The Forbidden Wolf King: Kings of Avalier, Book 4(22)

I took one step and then stumbled forward with a cry. It was so much worse than I thought; hot pain like fire licked up my ankle and caused sweat to bead my brow.

‘Pain is temporary. Work around it.’ Cyrus’ voice came to me then. It was as if he could feel my distress all the way from his place on Death Mountain and was trying to counsel me.

I looked around frantically and nearly wept with relief when I saw a long sturdy branch that I could use as a walking stick. Hoping over to it, while keeping Eliza on my shoulders, took talent but when I got there, I bent down to pick it up. It was thick, not completely straight but straight enough. Ripping the extra branches from it, I fisted the tip of it and stuck the blunt end into the ground, walking forward cautiously.

It still hurt, but it took enough weight off my ankle that the pain was bearable. Though I had to keep Eliza balanced on my shoulders with just one hand, I was managing. The flat landscape was forgiving. I was thankful I didn’t have to jump over any fallen logs or giant rocks but after the second hour I started to go slightly insane.

Eliza was hot and heavy, my ribs seemed to be healing but now my stomach was eating itself inside out, begging for food. As a shifter I burned more calories than a human on a normal day, but an injured shifter could eat enough food for twenty humans.

My foot was a constant throb and sometimes a sharp stab if I moved too quickly.

By the fourth hour I wanted to die. Eliza had passed out again, her head flopping against my neck. I reached a few dark minutes where I considered leaving her. It would be much easier to walk without the giant wolf around my shoulders.

Pain is temporary, I told myself.

Except when it’s not. When it’s going on for several hours of pain and hunger, it felt very permanent.

I started to sing then. Lightly, so I wouldn’t waste energy but I had to do something or I would go completely mad.

“When the little baby wolf went over the ridge, over the ridge …” I smiled as I was reminded of my baby brother Oslo and the songs I would sing him to sleep with, “… he found his mama wolf in the meadow.” I finished and was shocked when a tear slipped down my cheek and into Eliza’s fur.

I had officially cracked.

I never cried. Tears were for weak submissives who needed protection. Not me. Not Zara Swiftwater, daughter of an alpha.

Reaching up, I smacked myself across the cheek and shook my head.

Get it together, Zara.

Only by pulling on every ounce of my strength was I going to survive this. Now was not the time to go soft.

Somehow, I walked for another six hours, taking as few breaks as possible, until I felt dead inside and out.

I stared up at the sun, making sure for the hundredth time I was going south and then looked out on the horizon.

A sob left my throat when I saw the back side of Death Mountain come into view. It was far off in the distance, but it was there.

We made it.

“Almost there. Hang on, ’Liza,” I told her and pushed forward with a renewed strength.

By my estimate it took another two hours to finally reach the base of the mountain. I’d been walking for over twelve hours, the sun was setting in the sky and I was dead on my feet but somehow I kept going. The broken barren land turned to lush forest abruptly and pretty soon I was having to amble over fallen trees and sharp inclines.

Everything hurt. It burned, it throbbed, it pounded like a heartbeat in my foot but not more than my desire to get us both to safety, to food and rest.

Climbing up the back of that mountain tested my soul to its very limits. I fell twice. Dropped Eliza once. I cried, I screamed, I howled and finally when I came up over the ridge … I’d made it. I was covered in blood and dirt and my foot was black and purple and bent at an odd angle. Eliza looked half-dead, she smelled rotten, and she was center of the sun hot, but I could still hear her heartbeat.

The noises of the people of Death Mountain pulled at my ears and I followed the sound, all but dragging myself through the thick woods and into the open grassy knoll at the base of the castle.

People stared as I limped forward, naked and barely alive, towards the blue champion tent and then all at once there was shouting.

“Champions are back!”

“Get her water!”

“Medical!” one lady screamed as she frantically took in my distressed state and started to rush forward.

I couldn’t hold on any longer; at the sight of safety my strength had fled. The crowd parted and then Axil jogged forward with wide panicked eyes, taking me in from head to toe. I stumbled, swaying on my feet.

The woman who had called for help took Eliza off my shoulders and I tried to stay upright but my legs suddenly felt like they were made of liquid with no substance to keep them standing.

One second I was looking at Axil’s terrified gaze and the next I was falling. His arms crashed around me and then I was enveloped with his scent.

Maker, I missed that smell. I missed the way I felt tucked against his muscular chest.

“She brought in another wolf!” someone commented.

“Why would she do that? She could have left her?” another said as they attended to Eliza and my vision started to blur.

Axil reached out and traced my jaw like he had a hundred times, all while holding my gaze. “Because that’s Zara. She’s loyal.”

He said it like he knew my soul inside and out and to be seen like that, it made a part of me come alive again. A part I thought had died.