FOR HER, HE WILL SET EVERY KINGDOM ON FIRE.
Kyron LeFur never wanted to be king. He may have united a torn people and ended a bloody war, but none of that matters without his queen. She sacrificed her crown for him, and now he will stop at nothing t...
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I can't keep my hands off Kyron. He lays unconscious beside me, sweat beading on his brow and breaths erratic. I brush the hair from his forehead, his skin burning beneath my fingers. The flames from the fire dance over his pale lips and don't reach the dark, sunken-in circles under his eyes. The healing balm the Sara queens gave me has fused his wounds closed, but it hasn't done much to treat the infection.
Kyron groans and his eyelids flutter open. I can hardly make out his black irises through the slight openings of his swollen eyes. He licks his cracked lips and shifts to his side, putting us nose to nose. This isn't the first time he has appeared awake. Throughout the night, he has vocalized his pain laced with nonsensical ramblings. I slide my hand from his hair to his cheek, hoping to ease him back to sleep.
He grips my wrist in a weak hold and says, "You need these."
I furrow my brows, searching his face for true consciousness. "What do I need?" I ask.
Kyron brings his other hand to mine and places something cold in the middle of my palm. I catch a glimpse of the two stones as he curls my fingers around them. "You need these."
"They are useless to—"
"You need them. Please take them."
"All right," I say, placing them in my pocket.
I can't argue with him, not when he isn't aware of what he's doing. Pain has plagued him for hours, scrambling his thought process. If holding the Eporri and Posseda gives him peace, I'll do it.
He places my hand back on his face and closes his eyes again. "I love you, Raelle," he mumbles.
"I love you."
I hate seeing him like this. We should have found cover sooner. I should have tended to his wounds right after the battle. I should have never given into his stubbornness. Every second he went uncared for cost him dearly.
Gravel grinds beneath boots behind me, and I roll to my back to find Greer folding her blanket. "How's he doing?" she asks, keeping her voice low.
I look past her to the eastern sky where a thin line of violet sits on the horizon. "He still has a fever and can't stay awake. He won't be able to travel."
She crouches on Kyron's other side and lifts the bandage on his arm. The angry, red puncture wounds sit in the center of black and blue skin. "Idiot," she hisses.
The concern she has for Kyron is written in the crease between her brows and the downturn of her lips. She may curse him for his stupidity, but it is over-shadowed by her worry.
"How long do you think it's going to take him to get on his feet again?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Longer than we have."
"What do we do?"
"Go without him."
I spring up, my mouth agape and eyes wide. "We can't—"
