Kane found the wounded fighter half a mile from the treeline, propped against a rock, barely conscious.
"Reeve," Kane said, dropping to his knees beside him.
"Not dead yet." Reeve's voice was a rasp, blood crusted along his jaw. "Crawled this far before I stopped being able to."
Ottilie was already checking the wound, hands moving fast, expression unreadable. "This is bad, Kane. He needs Senna now, not in an hour."
"Then we move now." Kane got an arm under Reeve, hauling him up despite the man's weak protest, Talyn taking the other side without being asked.
They'd gone back out at first light, a small party, against Ottilie's better judgment, to search the retreat path for anyone who might have survived the fall. Cassius's fighters hadn't pursued past the ridge. Kane still didn't unde
