Page 113 of Full Moon
Chapter 49
Khal
My Precious….
What Feray did last night was nothing short of a miracle, and the enormity of it presses down on me like the weight of the mountain itself. She froze and held a quarter of a warm water lake solid, creating a path for her pack to cross. My mind keeps replaying the moment—the way the ice formed beneath her command, defying nature itself.
I lean against the rough stone wall, watching as Diaval and Torben fuss over her. Their movements are quick and precise, filled with a concern that matches my own. I remain where I am, observing like I always do, trying to keep the worry gnawing at my insides from showing on my face.
She's going to ride in the sled until we reach the opening, and then we'll start the task of climbing down the mountain.
I frown, my gaze locking onto Feray's fragile form. In her weakened state, there's no doubt she's going to fall and get hurt. The thought makes my chest tighten, frustration rising withinme. We've seen her pull off miracles, but now she's paying the price, and it's too high for my liking.
"I know that look, Khal," Easton says, breaking through my thoughts as he moves closer.
"What look?"
"Like we wish we could do more, but there's no room for us to squeeze in." Easton arches a brow. It's about as real as I've ever seen him be with me, and it hits a nerve I didn't know was exposed.
"Yeah, there's that," I admit, my voice a low rumble. "Then there's the logistics of getting her down the mountain in her weakened state. She needs rest and food."
I motion toward Feray. "Look at her. Her cheeks are hollow, there are dark circles under her eyes. Her lips are pale, and so is her skin."
I study my mate like I always do, every detail burning into my mind. She's so weak, but she's putting on such a brave face for Torben and Diaval, and it makes me want to break something. The thought of her climbing down that mountain, each step a potential hazard, sends a surge of protectiveness through me. I clench my fists. I can only watch and wait, trusting that when the time comes, I'll be there to catch her if she falls.
Feray's weak voice slices through the air. "Khal? Easton?" I'm at her side in a heartbeat, Easton just a step behind. I drop to my knees, my hands trembling as I cradle her face, pressing kiss after kiss against her cool skin.
"I saw the fear in your shift's eyes," she whispers. Her cold, lithe hands frame my face, her gaze locking onto mine witha vulnerability that makes my chest tighten. "Thank you for feeding me."
She pulls me down, her lips brushing mine in a tender kiss. The softness, the way she sags against me—it all screams exhaustion. "I'm so tired," she breathes. I nod, already knowing the toll it's taken on her.
"You're going to ride in the sled until we get to the mouth of the cavern," Easton says, his voice firm but gentle. He leans in, placing a kiss on her temple. "After that, we'll figure out how to get you down the mountain."
"I can carry her down," Torben offers, his voice a low rumble as he nuzzles her cheek. His frame seems to swell with the extra bulk of his bear. "We have that bolt of fabric Feray loved. We can use it like the sows do with their cubs, securing her to my back." He's the logical choice—strong enough to bear her weight, careful enough to keep her safe.
A smirk tugs at my lips. "I'll shift and slither alongside you, just in case you lose your footing. My coils can support you if needed."
Diaval nods his approval, and Feray lets out a soft giggle, though it's cut short by a yawn. I reach into the bag and pull out another hunk of meat. She takes it without hesitation, devouring it on instinct, then curls into Torben as sleep claims her once more.
We move as a unit, carefully lifting her into the sled, settling her between the rucksacks. Every movement is deliberate, measured, ensuring she remains comfortable. Torben moves to the front of the sled with quiet determination, tossing his briefs into the sled. His transformation into bear form is slow, each movement calculated as he aligns himself with the harness.
I watch him carefully, knowing the only person he usually trusts to adjust the harness is now asleep inside the sled he's about to pull. I approach slowly. "Tor? The main strap is twisted. Can I adjust it for you?"
He shifts his massive head to meet my gaze, then tosses his head in what I assume is agreement. My fingers hover over the thick material for a moment before I carefully straighten the strap.
"This side too, big guy," I murmur, moving around to the other side, working quickly but with precision. He huffs out a breath—almost a sigh—then tosses his head a few times before moving forward. I take that as his way of saying thanks.
Easton rushes to the front, alert and ready. Diaval's voice echoes softly as he calls the pack to order, and we fall into formation behind Torben. The tunnel looms ahead, dark and winding, the path uncertain. But with each step, the tension eases just a little.
Some time later.
"We're almost out of supplies," I mention to Diaval as we navigate the rocky path. The air is cool, the wind cutting through my clothes, but it's the least of my worries. The real concern lies in the dwindling rations.
"I'll hunt for the family and pack when we get to the forest floor," Diaval replies, his voice steady. He does that tilt of his head—the one that always irritates Feray. I've seen her eye twitch enough times to know she's seconds away from snapping when he does it.
Then, out of nowhere, his words hit like a sledgehammer. "You've done very well, Khal. My initial judgment of you was incorrect. I apologize for any past transgressions, perceived or otherwise. You're a good man and mate." I stop in my tracks, the chill biting into me as I process his words. My heart pounds—a mix of disbelief and something I can't quite name.
Never in my existence did I think I would hear something like that from a dragon. Especially not from Diaval. He's always been civil, never harsh, but never overly friendly either. I always figured it was because he didn't want to deal with me, or maybe he was scared Feray would harm his favorite parts if he crossed a line.
