Someone makes a worried hum sound from my left – Roarke. “They’re back, Kitten, if you can open your eyes.”
Do I have to?
Two men and two horses approach. I’ve got no idea how deciphering rustles and thumps into four independent creatures moving over the soft earth became something I can do. Not four – five. Even though Pax and Thane only have one heartbeat, I can feel both of them.
They stop nearby, dismounting with belt jingles and soft boot thumps, as one of the horses snorts and paws at the ground. I’m not sure where we are, but I feel like I’m down low, possibly even on the ground. The air’s cool and calm. Nothing but the gentle sounds of nature.
Seth snorts, startling awake underneath me, and I open my eyes to Killian – not even a handspan from my face.
He bares his teeth and growls. “Stop trying to die, or I’m going to kill you.”
Then he marches off.
Pax shoots me a fleeting glance from beside his mount but doesn’t approach. He stays by the horses, unbuckling some things and rearranging others with determination on his face. If he’s not going to come to me, then I have to go to him.
So I try to sit up, only to have Roarke push me back into Seth’s arms saying, “Shhh.”
“Shhh, yourself, Roarke. Why is Pax taking the bags off my horse and putting them on yours?”
“Because yours is injured,” Seth says, his voice heavy and still sleepy underneath me. “Are you in pain?”
He wraps his arm around me and settles me into my original position. He has one leg stretched long on the moss-covered ground, the other bent and tucked underneath my ass. With a sigh, he shifts to free his trapped leg and stretch it out.
How long have we been here? Here, which appears to be some kind of cave made from vines.
My hair lifts off my neck, and I realize Seth’s hooked it to the side to expose my neck, specifically the back of my neck. The gentle touch of his fingers sends a shiver down my spine.
“Vexy, answer me, are you in pain?”
”No,” I say, shaking my head.
I ache, but I wouldn’t call that pain, and I have a variety of experience to compare it to.
Pax and Killian look not quite healthy, but certainly uninjured, as they work together to sort the horses out, and Roarke looks confused but otherwise fine. They’re talking in hushed tones between themselves and occasionally shooting glances across at me.
They’re okay. Every single one of them is okay.
“Why are we camping?” I ask, rolling onto my side and closing my eyes. Before I realize what I'm doing, I’ve begun to doze back off to sleep.
Seth tucks my hair behind my ear and leans in to whisper, “Because we need to ride for the White Castle, and you need to ride somewhere safe to recover.”
I sit up so sharply that my ass slips out of Seth’s lap and the rest of me follows. I land flat on my back beside him, sending a sharp bolt of pain from the base of my spine up to my left shoulder.
I groan, my back arching, trying to roll onto my right side, struggling, and failing.
Seth leans over me, lacing his hand along my spine and gently cradling me up and into his arms.
I gasp as the pressure releases, and the ache subsides.
“She’s fine,” Killian grunts.
“She’s gone white,” Seth says, his hand cupping my cheek and his eyes searching mine.
I swallow, forcing myself to concentrate on the pain. On the way it laces down from my shoulder through my back. Each rib echoing the remnants of damage. Concentrating helps me stay conscious, and I move my mind away from the parts of me that hurt to focus on things that don’t.
I’m wearing Pax’s shirt – that’s nothing new, but I wasn’t wearing this particular light blue Silvari cotton garment when I passed out. I’m still in the same pants, though, with blood splatters stained permanently here and there. I run my fingers over my lips, looking for blood. Seth traces them with his thumb, soft, concerned.
“We washed your face,” he says.
Crap, he looks scared.
The back of my shirt starts to lift, and I try to swivel. Cool air brushes against my skin followed quickly by Pax’s warm fingers.
“Pax,” I gasp, squirming.
He can’t see my back. I can’t deal with him losing his shit right now. His brothers need him – I need him.
“Shhh, Kitten. He’s seen them,” Roarke says, kneeling on my other side.
Killian doesn’t move, fixing a bow and arrows and a spare sword over the top of the packs.
Pax’s fingers run down my spine, sparking tingles that fill my concentration.
“Killian,” Pax rumbles, and finally, the big guy walks back over.
The others make space, and before I know it, Killian starts pressing firmly into muscles that were barely ready for gentle – and may never be ready for firm. He kneads my shoulder joint, making the arm move, lifting it into the air. I hiss, but I don’t struggle.
“Can someone please tell me what happened?” I ask when there’s a gap in the pain.
“ShimmerSeed cut you down,” Killian provides. “You should be dead.”
“Fuck being dead.”
Seth chuckles, and Roarke runs a hand through his messy hair, with half a smile on his lips, but all four of my guys stare at me.
“I mean it,” I say, adding a wince as Killian presses on my spine.
“Do you need me?” Roarke asks.
Killian fans both hands over my ribs, stopping me from being able to breathe.
I snatch Roarke’s hand. For a long moment, no one says anything. Helped by the fact that I can’t breathe, and breathing is required for talking. Then the pain recedes, with the telltale white spots and sparkles of Allure.
“Someone give me more details,” I demand the second I can breathe again.
“Broadsword shattered your clavicle and scapula,” Killian says, pressing his fingers along my neck and over
