AYLA'S POV
The Frost fang wind cut through us like knives as we staggered into the hollow of a narrow cave, hidden behind a curtain of icicles. Snow and shadows muffled the world outside, but the echoes of the battle—the cracking ice, Cassia's laughter, the beast's voice—still rang in my skull.
Kael lowered me against the cold stone, his hands firm but trembling. Blood streaked his jaw, his black hair damp with sweat and melted snow. His golden eyes were wild, scanning my shoulder.
"You're bleeding too much."
"I've had worse," I muttered, forcing a faint smile I didn't feel.
He ripped open a pouch, hands moving with clipped, furious precision as he pressed a poultice to my shoulder. His voice was raw. "You shouldn't have jumped in front of it. I could've—"
"You couldn't," I whispered, meeting his gaze. "Not this one. It wanted me."
