, whispering unheard words as they wrapped their arms around one another comfortingly.
Vayden stood in the hall, watching his sister with a compassionate but broken gaze. Ilain, however, shook with anger. She looked ready to burst forth in a rage of flames, but then suddenly she crumpled, sobbing pitifully.