Wincing, Isla reached back and felt around for the first spike. Gripped it with shaking fingers.
And pulled with all her might.
Her scream echoed through the forest; she could have sworn it rumbled the trees. Their shaking leaves sounded almost like laughter.
She had never hated herself more for being born powerless than she did now. If she was a true Wildling ruler, she could control every inch of the woods. They would never have hurt her. They would havehelpedher.
Her hand shook as it released the bloodied spine. It fell unceremoniously to the ground.
Only ten more to go, if her count had been correct when Oro had broken her free from the bramble.
The king was back now, crouching next to her.
Her entire arm shook as it bent backward, feeling for the next one. “I told you to go look for—”
“I did,” he said. “No heart.”
Tears rolled down her temples from the angle her head tilted. All this. For nothing.
“You can—you can go,” she said, closing her eyes tightly.
A few seconds passed. She didn’t hear him move and wondered if he had simply flown away in that soundless way of his.
But when she opened her eyes, there he was, frowning down at her no doubt gruesome-looking back.
Oro reached toward her, and she flinched. He held his hands palm up. A peace offering. “The spines are all yours,” he said, eyes clear. Reasonable. He motioned toward the dozens of thorns embedded in her arms, thin crimson streaks raining down from them like tears of blood. “I’ll get these.” She started to shake her head. “It’s faster,” he added. “The sooner this is finished, the sooner we can resume our search.”
He had a point. She supposed she could let him help her if it meant completing their mission. And getting out of this wicked forest.
“Fine,” she whispered.
His hands were hot against her skin but surprisingly gentle as they worked, pulling the thorns out, one by one. Each was followed by a prick of pain.
But nothing compared to the spikes in her back.
She wrapped her hand around another. Pulled. Screamed into her knees.
Another one. This one was curved, just an inch from her spine. She pulled, and a jolt tremored through her entire body, needles through her bones, poison in her veins. In the shock, her teeth bit down hard on her tongue, and an animalistic sound left her throat. Blood pooled immediately, dripping from her mouth.
“Here.” Suddenly, Oro was offering her something to bite into instead. “You’re going to bite your tongue off,” he said. “I’ve seen it happen before; you have to have something in your mouth for something like—”
Isla pulled another barb out, knowing it was impossible to feel more pain than she was feeling now.
But she was wrong. It doubled, tripled, and she bit down hard on what he offered.
Again.
Again.
Her eyes were closed so tight, her head hurt. She slipped in and out of consciousness. But she pulled every spike out herself.
It wasn’t until she was done and slumped against a tree that she realized she had been biting into Oro’s hand. It was covered in bite marks. She had pierced the skin in various places.
She was too tired to feel shame. All she could do was count her breaths as Oro used a canteen of water and his Moonling abilities to close her wounds.
By the time she stopped bleeding, it was time to leave. Dawn was approaching.
“What now?” she said, her voice barely making a sound.
