White Stag (PERMAFROST #1)

Chapter Seventeen: Growth

Soren sighed, shaking his head. He came over to my other side as I leaned to watch him. He took my bandaged hand in his, gentle as could be, and slowly started to unwrap the wound. "I need to dress it again," he said, "so it smells bad, I'm sorry."

I gritted my teeth, expecting the worst. Slowly, the bandages were peeled back from the flesh with a sickening sticky noise; it had to be bad. It had to be. The bandages were colored red and black throughout, soaked in my blood.

Finally, he pulled the last of the wrapping away. The smell hit me first and I recognized the sour ointment smeared across my skin. Tanya used it before for burns. The skin was inflamed and bright red with black, scale-like patches all around. It oozed a bit from a few open sores, but the liquid was clear, not pussy. A good sign. I tried to move it and with a burst of panic found I couldn't.

"Why can't I move it?"
"Skadi deadened it so you wouldn't feel the pain; unfortunately that also means you can't move it right now. You'll get feeling back in a while." He sat back against the rock. I nibbled on the food he offered me and drank when he shoved the waterskin next to me, but we talked little. For a long time there was only silence and a wave of heat between both of our bodies. I was just evading the inevitable after all.

"What did Skadi say about Lydian?" I asked, breaking the long silence.

Soren cast a glance outside. "You know that a Hunt never lasts longer than until the next new moon, right?"

"Well, there's a reason for that. Normally the contest ends by its own natural means before the month is up. But if it draws itself out longer, the spirit of the Permafrost forces the Stag forward toward the two goblins most likely to become the new Erlking. If the new moon comes and the Stag hasn't been slayed, then it will happen." He swallowed. "What's more is that if during this time it's killed on the border along with the losing competitor, the cycle will stop."

A shiver went through me. Soren's voice was calm but he couldn't not be worried. He was Lydian's only competition. "Can't you just avoid Lydian and hunt the Stag?" I asked.

He shook his head. "We'll be drawn together, someway, somehow."

I thought back to the sliver of moonlight outside. The new moon wasn't long off. By the time it came we may all be dead. "It must be why goblins are flocking to Lydian," I said. "His power is showing and they're all jockeying for a piece of it."

Soren snorted. "Yeah, none to me though. Guess that says something about my odds."

He slumped down, burying his head in his hands. It tugged at my heart to see him look so defeated. We'd figure out a way to defeat Lydian; I was sure of it. Somehow, someway.

Feeling stronger, I sat next to him, leaning against the dark rock. He rose his head, eyes flickering up and down my body as his shoulders tensed.

"You really shouldn't do that," he whispered, eyes closed.

"Do what?" His eyelids were pale blue under the soft light of the cave. He rested his head back. His hair was loose again and is spilled across his shoulders and chest. It was so long. It took decades for things to age even a month in the Permafrost. How long had he spent growing out his hair? I scowled; it wasn't fair that he looked the way he did and I looked like a scarred whore.

"Tempt me so much. It might not end well for you." His eyelashes fluttered.

"Don't be absurd. How could I tempt you?"