Page 83 of Reaper's Quest

But for now…

Now she studied the air around Raven in such a way thatWinter suspected she saw something the rest of them couldn’t. Whether thatsomethingexisted on a different plane or merely in her head, he had no idea.

Myla waved as if greeting someone unseen, then she swung her arms through the open space beside Raven, like she was trying to disperse a haze.

Raven whimpered. “Not yet,” slipped from her lips.

Winter leaned forward in his seat and clenched his jaw. He stared intently at the room: Raven bandaged and bleeding, the small workbench doubling as a bed, the solemn girls, the open and dim spaces. Nothing visible provided any new answers.

What does Myla think she sees? And what is the truth about Raven?

Camilla rapped her fingers on the wooden table. “I don’t suppose you’re going to stick around and help?”

She didn’t need to specify what she hoped Winter would help with. After all, he’d deposited the broken female in Camilla’s back room, creating the extra burden.

“What do you need me to do?” he countered.

Camilla had, to the best of her knowledge and know-how, patched and medicated Raven. In this situation, he would defer, without question, to her experience and wisdom.

Camilla detailed all tasks in which she believed Winter would be useful and set him to work.

Having never before cared for the ill or injured, he tended to Raven’s needs as best he knew how, which wasn’t much. He continuously wiped the sweat from her exposed skin and replaced the compress on her brow with a fresh, cool one as needed. He also helped Camilla organize the room to bestaccommodate any care needs that might arise during Raven’s recovery process.

Assuming she did recover.

Her skin appeared too white, felt too hot, and her face and lips too pale and drawn. She didn’t look well. Not well at all.

He pulled up a chair and took a seat at her side.

Maybe she would end up like Myla, trapped in an unwell state for the rest of her days. Or maybe she would end up like the other member of her group. The one who had yet to wake up. The one Aoes had the healer tend to daily.

Winter didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of Raven never waking left an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. An unhappy and unwanted weight.

He knew it was a mistake to become terribly vested in her fate. She was still a stranger to him, and their paths hadn’t profoundly mingled. And yet…

With the tip of his finger, he drew a line along the edge of her face. Her facial features looked soft and relaxed, but only moments ago, they had tensed with some unseen distress.

What nightmares plagued your thoughts?

In a moment of semi-clarity, she had mentioned Valen, suggesting he might have an answer regarding treatment for her ill friend.

How did Raven know Valen? And if she had spoken a sober truth,wouldValen have the answer to help her? What was their connection, and did Valen know more than he had advised the court?

“Please.” Raven’s body shook. Her word sounded tiny, only just audible. “Not yet.”

“I’ll be back,” he whispered at her ear, dragging his fingers slowly over the length of her uncovered arm.

Winter rose from his seat, donned his jacket and a hooded scarf to hide his identifying features, and headed for the front door. Came face-to-face with Camilla in the kitchen doorway.

“Where are you going?” Something in her eyes caused him a momentary pause.

Was that hurt he saw? No sooner had he noted the emotion than it wiped from her face.

Hurt didn’t make sense to him. Irritation, yes, but not hurt.

“I need to check on a few things. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He stepped into the street, ignoring Camilla’s complaints and words of frustration.

He’d make everything up to her, for all that she was doing and all that she was. He owed her that and more.