Chapter 18 If I Die
Lyra
“Jorin?”
I rush over to his bed. It’s still warm, and there’s a trace of blood on the sheets.
“Jorin!” I shout both with my mouth and through the mind-link. “Where the fuck are you?”
A moment later, the back door squeaks open. I wheel, ready to fight, and am relieved to see it’s him, stumbling in, his arm bleeding through the bandage.
I hurry over to Jorin. “What the fuck were you doing?”
“Had to hit the head.” He sounds exhausted, and possibly disoriented.
Supporting him on the side away from his injured arm, I steer him back over to his bed and help him lie down. “Next time, use a jar or something. For fuck’s sake, you scared the shit out of me. And it doesn’t make much sense for you to go outside when you’re bleeding all over the place.”
I go lock the back door and drop a bolt in place for good measure. Then, I return to the front door and make sure it’s locked and deadbolted as well. I can’t hear any howls at the moment, but every night, they get fairly close to the cabin. We know that rogues have run past here in the middle of the night before, but they have no way of knowing what they’d be up against if they tried to break in, so most of them don’t even slow down.
Still, he was lucky he didn’t get hurt again–or worse–when he was out there taking a piss.
Assured that the cabin is as secure as possible, I move back to him and check his arm. He’s definitely ripped some stitches, but then, they were all hastily placed by someone who had no idea what she was doing–namely me.
By the light of a small oil lamp we found at the other village, I unwrap his arm and find some clean bandages. I decide to go ahead and place a few more stitches in a couple of the worst places before I re-wrap it.
We have a small amount of pain medicine in the cabinet near the area we refer to as the kitchen, where the sink and fireplace are located. I bring him a couple of painkillers and a glass of water.
“Sit up,” I tell him, and he clumsily complies. I help him swallow the pills down, and then he rests his head back on his pillow. “You need to rest. No more wandering off. If you need to pee, I’ll get you a bucket or something, all right?”
A groggy chuckle erupts from his throat. “You did good today, kid.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You must’ve hit your head, too,” I tease.
“No, you did. And you know it. I’m proud of you, Lyra.”
“Thanks. I’m just glad we were able to kill them all, and both of us lived to tell the tale.”
“I would’ve died if you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t sewn me back up.” He pats my leg with his uninjured hand. “Thank you.”
“I don’t know if you would’ve died or not, but I guess that makes us even then, huh? You saved me–I saved you. That’s what friends do. We’re pack mates for life, Jorin. Just… let’s see if you can extend yours a bit, huh? I’d rather not be out there digging a hole anytime soon. That’s tiring work.” I think back to the enormous hole we had to dig for that ambush, and we both chuckle.
“You could just throw me in with the remains of the Running River Pack warriors.” He smiles, and his eyes gloss over like he might fall asleep any second.
“That wouldn’t be fair to you at all. The least I could do is toss you in a pond or send you downriver or something.” I crack a smile, and he chuckles.
But then, his expression grows more serious. “Listen, Lyra. There’s a good chance that one of us isn’t going to make it until the end of this battle–”
“Don’t say that, Jorin.” I interrupt him and hold up a hand to make him stop, but he ignores me.
“Now, listen. If something does happen, we have to stay focused on what we’re fighting for. We have to remember that Kaelen doesn’t deserve to be on the throne. So… if I leave you, finish this for me, huh?”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes just thinking about what he’s saying. I can’t imagine being out here without him. I had a moment to reflect on it earlier, and it almost paralyzed me with fear.
But I suppose that’s why he’s mentioning this now. He doesn’t want me to lose my shit and end up dead, too. “I’ll finish it,” I assure him. “You’ll do the same for me.”
His smile is back, wider this time. “You are going to die an old woman, surrounded by your great-grandchildren, on the throne that should’ve been yours to begin with, my dear.”
My forehead crinkles as I try to figure out what he’s talking about, but I’m lost.
“I will fight for you always, Lyra,” he says, and then, he closes his eyes, and he’s out. If I couldn’t hear his heart beating, I’d be afraid he’d died on me again.
With Jorin asleep, I decide to get some rest, too. I take off my dirty clothes and put on some clean ones to sleep in. We always sleep in our clothes, just in case. Then, I turn out the lamp and lie down on my bed, but I’m still trying to reason out what he meant.
The throne that should’ve been mine? What is he talking about? My parents were warriors, but they weren’t royals. They had no ties to the Alpha’s family.
Maybe Jorin is just confused. He did go through a lot of trauma today. Or maybe he was just trying to be poetic. Either way, I can’t let this keep me up all night. I’ll ask him about what he meant when he’s feeling better.
For now, we both need to rest. We have no idea what might happen from one day to the next, so we have to be ready for anything at any time. Today, it was rogues. Tomorrow, it could be warriors from one of the nearby packs. Being out here on our own is full of risk. But if we can take Kaelen off the throne and free the good people of Running River and the surrounding packs from his tyranny, well, it’ll be worth it.