Chapter 12 · Outrunning Shadows

"Sit still, or I’m stitching your mouth shut next," Sloane snapped, her voice tight with a mix of panic and exhaustion.

She shoved a blood-soaked rag against the jagged gash in Kaelen’s side. He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just stared at her with those unsettling, golden-flecked eyes, watching her hands shake as she worked.

"You're trembling," Kaelen remarked. His voice was too smooth, too calm for a man who had just taken a blade to the ribs to protect her.

"I'm trembling because we're five miles from the nearest safe house and the Inquisitors are probably sniffing our trail like hounds," she shot back. She pressed harder on the wound, and this time, he let out a sharp, hissed breath.

Sloane didn't stop. She couldn't. She reached for the shimmering vial of alchemical salve, her fingers fumbling with the stopper. The air in the damp cellar of the abandoned mill was thick with the smell of rot and old rain, but all she could smell was the metallic tang of his blood.

"Why do you care?" Kaelen asked. He shifted, his shoulder brushing against hers in the cramped space.