Chapter Twenty-Five

455 43 335
                                    

The pain was worse than anything Wade had ever felt. Each breath sent it clawing at his insides, turning his blood to fire and consuming all else. He could hardly feel his own body as he slipped in and out of consciousness, aware of nothing but the transition from agony to cold, unforgiving darkness. A few dreams flickered across his mind, filled with fear and confusion. He panicked, not sure what was real and what wasn't. His horrified thoughts spun out of control, stifling the small part of him trying to remain calm.

Wade! Aurum's voice cut through the fog like a beacon of light, as sharp and clear as ice. Stay with me!

Wade clung to the dragon's voice, desperate for the sickening whirl of his mind to end. Something cold and bright flashed through him, and, for a brief moment, he returned to his body. A bitter wind tore at his clothes, and his feet hung above empty air. He tried to open his eyes, but his body refused to respond. The pain was worse now. Much worse. Maybe the darkness wasn't so bad. He felt tired . . .

Don't fall asleep! Aurum growled, his voice tearing through the confusion once more.

Aurum . . . Wade struggled to string the words together as he drifted away. Why can't I breathe?

Wade! Panic filled the dragon's mind as the gap between their minds widened.

Aurum? Wade lost focus; the world flickered and dipped away. Aurum!

Don't— The dragon's voice faded abruptly; the darkness eagerly pressed inwards, consuming Wade before he could do anything else. Then there was nothing but the frigid void.


<><><>


It felt like years had passed when the world finally settled. Wade kept still, letting his senses spread out as he untangled his thoughts. As he woke up, so did the burning line of pain that lanced his ribcage. He screwed his eyes shut. At least it meant that he was still alive.

A small part of him wished he wasn't; at least then he could breathe without tears welling up in his eyes.

A light breeze brushed against Wade's face, and he shivered. His mind cleared a little more, and he realized that he was lying on the ground, a scratchy jacket draped over him. Every inch of him felt as cold as ice, yet his clothes were stiff with sweat. Or could it be blood?

Wade forced his eyes open, wincing as light flooded his vision. Thin, spindly branches greeted him, framed against the azure sky. His father was sitting beside him, his face drawn and worried. His eyes met Wade's, and he jumped.

"Wade? Are you awake, son?"

"Father?" Wade croaked. He tried to sit up, but someone gripped his other shoulder and guided him back to the ground.

"Don't move." A different voice. Softer. Wade turned his head to see Serafina, her dark hair held back with a strip of cloth. Deep circles were gouged under her eyes.

". . . Sera?"

"Shh. You're with fever." Serafina rested the back of her hand on Wade's forehead as she spoke, frowning. He reached up and grasped her wrist, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"The Valkir . . . Ash—where's Ash?"

Sorrow rose up in Serafina's eyes, and she slowly pulled her hand away. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "We had to run."

Wade froze, the memories finally falling into place. A sword. Collapsing to the ground. Pain. A bitter curse slipped past his lips, and he clenched his fists. How could he have been so stupid? Aurum had been their best source of protection—he and Asher had practically been begging for the Valkir to make their move. He'd let this happen. He should have expected this.

SolivagantWhere stories live. Discover now