Chapter 1 #2
But Lillian only ever brought kindness.
And now she was in my cell. Touching me, despite her fear. I’d scented her the moment she arrived, but had lacked the strength to lift my head.
Until she’d touched me.
Something had passed through me then and I made myself lift my gaze to hers.
Her eyes were blue. A startling, clear blue that reminded me of the summer sky over the Highlands. And that, more than anything, gave me strength.
But when she prodded my ruined eye, I couldn’t help my hiss of pain. Her worried gaze shot back to mine.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “You will likely lose this eye.”
“Aye.”
My voice was gravelly, long unused. Was this the first I’d spoken in three months? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember many things.
Her blue gaze flickered across my face, as if searching for something. Something I couldn’t give her.
“I am Lillian,” she finally said, turning her attention back to cleaning the blood from my wounds.
I swallowed, my throat raw. “I ken.”
“And you are the Bloodfire Chief.”
“Kragorn.” At her inquisitive glance, I expanded. “My name.”
Her lips parted on a little noise of understanding, and I couldn’t stop myself from studying them. They were small and weak-looking, just like the rest of her. So why were they so intriguing?
“Kragorn,” she repeated, going back to her poking and prodding.
Ah.
At the sound of my name on those lips, my Kteer stirred.
And frankly, ‘twas a good sign. Even in my fevered, confused state, I could recognize my Kteer—that primal, primitive part which pushed me to live—had been silent since my most recent defeat. I owed this human for bringing it back to life.
Slowly, I straightened…or tried to. The chains stretching my arms wide had molded my muscles, although the twinges of pain from the movement were the least of my concerns right now.
To my surprise, she didn’t stiffen in alarm, but merely glanced up at me again. This little female caught my gaze, held it…
And I realized she wasn’t breathing.
“Lillian,” I murmured.
Now she jerked away, dropping her hold on me with a small squeak, scuttling backward as if I could reach for her. Now her breaths came too fast as her wide blue gaze watched warily.
Exhaling, I slumped again.
“You need…” she began then trailed off.
I wasn’t certain what she’d meant to say, but suddenly, she bent to scoop up the bowl from the tray she’d carried.
“Here,” she blurted. “Broth. ‘Twill help you regain your strength. To heal.”
Is that what she wanted?
Is that what these humans—these sadistic, cruel humans—wanted?
But Lillian hadn’t been cruel, had she?
My stomach, which had been empty since my ill-fated escape attempt, cramped with hunger. My throat was dry from thirst.
I thought they were going to let me waste away down here—succumbing to either the fever or starvation. But she had come.
So now, when Lillian approached me with the bowl—her limp more obvious now—I didn’t stubbornly turn away. Instead, I did my best to tip my head back as she eased the bowl to my mouth, the steam from the broth doing almost as much to bring my Kteer back to life as her scent had.
Although I did my best not to slurp greedily, the broth was done far too soon.
“More,” I growled, unable to stop straining against the chains to reach for her.
But she shook her head as she stepped back, gathering up the tray and the linens. “I will try to bring more tomorrow. With poultices, and tea for your pain.”
I managed not to snort derisively, but ‘twas close. What did she expect? For her father to send me a comfortable bed and roast chicken next? There was a reason he’d had me chained to the dungeon wall, my only light coming from the tiny window high above, the one that let in as much snow as sunshine—as it did now.
As Lillian backed away, she glanced up at that window. I saw her frown as she realized what it meant; my cell was open to the elements, and now I could not even huddle beneath the blanket they’d given me.
I knew from the guards’ conversations that Midwinter had come and gone. My people had feasted and lit their fires and celebrated. Had they given up on my return, assuming me dead?
I might as well be.
My Kteer shifted again in my chest, reminding me that I was still alive, for better or worse. I wondered if ‘twas thanks to the tiny female standing before me.
I scraped my tongue across my tusks, gathering what little moisture I could.
“Thank ye,” I rasped, and the concern in her eyes shifted to pity.
Fook.
I didn’t want to be pitied.
Ye’re half-dead, chained in a human’s dungeon, yer face a cursed mess. There’s nae way she doesnae pity ye.
Without speaking, she turned to limp for the cell door—but stopped.
She stared down at the metal tray in her hands.
Then, slowly, she turned to peer up at the tiny window.
Her head twisted, following the path of the light across the floor.
At no point would that light, that sunshine, hit me.
But before, when I could move about freely, I’d followed it across the floor of my cell, desperate for what little warmth it could provide.
Now she limped to the far wall, tucking the cup and bandages into her apron. She propped the tray in the corner, angling it this way and that until she was satisfied.
When she straightened, I winced. Joyfully. For the sparse sunlight coming through the high window was now reflected directly at my chest.
‘Twould only be for a short time each day before the sun continued its journey across the sky…but ‘twould be the highlight of my day.
Assuming I lived.
I watched her limp from my cell, watched the damnable guard lock the bars behind her, and wanted to give her my thanks once more.
That light. ‘Twas not much. But it had filled me with something. Hope, mayhap. Gratitude?
Or mayhap that was her.
Either way, I was suddenly determined to live through the night. To see what tomorrow—and Lillian—would bring.