The Vow (Black Arrowhead #1) - Dannika Dark Page 0,102

when metal glinted from above. The beam of light stopped on Crow’s owl, and as he lost balance grasping for a branch, something fell from his beak. I drew in a sharp breath when I realized what I’d seen.

“Lakota!” Before I finished saying his name, the knife made a quick descent and disappeared.

I sat paralyzed for a moment. As Lakota slowly pivoted toward me, he collapsed onto his back.

“No!” I scrambled to his side on my hands and knees.

When I reached for the knife handle, Kaota seized my shoulders.

“Wait! You’ll kill him.”

That was enough to stop me in my tracks.

He placed one hand on Lakota’s chest and aimed the light on it. “There’s a hook on the top of the knife, and it’s penetrated his chest. If you twist it the wrong way, you might slice his heart or an artery.”

Instead of the blade being in his body to the hilt like with most stab wounds, it had fallen at an angle since he’d been standing up.

“Slow your heart,” Kaota urged. “I’m going to do this fast, but you need to shift as soon as it comes out. Not a second later. It will hurt, so don’t lose awareness. Embrace the pain—let it guide you.”

My hands were shaking, my chest tight, tears welling in my eyes. How could this be happening? Had I not struck the owl, would he have dropped the knife? Oh, please no… Not Lakota.

Crow bellowed from where he’d fallen and shifted. He tried desperately to break the tip of the arrow jutting out of his chest so he could pull it out and heal.

Kaota gave me a cursory glance. “We must hurry. Hold him down.”

I laughed mirthlessly. “Do you really think I’m strong enough to manage that?”

He gave me a stern look, so I anchored my hands on Lakota’s shoulder. Blood trickled from the wound but not much since the blade was still in place.

“It should come clean out,” Kaota promised, lightly touching the handle. “I can’t see if it twisted when it went inside him. If it did, he could die instantly.”

“Quit talking and just do it! You’re wasting time.”

Then I realized how frightening this must be for Lakota. I leaned over his face and searched for some sign that he could hear me. His eyes were open, but he was somewhere else—in a dark place that people went when hanging on to this world by a delicate thread. Lakota must have instinctively gone catatonic, knowing that one wrong twist or deep breath could pierce his heart. He was short of breath, and his color was off.

“Look at me,” I whispered, tears slipping down my nose.

It felt as if the knife were in my chest. Pain glittered in his eyes, but his strength shone through. Lakota dragged his gaze to meet with mine, and a peaceful look softened his features.

“Freckles,” he whispered.

I couldn’t bear it. “Stay still. You’re not allowed to breathe.”

His lips twitched.

“You can’t die on me,” I continued. “You won’t. This isn’t how it ends. Do you hear me? The second he pulls the knife out, I want you to shift. Then shift right back. Keep doing it as many times as you can.” I cradled his head in my hands, my thumbs lightly brushing over his thick eyebrows. Never had there been a more courageous man than Lakota Cross.

When his mouth moved silently, I bent over and put my ear against his lips.

“You were… so beautiful,” he whispered.

Memories flashed in my mind—Lakota’s bright smile, how fast he could run when we raced to the creek as children, the way he always looked out for his little sister, how fiercely he held me, how tender his lips were against mine, the way his face beamed whenever he saw his family. Memories scattered like ashes in the wind, resting on a final image of me in his arms, surrounded by his smell and soft words as I drifted to sleep. I’d never felt so safe and protected with anyone, not even my own family.

I was going to lose him—right there in my arms.

“Let’s do this so I can put the knife in that white man,” Kaota growled. He lightly gripped the handle and whispered the dreaded countdown.

Lakota clenched his teeth and stared at the night sky. I braced my hands on his shoulders, a quiet prayer on my lips.

Kaota lifted his arm lightning fast, and I cringed at the terrible sound as the knife ripped out. A piece of flesh hung from the hook,