of a wraith, but I also didn’t want to die alone.
Another vial was pushed against my lips and tipped up. I drank it, staring up into Torrin’s icy gaze as the tonic sent heat rushing through me, colliding with the iciness that filled my limbs. I really didn’t want to die here, but it wasn’t looking as if we’d get a choice in the matter. Torrin would probably collect my stones and rub his stupid balls with them if I died.
That meant I had to fight. I had a mission to finish, an entire race depending on the cure for moon sickness. I was a warrior, one of only a handful of assassins with the skillset to accomplish this goal. No, Torrin was right, which pissed me off. This wasn’t how I died. I’d fight, and I’d see this through. I had to survive because Landon was somewhere in this kingdom, and I intended to find him and save him from the sickness, no matter the cost.
Chapter Fourteen
My eyes were heavy, and my body felt fragile and weak as I came to from the nightmares plaguing my dreams. I pushed up from the bed, searching through the shadows of the room. Struggling to get upright, or at least into a sitting position, took effort. The door opened, and Torrin entered, moving toward me as I tried to stand but fell into his arms.
“You’re not healed enough to be up and moving yet, woman,” he growled, settling me back into bed.
“I need to see who lived,” I demanded, and he winced. “They’re my family!”
“You lost seven, Alexandria. I’m sorry, but they couldn’t be saved. Most died before we could get them away from the wraiths. Amo survived, though,” he offered, and I turned away from him as pain sliced through me violently with the losses.
“We shouldn’t even be here,” I whispered, sucking my lip between my teeth and biting it to null the pain inside of me until I tasted blood.
“But you are. You intended to come into our kingdom one way or another. You knew there would be losses,” he stated, pushing the hair away from my face. “You didn’t scar, not badly anyway.”
“Do you think I care if I scarred?” I snorted, turning angry eyes on him. “Seven people lost their lives because you drugged us, Torrin.”
“So it’s my fault?” he scoffed.
He stood, pacing beside the bed before he stopped and stared down at me, with anger humming palpably through the room. I turned onto my side, forcing my body to the edge of the bed to sit up. Dropping my head into my hands, I shuddered. My stomach churned, and my heart thumped against my ribcage. My head spun with guilt, and my eyes lifted to hold his.
“It’s your fault we’re here. It’s also my fault because, as their leader, I failed to assess and see the possibility of this outcome. I miscalculated and didn’t count on treachery before reaching the kingdom.”
“So what now, Lexia? You go into seven years of self-suffering because you couldn’t control the situation? That’s not how this works. You were captured, held prisoner, and drugged. You want to blame someone, blame me.”
“Just shut up,” I groaned, hating the pang of self-loathing and grief that rocked through me.
“You need to crawl your tiny ass back into that bed. You’re not healed enough to be out of it yet. It’s only been three days since the attack. The poison from the wraiths held you in a high fever that only broke this morning. You need to allow your body to heal and rest.”
“I need to see them, Torrin,” I argued, but he ignored me.
He forced me into bed, lying on his side next to me. He gazed into my grief-stricken eyes with understanding, sending more pain rocking through my body to wrench my heart tightly.
This man led legions into battle, and while he’d probably lost thousands of men and women, my team was brought up together since the moment the Order took us away from our families. We were sisters, raised to fight together, to do everything together, so we were better together.
Torrin’s hand lifted, pushing the hair away from my face while slowly exhaling. One minute I was in bed with him, and the next, we were standing in the ruins of the house that had exploded. I shivered against the heat, touching my back, and turned, peering over my shoulder into a dark, angry stare, no longer the color of freshly frozen