Chapter 9
Tammy
Two hours after the snake bite, and I was starting to panic.
I'd given Ripplan the maximum dose of anti-venom I dared, calculated for his weight, his Orc physiology, everything I knew from helping Jordan treat the Orcs back in Franklin. I couldn't give him more. Not for at least another two hours. Maybe three. The risk of anaphylaxis was too high.
And he was acting like I hadn't given him anything at all.
Western diamondback venom was hemotoxic.
It destroyed red blood cells, damaged tissue, caused massive internal bleeding.
In humans, it could lead to compartment syndrome, pressure building in the muscle compartments until blood flow stopped entirely.
Necrosis. Systemic failure if the venom spread too far, too fast.
I had no idea what it would do to an Orc.
Jordan had told me Orcs metabolized most substances the same as humans, with the notable exception of silver, which was toxic to them.
But venom? Snake venom was a complex cocktail of enzymes and proteins.
Would his Orc physiology fight it off faster?
Or would it spread differently, attack differently?
I didn't know. And not knowing was terrifying.
"It's not that bad," he said through gritted teeth, his jaw so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
"Your leg is swelling." I pressed my fingers gently against the tissue around the bite. The skin felt hot and tight, mottled purple-black spreading up past his knee now. Significant edema. "And you're sweating."
"It's warm in here."
"It's sixty degrees and there's a storm coming." I wiped his forehead with a cool cloth. His skin was clammy, feverish. At least 102, maybe higher. "Stop lying to me."
"I'm not—" He broke off, his breath hitching. Pain flashed across his face before he could hide it.
"Ripplan."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're a stubborn ass who won't admit when he's hurting."
And I was furious with him for it. Furious that he'd thrown himself in front of that snake. Furious that he'd made that choice without asking me, without considering what it would do to me if he died. Furious that I cared so much it felt like my chest was cracking open.
"Pot, meet kettle."
I wanted to hit him. Or kiss him. Or both. Instead, I reached for another vial of antibiotics and filled a fresh syringe.
The venom itself was one problem. Secondary infection was another. Snake mouths were filthy, bacteria and pathogens and God knew what else. If the venom didn't kill him, sepsis might.
Just like it had killed Seth.
My hands shook as I swabbed his arm.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Antibiotics." I pushed the needle in, maybe harder than necessary. "And before you ask, yes, you need it."
"Wasn't going to ask."
"Liar."
The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Then his face went gray and he turned his head, dry-heaving into the bucket I'd placed beside him.
I held his shoulder, feeling the tremors running through his massive frame. His muscles were like iron beneath my hands, but they were shaking hard.
When he finished, I wiped his mouth with a damp cloth and helped him lie back.
"Still fine?" I asked quietly.
He didn't answer.
The tent flap opened and Xrylen ducked inside, rain dripping from his hair. His eyes went immediately to his brother, and I saw the worry flash across his face before he masked it.
"How is he?" Xrylen asked.
"Stubborn," I said. "And getting worse."
"I radioed the ranch." Xrylen crouched beside me, his voice low. "They can send the helicopter. But with this storm..." He glanced toward the tent entrance where lightning flickered in the distance. "They can't fly until morning. Earliest."
My stomach dropped. "Morning."
"Yeah." Xrylen met my eyes, and I saw my own fear reflected back at me. "We're on our own until then."
I looked at Ripplan. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and too fast. The swelling in his leg had spread to his thigh now, the discoloration creeping higher. If it reached his torso, if the venom got into his core circulation...
I couldn't think about that.
"Okay," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Okay. I can work with that."
Xrylen squeezed my shoulder. "He's tough. Tougher than any of us."
"I know."
But tough didn't mean invincible. And I'd worked in the ER in Appalachia long enough.
I'd seen what rattlesnake venom could do to humans.
Strong men. Healthy men. Men who'd died anyway because the venom had spread too fast, because they'd waited too long for treatment, because sometimes medicine just wasn't enough.
After Xrylen left, I checked Ripplan's vitals again. Pulse too fast, 110 or maybe 115. Blood pressure elevated, compensating for the venom's effects on his cardiovascular system. Temperature climbing, 103 now, I was sure of it.
I gave him pain medication, a dose that should have knocked him out, but he barely seemed to notice.
My medical training said to monitor, to wait, to let the anti-venom do its work. But my gut, the part of me that had kept patients alive when the textbooks said they shouldn't be, was screaming that something was wrong. That this wasn't progressing the way it should.
"Talk to me," he said suddenly, his eyes still closed.
"About what?"
"Anything. Just... talk."
I understood. He needed distraction. Something to focus on besides the pain radiating through his body. Besides the fear he wouldn't admit to feeling.
I wrung out the cloth in cool water and pressed it to his forehead. "What do you want to hear?"
"Why you came here." His voice was rough, strained. "The real reason."
I hesitated. Outside, thunder rumbled closer. Rain drummed against the canvas in a steady rhythm that should have been soothing but only made the tent feel smaller, more isolated.
"I wanted something different," I said finally.
"Something more. Franklin was suffocating me.
My ex, Arlo, was suffocating me. And I'd seen what my friends had with their Orc mates.
That kind of devotion. That fierce, protective love.
" I smoothed the cloth across his brow, watching the tension in his jaw ease slightly. "I wanted that for myself."
"So you came to Colorado to find yourself an Orc boyfriend." His lips actually twitched into a smile.
"So I came to Colorado." I smiled despite everything. "And I found this stubborn ass Orc who tried to get himself killed protecting me."
"Not trying to get killed." He cracked one eye open. "Just trying to keep you safe."
"Same thing, apparently."
"Worth it."
My throat tightened. "Don't say that."
"It's true."
"Ripplan—"
"I mean it, Tammy. You're worth it."
The anger flared again, hot and sharp. "You don't get to decide that. You don't get to throw your life away and call it worth it. That's not..." My voice cracked. "That's not fair."
His eye closed again. "Didn't think of it that way."
"Of course you didn't. You just acted. Like an idiot."
"Like someone who cares about you."
The words hit me square in the chest. Air became suddenly difficult to find. My hands froze on his shoulder.
I didn't know how to respond. So I just kept bathing his face, his neck, his chest, trying to bring his fever down, trying to do something, anything, to help. Trying not to think about what he'd just said and what it meant and how terrified I was that it might be true.
He drifted after that. Not quite sleep, not quite unconsciousness.
Somewhere in between. I gave him water when he'd take it, which wasn't often.
Monitored his breathing, still too fast, still too shallow.
Watched the storm intensify outside, lightning splitting the sky, thunder shaking the ground beneath us.
When enough time had passed, two hours and forty-three minutes, I'd been counting, I gave him another dose of anti-venom. He barely stirred.
"Hey," I said softly, touching his face. "Stay with me."
His eyes opened, unfocused. "Still here."
"Good. Keep it that way."
"Bossy."
"You have no idea."
He almost smiled. Then his face twisted in pain and he turned away, retching again. There was nothing left in his stomach, but his body kept trying. Dry heaves that wracked his entire frame, made him gasp for air between spasms.
I held him through it, one hand on his shoulder, the other supporting his head. Whispering things I didn't even remember afterward. Comfort. Reassurance. Lies about how he'd be fine, everything would be fine, just breathe, just hold on.
When he finally settled, I helped him lie back. His skin was burning now, the fever climbing despite everything I'd done. 104, maybe higher. Dangerously high.
If it didn't break soon...
"Talk to me some more," he said, his voice barely audible over the rain.
So I did. I told him about the sunrise that morning, how the mountains had glowed gold and pink.
About Daffodil and how much I loved riding now, how she'd nuzzled my pocket looking for treats.
About Cookie's terrible coffee that tasted like burnt dirt and Dutton's awful jokes that made everyone groan.
About how I understood now why he loved it here, the vastness, the beauty, the way the sky went on forever and made you feel both impossibly small and somehow significant.
"Even with the snakes?" he murmured.
"Even with the snakes."
His breathing evened out. Deepened. I thought he'd finally fallen asleep.
I lay down beside him, careful not to jostle his leg. My hand found his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. Too fast, still too fast, but there. Strong.
Please, I thought. Please don't let this kill him.
The fear hit me then, really hit me.
He could die. Tonight. Right here beside me. Despite the anti-venom, despite the antibiotics, despite everything I'd done. I could lose him before I ever really had him.
And the worst part? Up until now, I'd thought he barely tolerated me.