“You going to be okay?” Ridley questions.
“I always am, aren’t I?”
My brother snorts. “Sure, says the fae who had his wings chopped off.” He steps forward and clasps a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“The ancient has seen you now, Ridley. Stay safe.”
“I will.” With a grin, my brother disappears.
Ember groans and curls into herself. I rush over to the washbasin and wet a clean cloth placed beside it. Then, returning to her, I dab her forehead gently, unease churning in my gut. Being here should help her.
It should slow the disease so she can feel comfort. So we can have more time.
Unless…what if I was too late?