Page 58 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Tabitha Wysteria
Bryn Wynter’s blue eyes flew open.
For a breathless moment, he did not know where he was, or even what he was. Surely he was dead. His head throbbed dully, his eyes burnt, and his mouth was so dry it felt as though he had not tasted water in days. Every inch of his body ached, the deep, bone-heavy pain of someone who had been broken and hurled back together poorly, as if he had been cast from a cliff and left to shatter on the rocks below.
He forced himself to look around, dread curling in his chest. Was this death?
The place unsettled him for how familiar it was. Too familiar. It looked too much like home. Bryn had heard the stories of Nilfheim—the Underworld his people spoke of inreverent tones. A land of endless warmth, of roaring hearths that never died, of laughter, drink, and eternal comfort. He had always scoffed at such tales. An eternity like that had never appealed to him.
This was not it.
The air bit with cold. He lay upon thick furs inside a small wooden hut, the scent of smoke and earth clinging to the air. He tried to sit up, only for agony to rip through him so violently that a groan tore from his throat before he could stop it.
‘Don’t move,’ a voice warned from behind him.
Bryn’s breath caught. His eyes widened as someone came into view, crouching beside him. Someone solid, real, and very much alive.
‘How…’ Bryn swallowed hard at the sight of Kage Blackburn, looking exactly as he had the last time Bryn had seen him, unchanged by time or distance. The perpetually gruff wyverian paid no heed to Bryn’s shock, methodically wiping dried blood from Bryn’s arms with quiet care.
‘You should rest,’ Kage said, his tone firm but not unkind.
‘How are ya here?’ Bryn tried to sit up again, only for Kage to press him gently back into the thick furs. ‘Last time I saw ya, ya were headed back to yer own kingdom.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Where have ya been?’
‘And that’s an even longer one.’
Something shadowed Kage’s dark eyes then, something heavy and unspoken. Bryn noticed it and bit down on his lip, choosing not to ask. There would be time for truths later. For now, it was enough that Kage was here, real and breathing, when Bryn had thought himself utterly alone.
‘Am I dead?’ Bryn asked quietly.
Kage flinched, just barely, but enough for Bryn tosee it.
‘No,’ Kage replied. ‘You’re alive. Barely. You’ve been unconscious for days. You were stabbed so many times I’m honestly not sure how you’re still breathing.’
Bryn went still. ‘I should be dead?’
Kage shrugged, though his frown deepened. ‘Most likely. You were struck in the heart with an axe.’
Bryn glanced down at his own body, brows lifting in muted disbelief. ‘So I should be dead…’
‘And yet you’re not,’ Kage said, studying him with visible confusion. ‘Perhaps the wounds weren’t as deep as I thought.’
Bryn’s breath hitched, sharp and shallow, as panic clawed its way up his chest. He needed air. He needed space. He needed to move. With gritted teeth and trembling limbs, he twisted to one side and forced himself upright. Every nerve screamed in protest.
Kage watched in silence, confusion etched across his face, but Bryn offered no explanation. He staggered out of the small hut and into the open snow, managing only a handful of steps before his strength gave out entirely. He collapsed hard, the cold biting through him as if the world itself had turned its back.
Tears slid freely down his cheeks. His chest ached, hollow and unbearable, as though his heart were splintering all over again. Everything he had tried to outrun came crashing down around him.
He heard Kage approach, boots crunching through snow, but Bryn did not look back. He pressed his shaking hands into the frozen ground, struggling for breath as sobs wracked his body. His wounds throbbed, cruel reminders of a truth he had been too afraid to name.
‘I shouldn’t be alive,’ Bryn whispered, the words torn from somewhere deep and broken.
‘Perhaps.’ Even without seeing him, Bryn could almostpicture Kage’s shrug behind him.
‘I should be dead.’
