Page 177 of Of Masks and Fury

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, tears trickling down my face. “Stay. You still owe me a lifetime of arguments and kisses.”

“They can’t have you.” His voice dropped to something dangerous, possessive. “Kill anyone who tries.”

I stroked his forehead. “I’m with you. I didn’t cross fire and fate to lose you now.”

“Minx.” The word came out slurred.

I helped Kerralyn unwrap his bandage, and she pressed a cloth soaked in something pungent across his wounds. Trew’s back arched, a sound of pure agony tearing from his throat.

I grabbed his other hand, lacing our fingers together. “It’s alright. It’s going to be alright.” But was it?

His breathing gradually slowed, the pain dragging him back under.

His skin burned as I pressed cooling cloths to his forehead, his chest, anywhere the heat seemed to gather. But even unconscious, he reached for me, his hand seeking mine, his body turning toward my touch.

A shudder ran through his frame. “Love you,” he mumbled, the words slurred but achingly clear. “Love you so much it terrifies me. You’re the only thing I’ve never been willing to lose. Would destroy the world, destroyeverything, to keep you safe.”

This raw honesty and complete surrender while his defenses were down undid me.

“I loved you before I knew your name, and I’ll love you even after the fates have forgotten mine.”

His grip tightened. “Don’t leave me. Promise you won’t leave.”

“Never.” I settled against his side, letting him feel my weight, warmth, and presence. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I pressed my face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in, fighting the urge to mark him somehow, to leave my claim on his heated skin.

“If this is the end,” I said softly. “I’m walking into the dark with you.”

“We need to strip off his tunic,” Kerralyn said, scooting over close to us. “I think the poison’s seeping through the fabric, into his shoulder wound.”

I nodded and slipped away from Trew. He didn’t stir.

She sliced through the blood-soaked leather, and we eased it out from around him. Every movement made him groan and fresh blood seep across his bandages. By the time we got it off, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the cloth Kerralyn handed me.

I’d seen Trew shirtless before. Had traced the planes of his chest and mapped the scars that told stories of battles won and losses survived. But I’d never seen him this vulnerable or broken.

Silver scars ran from around his back to his sternum. I slid my fingertip across each one.

“He got these protecting me in the Rite,” I said, not caring that I was confessing that he’d protected me when it was forbidden. “He’d merged with Gavelle in his firecat form, and they fought off the creature much like the ones that keep attacking us now.”

“The others must be from Skathe attacks,” Derren said from where he watched the cave entrance.

“He got them trying to survive.” I traced my finger across a mark on his arm. Another on his left side.

While I’d been presiding over executions in my father’s court. Trew had been fighting to keep his people alive. And now he was dying because he’d once again thrown himself between me and a creature that would’ve torn me apart.

“He’s getting worse.” Kerralyn’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. She pressed fresh herbs against his wounds, rewrapping them with strips of cloth. “The poison is spreading faster than the fraewort can counter it.”

“What can we do?” My voice came out strangled.

“Keep him warm. Keep him still. And pray the herbs work.”

I heard what she didn’t say: Before the poison reached his heart.

Outside the cave, combat continued, the roars of our companions echoing around us.

Derren and Lexie tightened their grips on their weapons and flung themselves into the battle with Gavelle, only Pherin remaining behind to cover the entrance and Kerralyn to help me with Trew.