“Duly noted.” He flashed me a wink before he schooled his expression.
“What is it?” I asked, raking my gaze over his frame. “Do you need to stop?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at me.
“Why are you helping me, Ariana?”
It was one of the few times he called me by my name. Not princess. Not Mrs. Kane. Just Ariana.
I slowly lifted my gaze and peered into his eyes. No response came, though. Because I didn’t know how to answer his question.
Instead, I tightened my hold on him and continued toward the house.
“Let’s get out of the cold.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Henry
By the time we reached the cabin, the trees were dancing.
Not like leaves swaying in the breeze. The entire forest pulsed and shifted, doubling at the edges, merging and splitting like some confusing oil painting. The ground tilted underfoot with every step, slick and traitorous. My ankle throbbed, but that wasn’t the problem. I could handle pain. Hell, Iwelcomedpain.
It was my goddamn head.
The pounding behind my eyes was relentless, a war drum synced to the rhythm of my own heartbeat. Every thud threatened to crack my skull open from the inside. Nausea crawled up my throat, acidic and thick.
I’d made Ariana stop at least a dozen times along the way. Pretended to adjust my weight. Catch my breath. In reality, I was trying so damn hard not to pass out face-first in the snow. I was holding on to consciousness with white-knuckled fists, desperate to blink the world into a single, stable version instead of three overlapping copies.
What should have been a ten-minute trek took four times that, maybe more. Regardless, she stayed by my side.
Every time I faltered, she was there. Silent. Steady. Not asking questions. Not pushing me.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had been there for me like this.
Sure, I could always count on Gideon whenever I needed him. And Blake had my back, no matter what.
I’d given Ariana no reason to help me, but she did.
It was yet another confusing piece to add to the puzzle that was Ariana Kane.
She dragged me up the porch steps and into the cabin, her shoulder pressed under my arm as I leaned heavily on her.Tooheavily. But she didn’t complain, supporting me every step of the way.
I barely made it to the couch before I collapsed onto it, grateful to be able to stop moving for a while.
Maybe now the world would stop moving, too.
“You can go now,” I muttered, my head tipping back like dead weight. “Take the Jeep. You know where the keys are.”
She was already gone, moving deeper into the cabin. I half-expected to hear the sound of a distant engine firing up, the tires crunching snow as she disappeared for good.
Instead, I heard water running. Cabinets opening and closing. Soft footsteps returning.
When I peeled my eyes open again, she sat beside me, her arms full of various first-aid supplies.
“What are you doing?” I rasped. “You could’ve been halfway down the mountain by now.”
She ignored me, reaching for the zipper of my coat. “You’re soaked.”
