FANE
Agonizing, blistering, white-hot pain. It filled my mind and body, refusing to back down. My eyes shot open as I gasped, but it didn’t stop. I was on my side, rattled back and forth, with hands cradling my head.
Which was in Sakala’s lap. Perhaps it all wasn’t so bad.
“Oh no, I was hoping you wouldn’t wake up.”
Normally, I would have relished the worry in her voice, or at the very least teased her for admitting she was worried about me. This pain, however, was nothing to tease anyone over. Something must be very wrong with me.
I tried to move my wings out of instinct and retched as a fresh wave of agony overtook me. Sakala’s fingers gently stroked through my hair in sympathy as she helped keep my head to the side. I was too miserable to be embarrassed.
And Sakala looked like someone had tossed her off the top of the volcano.
“You look like shit,” I rasped.
To my delight, her eyes lit up, and she laughed. “You ass. We’re in Dorea. You did it; you got us out of the palace. I got us the rest of the way.”
My eyebrows rose; it seemed she’d done more work out of the two of us! I held out my wrist, waving it under her mouth.
“D-drink some to get energy. I—”
“Fane. Stop. Your left wing is broken. There’s a tear in your right one. It’s … it’s terrible. You need all your blood.”
Oh. That would explain why life was currently excruciating.
“Besides,” she continued, not looking at me, “we’re not mates. Only mates share blood. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes lingered guiltily on my wings, silencing my objections. She was considering it, but only to heal me.
I wouldn’t do that to her.
When Sakala finally realized we were mates, she would come to me enthusiastic and ready. It wouldn’t be out of a sense of duty or guilt, even if I lay dying. And if she never did … then … ok. I refused to make her do anything she didn’t want. It hadn’t worked when we were children, and it wouldn’t work now.
And I suddenly found doing anything she didn’t want abhorrent.
I made a silent vow: I’d do my duty to protect her in this strange land, ride out the shit storm that would likely follow our disappearance from Lyoness, and then support her in whatever she wanted to do afterwards.
“Am I … are we in a cart?”
We hit a hole in the road, and my wing bumped against the side of the cart, jarring it. I hissed in pain.
Sakala shot my wings an anxious glance and squeezed my hand. “Davos is a farmer who found us unconscious along the shore. He thinks he’s doing his civic duty by caring for the injured drakens who washed up in his kingdom. Something about a treaty …”
I struggled to hear what she said next, something about ‘being sick of goddamn treaties,’ but that made little sense, didn’t it?
“Where are we going?” I asked when it was apparent she wouldn’t say anything else. I assumed this ‘Davos’ man was driving the cart, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to turn around and look.
“His home to get cleaned up, then the castle,” Sakala muttered, looking about as thrilled as I felt.
“Oh,” I said, because that was all I could manage in the moment. I had no experience dealing with … humans. Father didn’t let them come to the island—not that they’d get past our sirens or through our protective blood wards, anyway. All I knew was from the muttered complaints I’d heard around our dinner table; they hated dealing with us in our true forms, and demanded we ‘look like them.’ They were rude and blunt, and angry they couldn’t pay us to erect our bloodwards around their own lands and castles. That wasn’t how bloodmagick worked, but humans couldn’t possibly understand; they didn’t have magick of their own.
Sakala said my wing had broken, but it didn’t seem as bad as all that. The pain was fading, and a glorious numb feeling was stretching across my body even as my heart rate increased and it forced me to take quick, shallow breaths.
“Fane. Fane! We need to hurry! He’s getting worse!”
A hand touched my forehead and drew away quickly. “His skin is getting cold and clammy! How much further?”
I didn’t hear his answer. It didn’t seem that important. My eyes drifted shut, and falling asleep seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do. The pain wouldn’t be as bad, and I wouldn’t feel the jostling of the cart as much: a win-win.
A small hand slipped into mine and squeezed hard enough that I cracked an eye open. Sakala’s bright purple eyes were wide and worried.
“I always liked your eyes,” I slurred at her. It seemed important that I told her.
“Fuck this. A little won’t hurt, right? We’ve already shared some. As long as we don’t … you know … seal the deal, it’s fine.”
I don’t think she was talking to me or the human. She was trying to convince herself of something. What? I had no idea.
I yawned and closed my eyes again. Sakala was a smart girl; she’d figure it out. And she was beautiful. And strong. And—
Something pushed against my lips, and hot, glorious blood dripped into my mouth. Without thinking, I bit down, sinking my fangs into warm flesh.
Sakala grunted in pain, and my eyes shot open as I was suddenly wide awake. My inner draken roared, his instincts flaring as I ripped away from her wrist, spitting her blood out.
“No … no,” I protested, willing her to understand. I wouldn’t force her to do anything. I refused to let her heal me like a mate would if that wasn’t what she wanted.
“Quit being stubborn!” She hissed at me, but tears glimmered from the corners of her eyes. I slammed my mouth shut and rolled to my side, away from her. Her wrist bled sluggishly out onto the wood of the cart and stopped quickly. I grabbed at it and licked the wound closed, letting it drop back to her knee.
I grinned stupidly at my victory, however small. It was my first one.
“I … win.”
“Stubborn ass,” she mumbled to no one, tucking her knees to her chest and resting her head on her knees. Her hand brushed my brow again as she studied me. “At least you got enough that you’ve stopped slipping into shock.” She smacked my cheek lightly. “You will take my blood if it’s a matter of life and death.”
“Make me …” I yawned again.
Her eyes rolled. “Go to sleep, oh, great champion.”
Finally, she was making sense. It would only be polite to oblige, wouldn’t it? My eyes closed.