by C.K. Bryant
Chapter Forty One
“What happened?” Kira threw her quiver and bow to the ground and dropped to her knees beside them.
“We were . . . attacked. I didn’t think they would find us that fast,” Altaria said, barely holding herself upright.
Kira laid her hand on Octavion’s chest. His heart thumped wild and erratic—his breathing forced and shallow. Most of his wounds appeared to be superficial, which gave no explanation for all the blood—until Altaria pulled her hand away from the gaping wound in his thigh. Blood pulsed out, spilling onto the ground.
“It hit an artery,” Altaria said. “He’s lost too much blood. You have to do something.” Her voice quivered as she spoke—the usual tough exterior replaced by fear.
Kira untied the leather strap that held the dagger around her leg and removed it from the sheath. She wrapped it around Octavion’s thigh just above the wound and tied it once. She searched the ground until she found a small stick, placed it over the piece of leather and tied it as tight as she could. She twisted it several times, slowing the blood flow to the wound.
“This is deep, but I don’t think it hit an artery. He’d be dead by now if it did.” Kira gave the leather strap one more twist and instructed Altaria to hold it.
“How did you get here?” Kira asked.
“I had to bring us. I missed the clearing, but . . . at least we were close.”
Kira pulled one of the metal vials out of her pouch and handed it to Altaria. “Drink this. You need your strength. I may need your help with this one.” Kira looked her up and down with a quick glance. “Are you hurt?”
“I have some small cuts, but I’m all right. See to him first.”
Octavion began thrashing around, making it more difficult to hold onto the tourniquet. Kira pulled the second vial out of her pouch and opened the lid. She supported his head with her hand and poured the liquid past his lips. He swallowed hard. It only took a few seconds for him to open his eyes.
“Altaria?”
“I’m here.” She leaned closer so he could see her face.
He rolled toward her and tried to sit. “Help me up.”
“Whoa. Not so fast.” Kira pushed him onto his back. “You’re hurt pretty bad.”
“Nonsense.” He tried to sit again, but this time the pain in his leg drew his attention to the massive amount of blood soaking the dirt beneath him. “I am a fool. Why did I let you talk me into this?” He lowered himself back to the ground.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. Do you think the Gyllrue is necessary?” Kira reached into her pouch and pulled out the container.
“It will help, yes,” Altaria said.
“No!” Octavion yelled, trying to grab at her bag. Yellow invaded his eyes as his pupils flickered from black orbs to the thin slits of a cat.
Kira pushed his hand away. “Stop it! If you need this, you’re having it.”
He settled back to the ground, withdrew his hand and closed his eyes. “Then be quick about it.”
Kira opened the container, releasing the noxious fumes into the air, then let one tiny drop land square on his tongue. He made a face. Pay back, my friend.
Altaria gave her a crooked grin and winked.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Kira pulled her dagger from its sheath, laying the blade across the palm of her hand.
Altaria gasped and grabbed Kira’s arm as a deep throaty growl escaped Octavion’s chest. “You can’t do that—look at him. He’s already changing from the pain. If he caught a whiff of your blood he wouldn’t be able to control himself.”
“But it’s the only way. I can’t heal a wound like this without my blood.”
Octavion tried to sit again. This time he scooted himself back and leaned against a tree. “She is right, Kira. It’s too dangerous. Do the best you can without it.”
Kira didn’t like it, but it seemed she had little choice. Placing her hand on his wound, she tried to see it healed, but even with the pressure of the tourniquet the blood flowed too fast. She pulled her hand away and studied their expressions.
Altaria’s eyes pled for Kira to heal her brother, but Octavion avoided her gaze completely. His focus seemed more on trying to control his transformation than on what was happening around him.
“How long do you think you can control your cravings?” Kira asked. “Can you hold your breath so you don’t smell my blood?”
His eyes were already on fire and his facial features had begun to change. “You are not cutting yourself.”
“How long?”
“Not long enough. You will not do this, Kira. The moment I smell your blood I will be on you. What you saw yesterday was nothing. I do not have the strength to control it.”
Kira sat back on her heels and considered her options. “Altaria, are you strong enough to hold him down? All I need is a few seconds.”
“I could give you a few, but no more. He is ten times stronger than me, even when he is injured.”
“That is not an option,” Octavion said. “You will die. Do you understand?”
“And if I don’t, you’ll bleed to death. That’ll leave us to fight them alone. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not.”
“Listen, I can do it fast. I won’t try to heal the whole wound, just slow the blood flow. The rest I can do later. If you can control it for a few seconds . . .” Kira was cut off by their silence. Altaria had her ruby grasped tightly in her hand. Octavion’s eyes were locked on his sister’s, his expression pleading her to listen to his thoughts. She’d never seen them do that before.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Altaria finally asked aloud. “There will be no going back. You will be bound.”
Octavion nodded. “I am sure.”
When Altaria jumped to her feet and took off through the trees, a surge of adrenaline rushed through Kira’s veins and goose bumps rose on her arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. He leaned his head back against the tree and stared into the forest. “Octavion!”
He glanced down at the tourniquet he now held in his hand. “It’s not the smell of your blood I’m worried about. I don’t know what will happen when your blood begins flowing through my veins. It may make it impossible for me to resist.” He slowly changed his focus to Kira’s eyes. “I will not lose you.”
“But you want me to sit here and watch you die?”
Before he answered, Altaria returned. The small wooden box she held reminded Kira of a pirate’s treasure chest, but on a much smaller scale. Her shoulders sagged from the weight as she lowered it to the ground. She threw open the lid and reached inside with both hands, pulling out a mass of chains and shackles.
“What the hell?” Kira yelled. “You are not putting those on him.”
“It’s okay,” Octavion said. “Why do you think we have them?”
Kira’s imagination raced with images of wild animals being restrained with heavy chains that cut into their necks and legs. “What are you saying?”
Altaria wrapped the chains around the tree. When she brought the first end around and clamped it over Octavion’s wrist, Kira grabbed it and tried to pull it off.
“No! There has to be another way.”
Altaria pushed her hand away. “Do you want him healed or not?” She paused with the metal chain draped over her arm.
“Yes.”
“Then help me with these.”
Kira reluctantly took the tourniquet so Altaria could shackle his other wrist. When Altaria wrapped the chain around his chest, the tears Kira had been holding back began to fill her eyes. She wiped them away before anyone could notice.
“Please, I can do this . . . without the chains.”
But Altaria continued to bind him. When she’d finished, she returned to her place next to her brother and took hold of the tourniquet. “You will need to be quick. I will try to help, but bringing us here has weakened me and your blood will affect me as well.”
&nbs
p; Kira looked at her trembling hands and at the blood that still flowed from Octavion’s wound. How did I get here? Taking a deep breath, Kira willed her nerves to be calm. “Will it help if he feeds?”
A confused look crossed Altaria’s face. “Yes, why?”
“Then go. I can do this myself. If he smells a fresh kill and has it here to feed on, maybe it will be easier—for both of you.”
Altaria glanced at Octavion before answering. “Are you sure, Kira?”
“Yes, now go.”
When Altaria released the tourniquet, Octavion’s blood gushed out of the wound and spilled onto the ground.
“Toran, come here, boy,” she called.
“I will be fine. This isn’t his battle,” Octavion protested.
“Yes it is.”
Toran took his place next to Octavion, lowering his head across his chest. Octavion sucked in a huge breath as the muscles in Toran’s neck and back tightened.
Kira grabbed Octavion’s dagger and offered him the handle to bite. He took it in his mouth and nodded he was ready. She drew her blade firmly across her palm until she’d made a large gash. The cut instantly bled and her fingertips went numb. She pressed her palm to his wound.
Octavion threw his head to one side and cried out, releasing the dagger from between his teeth. Octavion arched back and grabbed at the dirt with his fists and claws. He’d completely transformed.
This time the searing pain from the Crystor coursed through Kira’s body with a vengeance. As the burning ran up her arms and into her chest, it felt as if someone had twisted her heart in his fist. It knocked the breath right out of her. The burning continued down into the rest of her body and up into her head.
She was so involved in her own pain she hadn’t noticed Octavion. When he let out a deafening roar, she jerked her eyes open and jumped back. He yanked at the chains, his powerful jaws only inches from her face.
Toran was gone.
Octavion’s leg was healed, but Kira’s torture had just begun. The burning inside her worsened and breathing became almost impossible. The skin on her arms tingled, causing them to itch like mad, but when she tried to scratch, the mere touch of her fingers felt like razor blades cutting into her flesh. Every little sound pounded her ear drums and the slightest breeze burned her face and arms. Even the soft sunlight filtering through the trees bore into her eyes, causing pain.
Trying to get up, she fell against a tree, her trembling legs not able to support her weight. Every muscle in her body ached. She couldn’t even focus long enough to heal the gash in her palm. She had to get away from Octavion.
“Kira!” Octavion yelled. From what she could see through her blurred vision, he was almost back to normal. But how could that be?
The forest swayed to one side. “Something’s wrong.” Struggling with every breath, she rubbed her forehead and pressed against the constant throbbing. “I can’t breathe and my head . . . my heart.” She grabbed her chest with her other hand as the pain lashed out with increased force. All she could think about was how Serena had died of a weak heart. Kira wasn’t ready to die. Not like this.
“Kira!” Octavion pulled against the chains with so much force the trunk of the tree shuttered and the roots groaned beneath the earth. “Unlock these!”
“I . . . can’t.” She tried to look at him, but her eyes burned. Not with heat, it felt more like frost bite. “Octavion . . .”
“Kira! Get me out of these chains!” His voice sounded so strange, like he was in a tunnel.
“I can’t.” She turned away from him and pushed up by bracing against the tree. She needed to go back to the clearing to heal her hand and wash off the blood. When she lost her balance and fell to the ground, Octavion called out again. She heard the chains slamming against the trunk of the tree as he fought to get loose.
“Altaria!” he roared, swearing in his foreign tongue. “Get me out of these chains!”
Kira pulled herself up again and stumbled back to the clearing, using every tree along her path for support. She didn’t quite make it to her shelter before her legs gave out, her energy completely drained. Everything appeared distorted like she looked through a soap bubble, only she was on the inside. But what threw her the most was what she heard. Rustling leaves sounded more like the roar of a waterfall and every chirp of a bird was like a siren blaring in her ears.
And above it all, she could still hear Octavion yelling for Altaria, the loud thrashing of chains ripping into solid wood echoed through the trees. A few seconds passed when she felt her senses shut down, leaving her in silence.
She recognized Octavion when he appeared in front of her and her senses began to return. He fell to his knees in front of her and tried to take her in his arms.
“Don’t touch me,” she begged. “It hurts.”
“Kira, look at me. I need to see your eyes.” His face was right in front of her, but she couldn’t open her eyes wide enough for him to see them. They burned so cold, like freezing fire.
“Kira, open your eyes.”
“I can’t,” she said. “Something’s wrong. I’m . . . all mixed up. I feel like I’m having an allergic reaction to something. Even my skin hurts.”
“Kira, it’s important. Please show me your eyes.” His voice seemed deeper and calmer, pleading her to do as he said.
Kira raised her chin. Her eyelids felt swollen and heavy, but she managed to meet his gaze for a few brief seconds. The color washed from his face as he sat back in the dirt and looked away.
“What? What did you see?” His blurred image cleared enough that she could see anguish on his face.
“I am such a fool,” he said.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening to me?”
He leaned forward to take another look at her eyes. “Kira, I am so sorry. I was so worried about what your blood would do to me, I did not consider . . . what my blood would do to you.”
“Tell me what you saw? Are they . . . yellow?”
“No, Kira. Do not think that. It is the color—it is so strange. They are still green, but they look like cut emeralds. They sparkle when the light hits them just right. Can you see all right?”
“At first, they burned and I couldn’t focus, but now . . .” She looked around the clearing. “I’m beginning to see a little better.”
He let his breath out slowly.
Kira was so involved with what had happened and his reaction, she’d forgotten about her hand. It was still bleeding. Why wasn’t he reacting to her blood? She brought her hand up to examine the wound. She wasn’t trying to heal it, but when she looked at her open palm, the gaping wound sealed on its own. She looked up to see her shock reflected on his face.
“How did you do that?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “And why did your blood not trigger my hunger?”
“I don’t know, but I need to wash it off before it does.” Kira’s strength had returned and a dull ache had replaced the pain in her head—and heart. She pushed herself up and tried to make her way over to her shelter, but clumsily stumbled back to the ground.
“Let me get that.” Octavion retrieved the water jug from its branch and handed it to her.
She took a big swig, poured a little into her hand to wash away the blood and gave it back to Octavion. “Here,” she said. “You smell like Gyllrue.”
He made a face before emptying the jug. When he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, she noticed a small cut on his arm above the leather cuff. She’d forgotten about his other injuries. She grabbed the side of the shelter and stood, using it for support.
“Where else are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. It will heal on its own.”
“Octavion.”
“You’ve done enough for one day. If it still hurts tomorrow, I will let you heal it.”
“May I look at it?”
He unlaced the cuff and slid it over his hand, lifting his arm so she could get a better look. She grabbed his
arm and a jolt of pain ran up her arm and struck her heart. She let go and stepped back, trying not to react to the pain. She didn’t want him to see the effect it had on her.
She half expected him to chastise her, but instead he grabbed his back and rubbed the spot where she’d dug in her nails the night Lydia was hurt. He looked at Kira like she had horns growing out of her head.
“How did you do that?” he asked. He turned so Kira could see his back. The scars had vanished.
She didn’t know what to say. She’d never been able to heal something without touching it. “I don’t know. I just tried to heal your arm.”
He started pacing. “I do not want you to heal for a while. I need to figure this out.” He stopped to look at her. “Did it feel different?”
“Yeah, it didn’t burn. It was more like when you touch someone and get a static shock. It lasted a little longer, but it didn’t really hurt.” It wasn’t a total lie; she just left out the part about her heart.
He nodded. “That is what I felt, but it shot through my arm and down my back as if it searched for the injury.”
“Do you think your blood could have made my healing powers stronger?”
He looked at her with a grave expression on his face. “Yes, I do.” Then he closed the distance between them and took her hand in his, examining her healed palm. He smiled. “And I also believe your blood may have tamed my wild heart.”
“You mean my blood doesn’t affect you anymore?”
He was quiet for a moment, as if replaying the last few minutes over in his mind. He briefly examined her hand again and then his blood-soaked pant leg before returning his eyes to hers. “I dare not hope, Kira. But one thing is certain. I did not react to your blood a moment ago and that is a good sign.”