“Do you think something—whoa.” A wave of dizziness swept through me.

Saion stopped. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I…” A fiery pain exploded inside me, knocking me backward. I stumbled as the searing burn traveled up my arm and across my chest, stunning in its intensity and suddenness. In a daze, I looked to my right and down, expecting to see an arrow jutting out from me, but I saw nothing but the three scratches down my forearm—and the thin, black lines radiating from the marks and spreading across my skin.

“Shit,” Saion exploded as I bumped into the tree. He gripped my hand, and I barely felt the strange jolt of energy from his touch. “What caused this mark? And don’t you dare say it was a tree. A tree would not do that.”

I tried to swallow, but my throat felt weirdly tight. “I…there were Hunters in the woods. Gyrms. One of them…” A strange, floral taste gathered in the back of my mouth. Tingles swept down my arms, my legs. “I…I don’t feel right.”

“Did one of them scratch you?” The eather behind his pupils pulsed. “Sera, were you scratched?” He lowered his head to my arm and sniffed at the wound.

“Why are…are you smelling me?” My legs went out from underneath me. Light burst behind my eyes as I heard Saion snarl, “Fuck.”

And then I fell into nothing.

Chapter 30

Waking was like fighting my way through thick fog. Brief glimpses of memories were hard to latch on to, and they flipped endlessly through the misty nothingness. A missing woman. A beautiful Primal in a pale-yellow gown and a wounded, silver hawk. Hunters and entombed, hungry gods. A Hunter had scratched me, and it…did something. I’d been dizzy. There had been sudden, intense pain, and then I’d passed out.

The fog cleared as I came to, slowly becoming aware of lying on my stomach and having something soft under my cheek. A different taste gathered in my mouth. Bitter yet sweet.

I inhaled sharply, muscles tensing as I shifted my weight to my forearms, preparing to push up—

“I wouldn’t do that.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, my eyes flew open and locked on the man sitting at the side of the bed. He had long, black hair—almost as long as the god Madis—and streaked with faint lines of crimson. It lay over the shoulders of his loose shirt, untied at the neck. I couldn’t peg his age. His features were broad and proud, only a hint of creasing at the corners of his eyes. He was all but sprawled in the chair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, bare feet resting on the bed, and elbows propped on the arms of the chair, hands hanging loosely to the sides. I didn’t think anyone could look more relaxed, but there was an unmistakable coiled tension thrumming beneath warm, copper skin as if he could spring into action without warning.

As I stared at him, I realized three things at once. I’d never seen this male before. I was completely and utterly nude under a sheet that had been draped over me with no recollection of how that had occurred or why. And his eyes…they weren’t right. The irises were a shade of wine, his pupils were thin, vertical slits, much like…like Davina’s. My heart kicked unsteadily against my chest.

He was a draken.

The man wasn’t smiling or frowning. There was nothing soft about his features. He simply stared at me from where he sat. Tiny bumps broke out across my skin.

“The toxin in your body should be all cleared out by now,” he said. “But if you wish to sit up, I would do so slowly just in case. If you pass out again, it will probably disturb Ash.”

Ash.

This draken was the first person I’d ever heard refer to the Primal by his nickname. “Who…who are you?” I rasped, my throat hoarse and dry.

“We’ve met before.”

My heart pounded even faster. “On…on the road when I first arrived?”

He nodded. “I’m Nektas.”

My gaze swept over him once more. He was a large man. Probably even as tall as Ash, but I still couldn’t imagine him shifting into the massive creature I’d seen on the road. I looked beyond him, past the polished column of the bed, where gauzy white curtains had been tied back. There were only shadowy shapes in the gloom of the room. “Where…where is Ash?”

“He is checking the tombs.” Nektas tipped his head slightly, and a long sheet of black-and-red hair slid over his right arm. “According to him, I am here to make sure you do not wake up and immediately get yourself into trouble.”

That sounded like something he’d say. “I don’t get myself in trouble.”

Nektas raised a brow. “Really?”

I chose to ignore that. “Do I want to know why I’m nude?”

“The toxin was seeping out of your pores. Your clothing was ruined, and you were covered in it.” Ash didn’t think you’d want to wake in such a state,” he told me. “Aios removed your clothing and bathed you.”

Well, that was a relief.

Kind of.

“What kind of toxin?”

“The kind that Gyrms carry in their insides. It spreads through their mouths and nails.” He still hadn’t blinked. “The black streaks on your arms were the first sign. By the time Saion brought you in, those marks covered your entire body. You’re lucky you’re alive.”

My stomach dipped as my gaze shot to my forearm. There were no streaks other than the faint pink scratch marks.

I suddenly remembered what Ash had said about the serpents that had come out of the Hunters. Their bite was toxic. He’d failed to mention the Gyrms’ nails were, as well. “How long have I’ve been asleep?”

“A day,” he answered.

My heart thumped heavily once more. “Why am I not dead?”

“Ash had an antidote,” he stated. “A potion once derived from a plant grown just outside of the Shadowlands near the Red River. The blister weed stops the spread of the toxin, causing the body to expel it. There is very little of the potion to be found. His choice to give it to you saved your life, which was a surprise.”

I honestly had no idea what to say to that. “You think he should’ve let me die?”

A close-lipped smile appeared. “It would’ve served him better not to have given you the potion.”

My gaze lifted to him. “Because he’d be free of the deal then?”

Nektas nodded, confirming that he was one of the few who knew about the deal. “He’d be free of you.”

“Wow,” I murmured.

“I mean no offense,” he replied. “But he did not choose this deal.”

I held his unflinching stare. “Neither did I.”

“And yet, both of you are here.” Nektas lifted his brows. “And he saved your life when it only made sense to let you pass.”

There was a catch in my breath, making it difficult to follow Sir Holland’s instructions. “He probably felt bad,” I reasoned, unsure of why I was even speaking this aloud to the draken. “About the deal. He feels…obligated.”

A tight-lipped smile appeared. “I don’t think his decision had anything to do with that deal. I don’t think any of his recent decisions have.”

Aios arrived shortly after Nektas had left me in a state of confusion. He’d stepped out onto the balcony, and I held the sheet to my chest as she retrieved an ivory robe made of some soft fabric, my thoughts spinning from one thing to the next.

Everything that Ash had done—was doing—was because of the deal. No part of me didn’t believe that Ash felt an obligation toward me—a sense of responsibility I hoped to exploit.

 The bitter taste still lingered in my mouth as Aios brought the robe over to me. “How are you feeling?” she asked. Her face was paler than normal. Concern pinched her brow.

“Not like I’ve been poisoned,” I admitted, tying the sash on the robe around my waist.

“I suppose that is a good thing.” She grabbed several pillows, fluffing them and then propping them against the head of the bed. “I’ll get you something to drink.”