Page 92 of First Ritual
Wild.
I closed it again. Had no choice. Exhaustion weighed down my limbs, and the motivation or strength to walk, to speak, or to care about why Wild carried me was gone. Apparently with my clothes.
That weight, that exhaustion, was something I’d learned to avoid and fear. Because when it came, my will was seized and locked up.
Chaos.
Tears fell without resistance across my temples.
“Cry if you need to, Tempest,” Wild told me. “You’re safe, and I’m going to get you cleaned up.”
I’d woken this way four times in my life. I knew I’d look like the version of a cavewoman no one wanted to dress as on Halloween. That had never bothered me. There was something reassuring about looking the same as you felt. Matted hair. Tangled twigs. Mud. Broken nails. Blood.
Snapped teeth.
Scratch marks.
You name it.
With Wild as a witness, I might have considered feeling embarrassed, but the other good thing about such exhaustion? I just didn’t care.
Yet those were the words that terrified me. I didn’t care. When those entered my mind, my insides shook with the climbing work ahead of me.
“I’m sorry,” Wild said, his voice catching. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. I thought me being there would be enough. I didn’t realize how bad it was.” Pain filled his voice. “I felt everything like I was you.” He sucked in a breath. “How do you manage to stay you with all that inside?”
I was playing one big game of pretend. That’s how.
We entered a cave, and I sighed when the heat in the air whispered over my cold, broken skin. Hot springs.
“Not the spring everyone goes to on a Sunday,” he answered as if cognizant of my curiosity. “This pool is on the outskirts of the forest in the mountains. I portal up here sometimes.”
Wild’s magic flared, and three floating balls of red flame appeared to light the cave.
I worked my throat a few times, then rasped, “Go far?”
Fully clothed, Wild stepped down into the water, then eased me in as he sat on a ledge by the lip of the single pool. I winced as water stung at the wounds on my feet, knees, and… pretty much everywhere, really.
“You made a portal,” he answered. “Sulfur. Old-school.”
I stared at him from my position on his lap. He’d hooked one of his arms under my knees, and the other cradled my head. “Where?”
“An alpine forest. The trees were different. I don’t believe we were anywhere close to the coven.”
“How did you—” I swallowed. “—find me?”
A quiet sigh. “I’ve been able to find you since our magic met. To begin with the direction was vague. I didn’t know what the urge was until I followed the awareness a few times and was led to you. Since the kiss and our runes appearing, I can pinpoint where you are at all times.”
The weirdness of that didn’t register in my current state.
Wild summoned a washcloth. “May I?”
My insides quailed at the extra layer of vulnerability. I was barely holding it together.
“It would help me feel less sorry for you,” he added.
The tightness in my chest eased at his attempt at humor. I nodded, watching him warily as he set about wiping my forehead and cheeks.
He kept talking. “I set a marker on the location so we can explore why you went there—if there’s a reason. I would have looked around more at the time, but I had my hands full trying to help you.”