Page 263 of The Edge of Darkness

Skadi gave one last look at me, at the damage she had inflicted, then disappeared into the cloud of smoky shadow that encompassed her.

A pair of strong arms caught me as I tilted. “I’ve got you,” Weston said.

My body was starting to shake. I pressed my fingers against the gashes across my stomach, then groaned, moving a hand to where the arrow had punctured my skin earlier. The area was burning like fire.

“She’s losing too much blood,” Weston said frantically. “Why isn’t she healing?”

The queen was instantly at my side, shaking her head in disbelief. “I—I didn’t foresee this happening.”

Weston lowered me to the ground while Corinne ripped the bottom portion of her cloak and tore the fabric free. She pressed it to my wounds in an effort to stop the bleeding.

I needed a healer. Fast.

And Breck . . .

We needed Maeson. We needed . . .

“The cave,” I said, my voice shaky and uneven between anxious breaths.

Weston leaned in. “The what?”

“In Calledan . . . there’s a cave in the mountains with healing waters.”

Weston’s face fell with defeat. “Auren, I haven’t been there. I can’t port us.”

I was about to say that I could, but the words died in my mouth as the reality of the situation hit me. Something was obstructing my power and my ability to heal, and without access to my power, I couldn’t port us anywhere, either.

I pressed my fingers against my chest, mindlessly rubbing against the gnawing burn as I tried to think of what to do.

Weston’s gaze snagged on the movement, and he snatched my hand away. “What is that?”

My head bobbed as I looked down and tried to see what had drawn his attention.

The other Dionach knelt behind me, allowing me to lean against him while Weston took my vest with both hands and ripped it open. The shirt beneath was bloodied and bore a small slit. He pushed his fingers through it and touched my skin. I cried out as a terrible jolt of pain radiated into my chest and along my collarbone.

He didn’t ask permission for what he did next, nor did he think twice. He tore the top hem of my shirt until it revealed the wound that sat just above my right breast where the skin was stretched thin over muscle and bone. Leaning closer, he squinted, then used his fingers to spread the skin around the puncture site. A bleating groan rumbled in my throat, and my eyes went wide, but I braced myself against the Dionach at my back and let Weston assess me.

His voice was low as he swore. “Shit . . . It’s iron. There’s iron in your wound.”

He swiveled on his knees, searching the area. When he spotted my brother, he jumped up and went to his body.

“The tip of the arrow is blunted,” he called out as he hurried back to me. “It must have pierced you when it went through your brother, then broke off inside you when he fell.”

Iron . . . stopping me from summoning my power. Keeping me from healing.

“Get it out,” I gritted. “Get it out now!”

“I need a blade that’s not iron.” He palmed his hips, searching for another weapon, but halted when Corinne hiked her dress up and plucked a dagger from the holster that was strapped around her thigh.

“Here,” she shoved it into Weston’s hands.

He angled it over my chest, hesitating. “I’m sorry, Auren. This won’t be pleasant.”

“Just do it,” I commanded. The burn was becoming unbearable, and I could feel the blood pooling beneath me from my other wounds.

The Dionach at my back placed a gentle but firm grip on my shoulders, bracing me against him.

Weston exhaled, brows pinching as he concentrated and slid the tip of his dagger into the already split skin.