Page 72 of Shadow Wings

Dyter got to his feet and crossed to me. He’d stopped chuckling, like me, but he wasn’t crying or gasping for breath. I sniffed as he pulled me into his embrace, inhaling his familiarsmell.

“You’ll be okay, Rynnie,” he said, rockingme.

I wasn’t okay, and I wasn’t sure I ever would be. I certainly hadn’t beenokayso far. I’d been hurt. So badly. I choked on my words, trying to tell him of myuncertainty.

Dyter didn’t acknowledge my incoherent answer, still rocking me as he repeated, “You’ll dookay.”

An overwhelming pressure rose through my throat, a darkness I’d suppressed for weeks. I struggled to reign it in, but I was too exhausted, too hungry, too emotionally drained to battle it back. The low wail escaped, and the damburst.

A terrible mourning keen drove up from my injured soul, tearing through my chest, searing my throat as it ravaged me. My abrupt introduction to evil escalated to horror I’d never imagined possible. For three months, I’d been tortured, controlled, intimidated, abused, and manipulated. I’d lost my innocence, almost like the girl who’d been protected so well by her mother neverexisted.

I’d lost my naivety and ignorance, and I wantedthatback.

I didn’t want to know nightmares existed. I didn’t want to know I could die. Before, I’d known both of these things, butbefore,I hadn’t understood them. In the dungeons, I’d become not only acquainted with nightmares but intimately familiar with their terror. Death was rapidly becoming my devoted companion, and I seemed impotent to put either of them aside. Why couldn’t I put my fear for these thingsaside?

I grieved, shedding tears for the death of the girl I’d been before entering that foulcastle.

I wept, soaking Dyter’s aketon, draining myself of the pitiful reserve I had left. I cried, and the darkness released and poured out ofme.

I shed every single tear in me as I mourned for what I would neverhave.

I lamented the losses I knew and the ones I had yet to discover. I cried, letting my heartbreak ruleme.

I cried, finally feeling safe to mourn. For tonight, I was in the arms of my father, the only security I knew I could counton.

* * *

Ihadn’t wokenup chilled in days, and confusion clouded my mind as awareness greeted me. Where was I? Why was I so cold? The smell of campfire hung in the air, but there was no firenearby.

Tyrrik. He wasn’t close, or I would be warm. Had I rolled away? Seemed unlikely given my subconscious tendencies. I reached out, but my hand froze mid-air as I fullyawoke.

I should feel lighter after shedding so much of my emotional pain last night, but my head felt filled with bricks from the toll. My eyes were gritty, and I rubbed the salty crust off and blinked themopen.

I was alone in the cave. The filtered light was plenty to illuminate the shallow cavern. Dyter’s pack was propped against a rock, but Dyter was absent. I took a deep breath and heard Tyrrik’s breathhitch.

He was awake. My heartbeat picked up, and Ifelthim several meters in front ofme.

His heartbeat picked up,too.

Tyrrik was watchingme.

“Khosana,” he said. “I know you’reawake.”

I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. To see him now after things had changed. Nervous energy skittered over my skin and deep in my belly. I wanted to go back to sleep, maybe even forever if it meant I didn’t have to deal with the jumble of feelings I had for theDrae.

When we first plummeted from the sky and he’d been awake, caring for him was easy. His near-death experience forced me to realize I didn’t want him dead, and in the heat of the moment, that acknowledgement had been easy and simple. But I would’ve done the same for Arnik, Dyter, and possibly even astranger.

Over the last few days, I’d been Tyrrik’s lifeline. Sure, turns out I did a sucky job of protecting him, but I’d done my best to provide for his every need. I hadn’t hesitated for one moment to do everything I could for him: making nectar, washing his immobile body, pouring nectar down his throat. There was something about his unconsciousness that made the effort uncomplicated, and if I was being honest with myself, being close to him felt right at the time. But that level of intimacy, in retrospect, felt different than healing a wound that would’ve otherwise killedhim.

Tyrrik had been asleep and unaware then, butnowhe was awake. He would not continue to be unaware of anything I did. If I didn’t block him, he would even knowwhy.

Denial doesn’t get you anywhere,Dyter hadsaid.

Butdenialhad been my lifeline since the castle dungeons. To throw that lifeline away felt akin to pulling off my skin to don another person’s:impossible.

“Open your eyes,” Tyrrik said in a low voice as he drew closer. “Please show them to me. I’ve dreamed of them lately, but I know my dreams don’t do themjustice.”

My heart skipped astupidbeat, and I could tell by thestupidhitch in his breath that he’d heard.Stupid Drae-matehormones.