LIAM’S P.O.V
The walk back to camp was slow. Too slow for my liking. Darian leaned heavily on me, his legs trembling every few steps. His breath hissed through his teeth like every inhale scraped fire against his ribs. The cold air didn’t help. It wrapped around us, sharp and bitter, turning his shivers violent.
“Do you want me to carry you?” I asked.
“No,” he muttered.
“Because it will hurt your pride?”
“Because you drop people.”
I snorted. “I dropped you one time.”
“You threw me into a lake.”
“You needed a bath.”
He let out something between a wheeze and a laugh. “You are still an idiot.”
“And you’re still ungrateful,” I said. “I come all the way up a cursed ridge to rescue you, and this is what I get?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes drifted half shut. His weight slumped heavier a
