I wrapped my fingers around Marcus’s cold hand, squeezing gently, hoping—ridiculously—that my warmth might reach him wherever his spirit had wandered.
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone, pup,” I whispered, leaning close so only he could hear. “Not like this.”
My voice trembled, but I forced the words out anyway.
“I’m not giving up the way you did. I’ll keep fighting. Until my last breath, Marcus. I swear it.”
I pressed my lips against his knuckles.
Salt touched my tongue. Tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.
Slowly, painfully, I straightened.
My legs protested with every step, but I forced them to carry me out of the infirmary chamber. If I stayed one moment longer, I would collapse beside his bed and never rise again.
---
The corridor beyond felt endless.
The air smelled of herbs, antiseptic smoke, and quiet grief.
Somewhere down the hall a healer murmured soft reassurances to a frightened mother cradling her injured pup, and the sound nearly broke me.
Where was I supposed to go now?
I had no work.