more and then nodded but watched me the entire time she walked to the door.
Eli still leaned against the wall. His expression held no sentiment, but his presence was loud and consuming. His eyes delved into mine, his jaw set. He thrust himself off the wall, turned and left the room without a word. He didn’t need to. His cold, aloof expression told me everything. I ached to follow, but something kept me in place. Sliding a chair over, I sat down next to Torin. I placed his bruised, broken hand in mine. He let out a sigh, and his body relaxed further into the pillows.
EIGHT
Over the next twenty hours , I didn’t leave Torin’s side, even when they moved him into Dax’s old room for more privacy. The infirmary cabin was getting full with Thara, Mom, Kennedy, and me sleeping there. Torin was placed in the room furthest from the other Dark Dwellers, which seemed the best idea. It was built to hold eleven Dark Dwellers. Now only six inhabited it.
Thara’s dedication almost rivaled my own. Owen would get her to take breaks, to eat or rest, but he never could sway me. I would not leave him. The thought made something in me ache.
She had gone to take a quick nap an hour earlier, leaving me to sit vigil by his bedside. His swelling had gone down, but the cuts and bruises were slower to heal. For a Fay, his sluggish recovery was not normal, which only added to my concerns. How damaged was he on the inside that made it so slow for him to mend on the outside?
A figure moved beside me, reaching for Torin’s wrist. Blurry-eyed, I glanced up at Owen.
“You really need to at least eat something, Ember.” He frowned at me.
Refusing once again, I gripped Torin’s hand tighter. A small groan floated from his lips. My head turned to him and back to Torin.
“Torin?” I jumped to my feet and reached to touch his face.
“ Mo chuisle .” The words barely made it to my ear. “Are you really here?” His lids fluttered but didn’t open.
“Yes. I’m here,” I squeaked.
A smile came to his lips, splitting the cuts on them. “I found you. I can now die fulfilled.”
My heart clenched so hard it became hard to breathe. The thought of him dying sent daggers into my core. “You are not going to die.” It was more to myself than to him. It was an idea I refused to accept. He did not respond, his head falling heavier onto the pillow. Tears burned, choking my throat.
Owen touched my shoulder. “This will probably happen for a bit. While he is healing, his body will only be able to stay awake for tiny increments before it needs to replenish.”
It was like a tsunami. Every moment of pain I caused him and the others careened into me all at once. The room began to teeter, and the floor moved under my feet. My knuckles turned white as I seized the bed sheets. My back arched forward, curling into itself. The walls closed in on me.
“Breathe, Ember. You are starting to hyperventilate.” Owen pressed his hand gently onto my back.
“She needs some air and food.” Another set of hands gripped my hips and pulled me toward the door. Eli escorted me into the morning air. When did he come into the room? I hadn’t even noticed. How long had he been standing behind me? Listening?
The ranch was silent and in the deep hours of night. Dawn was still a couple hours away, but during summer this far north it always looked as if daybreak was right there waiting for its turn. Eli moved in front of me. His hands clutched the sides of my face. “Hey, look at me. Calm down.”
“Oh, God. I did this to him. Me... . I only destroy and hurt people. . .” Another wave of panic swept me along a long river of guilt. I gulped for air. So many things hit at the same time: emotions of my mom, of Mark and West being stuck in the Otherworld, of Ryan never able to leave, of all the people I killed in Seattle. Torin was simply another on the ever-growing list. It was all too much. Hot, blinding tears pushed past my defensive boundaries
Eli still leaned against the wall. His expression held no sentiment, but his presence was loud and consuming. His eyes delved into mine, his jaw set. He thrust himself off the wall, turned and left the room without a word. He didn’t need to. His cold, aloof expression told me everything. I ached to follow, but something kept me in place. Sliding a chair over, I sat down next to Torin. I placed his bruised, broken hand in mine. He let out a sigh, and his body relaxed further into the pillows.
EIGHT
Over the next twenty hours , I didn’t leave Torin’s side, even when they moved him into Dax’s old room for more privacy. The infirmary cabin was getting full with Thara, Mom, Kennedy, and me sleeping there. Torin was placed in the room furthest from the other Dark Dwellers, which seemed the best idea. It was built to hold eleven Dark Dwellers. Now only six inhabited it.
Thara’s dedication almost rivaled my own. Owen would get her to take breaks, to eat or rest, but he never could sway me. I would not leave him. The thought made something in me ache.
She had gone to take a quick nap an hour earlier, leaving me to sit vigil by his bedside. His swelling had gone down, but the cuts and bruises were slower to heal. For a Fay, his sluggish recovery was not normal, which only added to my concerns. How damaged was he on the inside that made it so slow for him to mend on the outside?
A figure moved beside me, reaching for Torin’s wrist. Blurry-eyed, I glanced up at Owen.
“You really need to at least eat something, Ember.” He frowned at me.
Refusing once again, I gripped Torin’s hand tighter. A small groan floated from his lips. My head turned to him and back to Torin.
“Torin?” I jumped to my feet and reached to touch his face.
“ Mo chuisle .” The words barely made it to my ear. “Are you really here?” His lids fluttered but didn’t open.
“Yes. I’m here,” I squeaked.
A smile came to his lips, splitting the cuts on them. “I found you. I can now die fulfilled.”
My heart clenched so hard it became hard to breathe. The thought of him dying sent daggers into my core. “You are not going to die.” It was more to myself than to him. It was an idea I refused to accept. He did not respond, his head falling heavier onto the pillow. Tears burned, choking my throat.
Owen touched my shoulder. “This will probably happen for a bit. While he is healing, his body will only be able to stay awake for tiny increments before it needs to replenish.”
It was like a tsunami. Every moment of pain I caused him and the others careened into me all at once. The room began to teeter, and the floor moved under my feet. My knuckles turned white as I seized the bed sheets. My back arched forward, curling into itself. The walls closed in on me.
“Breathe, Ember. You are starting to hyperventilate.” Owen pressed his hand gently onto my back.
“She needs some air and food.” Another set of hands gripped my hips and pulled me toward the door. Eli escorted me into the morning air. When did he come into the room? I hadn’t even noticed. How long had he been standing behind me? Listening?
The ranch was silent and in the deep hours of night. Dawn was still a couple hours away, but during summer this far north it always looked as if daybreak was right there waiting for its turn. Eli moved in front of me. His hands clutched the sides of my face. “Hey, look at me. Calm down.”
“Oh, God. I did this to him. Me... . I only destroy and hurt people. . .” Another wave of panic swept me along a long river of guilt. I gulped for air. So many things hit at the same time: emotions of my mom, of Mark and West being stuck in the Otherworld, of Ryan never able to leave, of all the people I killed in Seattle. Torin was simply another on the ever-growing list. It was all too much. Hot, blinding tears pushed past my defensive boundaries
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