My world was on fire.
Every breath scraped through my lungs like glass. We were in a wagon. I knew because each jolt and sway sent white-hot agony searing up my spine. My teeth didn't fit right, the angle of my jaw all wrong. Something inside me was broken. Maybe everything.
I wanted the darkness back. The cold, quiet nothing that didn't hurt. But something in me, small and stubborn, kept clawing toward the surface. It may have been fear. Or rage. I wasn't sure.
"She's bleeding all over the blankets," A man whispered, voice low. It grated on my nerves even though I couldn't open my eyes. "Don't you think we should stop at a healer, my Liege?"
"We can't afford to. Not while she's still in fox form," I knew that voice. Smooth and velvety, like the chocolate cake my mother would smuggle into my room on my birthday. That was the man from the forest.
I hated how much comfort that voice brought. I didn't even know Forest Man. But he was someone my mother trusted. So I'd do the same.
"We'll have to wait until we reach Tyrrim. Garth can look at her there."
"I still don't get it." The other man was curious now. "Why a fox? She's no longer important to anyone."
I flinched inside. The words landed harder than I expected.
"That's the point." Forest man replied, so close I could almost feel the heat from his body. "She no longer matters to anyone. She won't be missed. No one will look for her. No one will expect her, until it's too late."
Each word sliced deeper than the wounds on my body. He wasn't wrong. But truth didn't make it sting any less.
They talked about me like I wasn't even there. Maybe they thought I wasn't. And that was fair. I was barely holding on, floating in and out of the pain. But I heard them. Every word.
If it weren't for him and my mother, I'd already be dead. My people would've torn me apart without blinking.
The wagon swayed. I let the rhythm pull me under again.
"All right, little fox." His voice dragged me back. I whimpered, the sound warped and wrong through the pain in my jaw. The wagon had stopped. "It's time to get you healed up."
He lifted me carefully, but it still felt like my bones were screaming. I couldn't stop the cry that tore from me. My ears twitched and flattened against my skull, useless against the ache.
"I know it hurts." He murmured, holding me against his chest. His heartbeat was steady. Grounding. "You'll be better soon."
I wanted to believe him.
My eyelids wouldn't open. They were too swollen. So I stayed pressed to him, letting that thudding heartbeat lull the panic.
He walked, his strides smooth and quick, until everything around us shifted. The air changed. It was cooler, and there was the echo of stone beneath boots.
We were inside.
Marching footsteps bounced off the walls, and my ears twitched, picking up the sounds. A hall, maybe. High ceilings.
Then a voice I didn't know gasped. "Oh my. What do we have here?"
"Someone in need of your unique talents, Garth." Forest man laid me down on something firm.
"A fox? Poor thing." The man, Garth, sounded kind. Curious. "I'll never understand the stigma shifters place on them. Shifters are shifters, aren't they? Poor bastard."
"Bitch, actually." Forest man corrected him with a chuckle.
"Oh. Oh! A female. Even worse."
Cool fingers prodded my hind legs. I flinched.
"Several lacerations." Garth murmured, working his way up. His touch was brisk but not cruel. Clinical. "Three broken ribs. No sound of a punctured lung." He reached my shoulders. "Jaw looks off."
I jerked away when he poked, but he followed. "Easy girl. I need to know how bad."
Another jab. Agony exploded behind my eyes. I couldn't even make a sound.
"Broken. Definitely. She's not too far gone, though. I can heal her."
Their voices faded again, drifting into murmurs while pain took over everything.
Time stopped meaning anything.
Cool fingers prodded me again, and I flinched away. Garth.
"All right, girl. This is going to hurt. I've got to get this potion in you. It's disgusting, but it'll work. You have to swallow it all."
He turned my head. The pressure on my jaw made me whimper, but I didn't fight.
I could do this. I had to.
A cork popped. Fingers pried my jaw open. Liquid splashed down my throat and I gagged.
"Swallow. Come on. That's it. Good girl."
It tasted like old porridge and something that had already been thrown up once. I forced it down, hating every second of it.
"There. It'll take a day. You'll sleep through most of it." Sounds blurred around me. That was some potent stuff. "Let's get you tucked in, so I can keep an eye on you."
Garth lifted me gently, and set me somewhere soft. Cloud-like and warm. The kind of soft I'd never known.
Then I let go. The potion pulled me under.
My dreams were dark, living things.
I ran through a forest, the wind in my fur. Killian's sneer flashed across my mind. Forest man's strange, unreadable eyes. My mother's laugh. My father's disappointment.
It all mixed and twisted, dragging me deeper.
I surfaced once. Someone wiped my face, coaxed water into my mouth. Gentle hands, murmured voices. Then I slipped back down.
Later, I was moved again. New voices, female this time. Soft fabrics brushed my skin. Someone said my name, or maybe I imagined it.
And then…nothing.