Adrein.
Damien and I dragged Noah across the dusty floorboards, hauling his heavy frame closer to the crackling hearth. Noah let out a quiet, raspy groan as we laid him down on a bed of dry furs, his chest rising and falling in a slow, fragile rhythm. The dark blood on his chin had dried, and though his skin was still ghostly pale, the steady heat from the fire was keeping the cold from taking him.
Damien slowly stood up, wiping his bloody hands against the front of his trousers. His movements were careful, and his face remained tense as he glanced down at Noah before turning his attention toward the heavy oak door.
"He's stable for now," he muttered, his voice low and tired, as his eyes shifted toward the door again, his expression tightening slightly. "I'm going to check the back window and make sure the warding stones around the ridge are holding."
"Okay," I whispered, my voice hoarse and weak.
