Page 49 of Demon's Beauty

I hum as I work to keep myself grounded and focused—an old lullaby my mother used to sing to Seren and me about a great gnarled oak in a twilight forest and all the birds and animals in its branches going to sleep. A silly thing, but it’s the first song that comes to mind, and as I sink deeper into my power, deeper into the lilting strains of the song, Finn’s tight muscles relax. Hispain eases and ebbs as it skates over my fingers, along the backs of my hands, until all I can feel as I work over him is a dull ache.

It’s enough.

For now, it’s enough.

Utterly exhausted, I peel my eyes open, and relief courses through me again.

It’s good work. Maybe some of my best. His skin is still an angry shade of red, but it’swhole. Knit back together, the wound closed, he probably won’t be feeling all that great anytime soon, but he’ll certainly survive and have a much shorter recovery than he would have otherwise.

For good measure, I pull out a couple of tinctures and a few herbs to mix into a poultice, which I place on his shoulder and cover with strips of gauze to keep it in place.

When I finally look up from where I’m bent over Finn, Vayla is standing in the tent’s doorway. I can’t even guess how long she’s been there, but her eyes are wide as she looks over my work.

She lets out a low hum of appreciation and reaches the canteen in her hand across the tent toward me. “That’s… impressive.”

“Thanks.” I grab the canteen and take a long swig. “It’s not the way I usually heal, but extraordinary circumstances, you know?”

She nods, face going pale in the low light. “I’m so sorry, Soleil. I absolutely should have warned you about the drakons. In all the chaos, it didn’t even cross my mind, and that mistake could have cost you and Finn your lives.”

I stand, though my lower back and numb legs immediately protest.

Reaching Vayla in a stride, I put my hands on her shoulders. “AndIshould have asked a guard it was safe before I went wandering around a realm I barely know anything about.”

She nods again, though that stricken look doesn’t entirely leave her.

“It was so, so stupid for me to go off wandering on my own,” I tell her. “Really. I don’t blame anyone but myself.”

She lets out a shaky, tear-edged sigh. “Alright. Well. I’m still going to be beating myself up about it for a while. Do you want to go lie down back in our tent and get some sleep? I can sit with him if you need rest.”

Immediately, the magick buried deep in my chest protests.

Leave?

Now?

When Finn is still here, still hurt, when I’m still needed by my m—

“I’ll stay for a bit,” I say, tamping down that unbelievably powerful wave of protective instinct.

Where the hell did that come from?

“Just in case he wakes up and needs another round of healing,” I add, and Vayla gives me a long, knowing look before she leaves.

Finn is quiet.

His breathing is deeper and more even now, and he doesn’t stir as I lower myself down beside him.

The ground is hard, but the soft grass beneath the tent’s floor helps a little, and the taut canvas wall is firm enough to lean against.

I’ve slept in less comfortable places than this.

After having crashed on wooden chairs or on benches in the coven hall’s workshops when a potion needed tending all night, sitting here seems pretty cushy in comparison.

And I’m so, so tired.

The late night, the drain of my magick, the emotional toll of the last few hours, all of it has my eyes sliding shut just as soon as I sit down.

18