Page 89 of A Prince So Cruel

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“Oh, God!” I pulled back into my hiding place, stomach churning. The horrible sight was imprinted in my retinas for several sickening moments. I tried to think of something else, anything else: home, my cozy bed, the hospital with its long, sterile halls, my patients smiling happily, anything to erase that blank stare from my mind.

The sounds of battle continued all around me.

Damn, why didn’t I know how to fight? I felt useless.

“I got him,” Cylea shouted, then there was a grunt of pain, followed by athud.

“There are two more. Over there,” this from Kryn.

“Careful!” Arabis cried out.

Another grunt.

“He’s down!”

No!

Unable to stop myself, I stuck my head out again. Jeondar was on the ground, an arrow protruding from his stomach. His face was contorted in pain, teeth bared, as he tried to push with his legs to hide behind a nearby boulder. Another arrow whizzed down and hit his leg.

He screamed in pain.

Without thinking, I let go of the horses’ reins and ran toward Jeondar.

“Daniella, stay back!” Kalyll shouted, but I was running at full pelt, my legs and arms pumping as I zigzagged, hoping to avoid being hit. Several arrows sailed too close for comfort, but they missed me. I skidded to a stop next to Jeondar, my boots kicking back gravel.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he chided, as I hooked my hands under his arms and started pulling him behind the rock, his uninjured leg pushing, helping me with the bulk of his considerable weight.

“You’re welcome,” I said between grunts.

Another arrow zoomed by his already injured leg. It sliced through his trousers, but only grazing him, then inserting itself into the ground. With one last effort, I managed to pull him entirely to safety, falling flat on my butt. I scrambled to a kneeling position and quickly assessed his injuries. Dark blood stained his tunic, quickly blossoming. I checked the leg injury next. It was bleeding, but not profusely. Not the priority.

I placed my hands over his stomach wound.

He twisted in pain. “Take it out!”

“No. It might make things worse. Stay still,” I ordered. “I need to assess your injuries first.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to ignore the sounds of battle. I did my best to construct that mental picture of his injury and the exact position of the arrow. Once more, it was hard not having a visual aid. It took great effort to get a rough idea of his internal injuries, though not as much as last time. Based on the image I formed, I was confident I could pull the arrow out without further injury. My eyes popped open.

“So?” Jeondar demanded.

“I’m taking it out. Don’t move.”

He gritted his teeth.

I placed a hand around the wound and grabbed the arrow with the other. Without preamble, I yanked it out.

Jeondar growled, but I immediately got to work healing him, mending veins and tissue. When I was done, he exhaled in relief and threw his head back.

“Now your leg.”

I started evaluating the second injury. This time, it didn’t take as long, and within a few minutes, the arrow was out and the wound repaired. He sat up, looking a bit woozy. He’d lost blood, but not so much that he would pass out.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’ve now saved three members of the Summer Court. What would we do without you?”

I couldn’t help my bitter retort. “Remain untouched by the low-born?”

Jeondar cocked his head to one side. “It’s not like that, Dani.”


Tags: Ingrid Seymour Fantasy