Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,99

sure if he heard her or not. He seemed to have slipped back into a light doze. That was probably best. He needed sleep.

But after a few minutes, Farrendel roused again. He gripped her fingers with more strength than she would have expected. “Weylind...your brothers...none of them were...”

“They’re fine. All of them. No one got hurt this time except you.” With their hands clasped on his chest, she could feel the angular ridges of his ribs even through the layers of blankets.

His muscles relaxed, but only for a moment. His gaze snapped back to her. “Melantha?”

What was she supposed to tell him? Last she’d seen, the elf scout had been toting an unconscious Melantha over his shoulder. Essie hadn’t even spared the time to worry about what was wrong with her, much less find out where she had been taken. She probably should have. Melantha was her sister-in-law, after all.

But something must have changed, if Farrendel was so concerned about Melantha. Though, this was Farrendel. He might be concerned even if she was still a traitor.

“She is alive.” At least, she was the last time Essie had seen her. If that had changed, she would figure out how to break the news to Farrendel later.

Farrendel sank back onto the pillow, closing his eyes. “She helped me. I would not have survived without her.”

“I’m glad she helped you.” Essie remembered that time she’d passed out after feeling a wave of pain from him. She’d known he’d nearly died, though she hadn’t been sure Melantha had been the one to save him. How much had they bonded during their capture? Essie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. All she wanted to do now was protect Farrendel from the sister Melantha had been last time Essie had seen her.

“I was not alone this time. I had Melantha. And I had you,” Farrendel murmured. His eyes fell the rest of the way closed, as if he was only partially awake. Perhaps he thought he was talking to her in a dream instead of real life.

Even now, she could feel the pain breaking through the haze of the morphine. All this struggling and moving and talking wasn’t doing him any good. He needed rest.

She gripped his hand between hers. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. But if you aren’t ready to talk, that’s all right. I’m still here. Either way, you need rest.”

The tent flap opened, letting in a blast of cold air. Edmund stepped inside, carrying a tray laden with food. Jalissa followed, with another tray. Good. They’d brought enough for them and Essie as well.

Until the smell of roast beef and bread filled the air, Essie hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Her stomach gave a loud gurgle.

On the cot, Farrendel shifted, his head turning toward her. Essie was going to blame the blast of cold air for rousing him and not her growling stomach.

“Food is here.” She touched Farrendel’s shoulder. “Are you hungry?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Farrendel?” Jalissa all but dropped her tray on the end table. She fell to her knees next to the cot. She cradled the back of Farrendel’s head, then pressed her forehead to his. “Shashon.”

It was a more touchy-feely gesture than Essie was used to seeing out of elves. But, perhaps, it was saved for I’m-really-glad-you-survived-torture-and-didn’t-die situations. A mere shoulder hug didn’t quite do it.

“Jalissa, isciena.” Farrendel reached a shaky hand and rested it on Jalissa’s shoulder.

Jalissa’s shoulders started shaking. She pulled back and swiped at her face. “I...” She trailed off, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t like she could say he looked well.

Edmund worked his tray onto the small side table until both trays were balanced half-on, half-off the table. “We brought broth for Farrendel. It’s in a mug. The surgeon said it would be easier for Farrendel to drink that way.”

“Good plan.” Essie turned back to Farrendel, reclaiming his hand. “I know you aren’t hungry, but could you try to sip a little bit?”

Even though he was an elf and could probably go longer without food and water than a human, he still needed sustenance.

His gaze flicked to her before he nodded. “I will try.”

Edmund held out a mug to her, and she dipped the end of her pinkie finger into it to check the temperature. It was warm, but not scalding. Safe for sipping.

Working a hand behind Farrendel’s head, she held the mug to his mouth...and promptly splashed far too much broth. Farrendel coughed as