Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
For someone who dreamed about death nightly, I’d never given the afterlife much thought.
I’d heard everyone else’s opinions on the subject. The eschatological greatest hits, so to speak: heaven, hell, reincarnation, universal consciousness, abject oblivion. But I’d never been able to pick one side over the other.
To me, they all sounded equally plausible and equally ridiculous. And seeing as there was only one way to really know what waited on the other side, speculation seemed like a waste of time.
After all, there was enough in this life to worry about.
But I do have to admit, it never once crossed my mind that death would be so windy.
That was the first sensation that came back to me as flickers of consciousness started to reenter my mind—the feel of the air rushing over my skin and whipping at my hair.
A moment later, I felt a little more. The chill in the air. The damp, foggy feel of it brushing against my cheeks.
Then came the sounds—a fast and steady beat, the hypnotic thump of rhythmic footsteps, the rise and fall of panting breath.
My breath?
No, it couldn’t be. Dead women didn’t need to breathe.
But clearly, whatever was carrying me did.
As time ticked by, I began to feel its arms around me, cradling me close as it whisked me away.
Whatever it was, it was warm. A strangely comforting heat radiated from its body. An inviting kind of comfort that made me want to curl up even deeper into its embrace.
Maybe this was the Grim Reaper come to take me away. The ferryman shuttling me to the other side. An angel flying me up to heaven.
I wanted to open my eyes just to see which mythology had turned out to be true, but my eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds apiece. All my strength had been sapped away.
Oh well. Hopefully, no one cared if you slept all day in heaven.
Except…
If that’s where I was headed, then why did my hips and legs still ache? Why did my ribs feel bruised? And why was my head throbbing like hell?
Something was wrong.
I know there are a lot of differing opinions about the hereafter. Still, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who believes there are headaches in heaven.
Did that mean I was headed to the other place?
Well, that didn’t seem fair.
Sure, I hadn’t lived the life of a saint, but I hadn’t done anything that could be considered truly evil either. No murders. No assaults. No major theft. All of my sins were strictly the boring misdemeanor type, nothing felony level.
But I had to be headed to hell because there was only one other possible reason for the pounding pain in my muscles and bones.
I was still alive.
Oh God, no. I couldn’t be.
I’d been knocked out cold at the ferus’ feet. Powerless. Defenseless. There’d been nothing stopping it from tearing into me like a broken pinata.
So that must have been what happened. Right?
Right?
I tried again to open my eyes, desperate to find either harp-playing angels or pits of burning brimstone, but my body stubbornly refused to cooperate. The most I could force it to do was exhale a pathetic-sounding moan.
The cradling arms tightened in response, pulling me closer to the source of all that deliciously warm strength.
“Hush.”
Oh, shit. That voice—low and rumbly and downright feral. It vibrated through me.
Heaven help me, I wasn’t dead. I was with the monster. He had me in his arms. Suddenly, every sensation came together in my mind, painting the picture my eyes couldn’t see.
The wind was the air rushing past as the alpha carried me. The pounding was the beating of its heart. The warmth was the feel of its massive body as it cradled me against its chest.
For some reason, the ferus hadn’t killed me. It wanted me alive. For now, at least.
My blood ran cold at the thought. I didn’t know where he was taking me or what he planned on doing with me once we got there. I didn’t want to know.
I just wanted to escape—whether on foot or through death, I really didn’t care. Either was preferable to whatever torture the monster had planned for me.
But I was still too dazed from the knock to my head to put up any sort of real fight.
I tried to kick, but only managed to twitch an ankle.
Tried to thrash my way out of his arms but only managed to roll deeper into his embrace.
Tried to scream for help, but couldn’t push anything louder than a groan out from between my lips.
“Shh,” the creature whispered. Its hand gently cupped my shoulder and began to move in small, soothing circles.
Was…was this thing trying to comfort me?
Impossible.
Everyone knew the ferus weren’t capable of complex emotions like caring or empathy. Just like how lions didn’t have sympathy for gazelles, or grizzlies didn’t care about the feelings of the salmon they caught in their jaws.
The ferus were ruthless predators, only concerned with their own survival.
So whatever purpose the creature had for trying to massage my shoulder, I knew in my head it wasn’t for comfort. The only trouble was that the rest of my body refused to listen to reason.
The feel of the ferus’ strong fingers rubbing soft circles into my aching flesh, combined with the steady drum of his heartbeat against my ear, was strangely hypnotic, and I found myself actually relaxing.
Not completely, of course. But enough that I gave up the idea of trying to fight my way free from his grasp. For now, at least.
There’d be time for that later. When I had my strength back. When my muscles didn’t burn, and my head didn’t throb, and I could actually open my eyes. Once that happened, I could kick and bite and scream to my heart’s content.
I didn’t know why the creature had spared me—at least for the time being—but I’d be a fool to refuse the accidental gift he’d given me. Every moment of rest was a moment of recovery. A moment to heal and grow stronger. To prepare myself for the fight to come.
The instant I surrendered to that reality, I felt the near irresistible pull of darkness coming back to claim me. And when it wrapped itself around me, I didn’t struggle. I just focused on the rhythm of the ferus’ strong and steady breath and let it carry me off.
The next time my consciousness poked up out of the abyss, there were two voices—a man’s and a woman’s.
“How is she?”
“Honestly? Not great, but it could be worse.”
Their voices were muffled and distant, like they were making their way to me through a window or thin hotel room walls. I had to focus all my attention on catching the words.
“The good news is her left leg doesn’t appear to be broken, just badly bruised. Unfortunately, her ribs weren’t as resilient. Several of them are cracked all the way through.”
“You’re certain?”
“You doubt my abilities?”
“Never.”
Was that a doctor? It certainly sounded like a doctor. Had a miracle happened? Had I been saved and brought back to civilization?
“What happened to her?”
“The man she was with attacked her.”
A low, rumbling sound filled the room, powerful enough to shake the air around me. It was low and gravelly enough to be a growl, but that was impossible. No animals were allowed in hospitals.
“A kirre did all this to her?”
“Not with his hands. He waited until she was running, then hit her from behind with his vehicle.”
“That sounds like how a kirre would fight.”
What the hell was a kirre? And how did this man know exactly what happened? There had only been three of us out in that field. Me, Franklin, and…
“What did you do to the coward?”
“The only responsible thing. He won’t hurt another woman again.”
“I figured that was his blood staining your clothes.”
Oh, God.
“How long will it take for her to recover from her injuries?”
“I can’t be certain. I’ve never treated a kirre before. They’re surprisingly fragile, you know.”
“Not this one. I’ve seen it. She’s a fighter.”
This was the ferus? There were two of them? And they were talking? Actually conversing beyond single-syllable sounds and one-word sentences? I didn’t think that was possible.
“Her kind don’t usually respond to our medicine, but I’ve wrapped her chest with healing roots and herbs, and brought a bag of boneset tea just in case. There’s no harm in trying, but if you notice any change in her condition, send for me at once.”
“I will. Thank you, Calindra.”
The ferus had their own doctors? A shudder ran through me at the thought. What kind of primitive things had this woman done to me? How much worse were my injuries because of her backwards superstitions?
Drawing in a slow breath, I felt the supporting pressure of the bandage wrapped around my mid-section, just below my breasts. Like a firm hug, the binds kept me from breathing too deeply and stopped the dagger-like pain that had pierced my lungs.
I could feel the poultice she’d rubbed into my side against my skin. Much like the creature’s arms, the mixture radiated gentle heat and soothing comfort.
“Does your father know she’s here?”
“No. Just you and Kyre.”
“He will find out eventually, you know.”
“I know.”
“And what will you do then?”
“Whatever I have to.”
“Right…Well, then I’ll leave you in peace for the rest of the night. I’ll be back at mid-morning to check on her. Try to get some sleep.”
There was the creak of old hinges. Then retreating footfalls. A heavy door clicking into place inside its frame.
Then…nothing.
The silence stretched on so long that I started to think the male ferus—the alpha— had actually left. That I was finally alone.
I was just about to risk another attempt at cracking open an eyelid when I heard the sound of groaning wood. It came from right next to the bed—a floorboard creaking as someone heavy shifted their weight from foot to foot.
I swallowed down my fear as, a few seconds later, a powerful hand wrapped around my palm and held it tight.
There was more warmth. More tingles from the contact of skin on skin. More waves of mesmerizing surrender as the pulse of life running through the creature’s fingers seeped its way into my body.
What was this magic?