Page 41 of Salt Between the Wolves

Blood had already begun spreading through the snow, staining the white surface beneath him in widening crimson streaks. One look was enough to understand the severity of the wound. The arrow had struck too close to his heart.

Far too close.

Yet understanding and acceptance were not the same thing.

Riven's eyes found hers immediately.

They were still clear.

Still aware.

For one impossible moment, hope surged through her with enough force to drown out reason.

He's alive.

He's alive.

We can fix this.

She pressed both hands against the wound.

Blood forced its way between her fingers almost immediately.

"No, no, no..."

The words tumbled from her without thought, driven by instinct rather than meaning. Around them, riders thundered past in pursuit of shadows hidden somewhere among the rocks, but the world had already narrowed to something smaller.

Around them, riders thundered past in pursuit of shadows hidden among the rocks, but the world had already narrowed to Riven, the blood spreading through the snow beneath him, and the terrible warmth covering her hands.

"Stay with me."

Her voice shook.

"Please."

The wound was too deep, and she knew it the moment she saw it.

The knowledge settled somewhere cold inside her almost instantly, yet her hands continued pressing against the wound as though determination alone might alter the outcome.

Blood spread quickly despite her efforts, soaking her sleeves and wrists before seeping into the fabric at her knees where she knelt in the snow. No matter how hard she pressed, it continued to slip through her fingers as though her hands had become meaningless against the scale of the injury.

Riven was trying to breathe.

Each breath seemed to cost him more than the last.

His gaze remained fixed on her face with the same bewildered expression he had worn from the moment the arrow struck. He did not look frightened. He looked confused, as though some part of him still expected the world to explain itself.

Only hours earlier he had been laughing beside her on the trail, accepting jokes about his command with the same easy confidence he seemed to carry everywhere. The night before, he had sat beside a fire speaking about the sea as though it were something sacred, describing horizons that never ended and water stretching farther than the eye could follow.

None of those memories belonged beside this moment, yet somehow they existed together now, separated only by a handful of hours and a single arrow.

"Eira..."

His voice barely rose above a whisper.

She leaned closer immediately.

"I'm here."