Alaric’s POV
Pain is a language I’ve spoken since I was six.
A broken leg is just a tip. Then comes Hazel. Her voice “I’m with you” ,that’s the only word that matters.
She walks beside me now, close enough that her shoulder brushes mine every third step. She thinks I don’t notice. I notice everything when it comes to her. The way she bites her lip when I limp. The way her fingers twitch toward me, then stop. Like she’s afraid to touch and afraid not to.
“You’re bleeding through the bandage,” she says.
“I know.”
“Alaric…”
“It’ll hold.” It won’t. But we don’t have three days. We don’t have three hours. Vincent’s howl was half a mile back. Close.
Dominic takes point, silent. He hasn’t looked at me since the caves. Since Hazel chose to walk beside me instead of him. Good. Let him c
