Cage sheaths his blade and strides across the ruined space between us. Trees stand snapped in half, some splintering from force of impact while branches lay flung and fallen across the ground.
“Oliver. Let me in.”
Oliver glares and keeps the shield intact.
“I can break this,” Cage says, voice low and on edge. “Either let me in to help her or I will break it.”
I rasp, barely loud enough to be heard. “Ollie…let him in.”
Oliver reluctantly obeys. The shield fades, but he refuses to move from my side.
I can feel his distress like a storm of emotion echoing through our bond. It’s making everything harder to bear.
“Ollie…I’ll be okay. How about you go back to our room and get it ready for me please? Can you do that? I try to smile. “I need wine and a bath.”
I need them—but more than that, I need him to believe I’ll be okay.
“Of course, me missus. I will prepare your arrival.”
He presses his cheek to mine and plants a soft, dry kiss. He shoots Cage a final warning look before warping out of sight, the air cracking faintly where he vanishes.
“We’re going to have to train you without magic,” Cage says, crouching beside me. He begins checking my body for damage. His fingers press gently at first and then proceed with more confidence.
“I was overpowered,” I grumble back, wincing. “I also recall you using aridiculousamount of magic during that fight.” “And?” he says flatly, “I can wield magicandstill not suck with a blade. Those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
I glare at him but my strength to argue is fading fast.
“I’m going to carry you.”
I don’t have time to object. He slides his arms beneath my knees and shoulders and lifts me without effort. I bite down a cry threatening to escape but I clench my jaw instead.
Cage holds me close, careful to avoid putting pressure on my ribs. His warmth bleeds into my chilled skin. Instinctively, I curl closer, seeking anything but the pain eating through me.
I breathe in his smoky pine scent. It’s familiar, almost calming. It distracts my thoughts. His heartbeat drums steadily beneath my chest.
I start to drift—half asleep, half clinging to consciousness.
“Millie,” Cage says softly, “open your eyes for me.”
I do. Barely.
He’s watching me. Has been, maybe for a while.
“Let me in,” he murmurs. “I can take it all away.”
I tense. The idea of him in my mind—rooting around,seeing who I was, what I am, what Iwant—is too much. It’s unnerving. Especially when he is unaware of my reasons for being here.
He senses my hesitation.
“Think of it as a fun new way for me to suffer,” he says smirking, trying to be playful. “I’ll take the pain for you.”
“I can endure pain.” My voice is low, rasping. I close my eyes again, unwilling to let him in. Not that far.
“Fierce as ever,” he mutters. “She can endure pain and near-death…but can’t handle someone helping her.”
His voice is different now. It’s soft but laced with something darker. Bitterness?
I don’t have the strength to tell.
