Remember me..

8. Saving Liam?

Embla

Finn is on the floor, his head nestled against Liam's chest, his breath rising and falling in sync with his brother's. The sight tugs at something deep inside me, and my heart clenches. The bond between them is so palpable, so raw. I know Liam’s chances of making it through the night are slim. The fever is burning through him like wildfire, and I’ve never seen someone deteriorate this fast. Despite the pain I’ve been through, it shocks me that I’m starting to feel... fine. My wounds, once gaping and raw, have stopped bleeding, some have even begun to close. There’s no fever, no infection.

'It’s probably our enhanced healing abilities,' Aska comments, her voice a calm presence in my mind, though I can sense her concern beneath the surface.

Liam strokes Finn’s head gently, his fingers trembling. The movement is slow, each stroke of his hand betraying how much energy it costs him. “Finn, it’s getting late. Time for you to get some rest, buddy.” His voice is a ragged whisper, roughened by pain and exhaustion.

Finn whines softly, a low sound full of reluctance, his golden eyes wide with worry. He presses closer to his brother, unwilling to leave him in this state. Liam’s eyes flicker toward mine, and there’s something unspoken in them, a silent plea. He doesn’t want Finn to see him like this. He doesn’t want his little brother to witness his suffering.

"Come on, Finn," I murmur, moving closer to the wolf and patting his flank gently. "I'll stay with Liam. You need to rest, too."

Finn hesitates, torn between his protective instincts and the command from his brother. His golden eyes meet mine, searching as if trying to judge whether I can be trusted with something so precious. Finally, with a resigned huff, he nuzzles Liam’s hand one last time before turning toward a bedroom. His footsteps are slow, reluctant. The soft creak of the door lingers in the air as I close it behind him, leaving it slightly ajar.

I turn back to Liam, and my heart sinks. His eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, each breath shallow and strained. Sweat beads on his forehead and his face is flushed with fever. I grab another cloth, soaking it in cool water before gently pressing it to his skin, dabbing at his forehead and neck in a desperate attempt to cool him down.

"You're not fine," I whisper, more to myself than to him, pressing my hand to his forehead. He’s burning up, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. "The fever's getting worse."

Liam’s eyes c***k open, meeting mine with a flicker of vulnerability that vanishes as quickly as it appears, replaced by the ghost of a smirk. "Are you always this pessimistic?" His voice is barely audible, but the familiar sarcasm is still there, clinging to him like a defence mechanism.

I ignore his attempt to deflect. "Liam," I say, my voice quieter now, more uncertain. "I… I might be able to help. But I don’t know how."

His brow furrows, a weak frown pulling at his lips. "What do you mean?"

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm a hybrid, part nymph," I admit softly, the words heavy on my tongue. "I have healing abilities, but… I’ve never used them before. I don’t know if it’ll work, or if it could make things worse."

For a moment, Liam stares at me, his fever-bright eyes wide with surprise, curiosity flickering through the pain. "That explains a few things," he mutters, his voice barely more than a breath. Then, with a grimace of pain, he adds, "At this point… I’m willing to try anything."

I nod, though my heart is racing with doubt. "Okay. Just... try to relax."

But before I can begin, Liam grabs hold of my hand, his grip weak but insistent. His eyes meet mine, filled with a seriousness that cuts through the haze of fever. "There’s something I need to do first," he whispers, squeezing my hand as tightly as he can manage. "I know this is a lot to ask… but if I don’t make it, something we both know is very likely at this point… I need to know Finn will be taken care of."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Liam, no. I’m not going to let that happen." My voice cracks, and I shake my head, cutting him off before he can say more. "You saved my life today. I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you survive. But if I can’t… if I fail, I promise you, I’ll take care of Finn."

He blinks, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You’d do that?" His voice is tinged with disbelief, as though he can’t fathom anyone taking on such a burden. "All I wanted to ask was… do you think your pack would take him in? I know you said you can't go back, but… you haven’t cut ties with them, so I assume you plan on returning?"

I bite my lip, startled by the question. "Oh, that’s not what I expected."

"I know… it’s not fair to ask," he rasps, his voice faltering as the effort of speaking takes its toll. "But I can’t… I can’t leave him alone."

“You’re wrong, Liam. You saved me. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even be here having this conversation,” I say, feeling the weight of the promise settle in my chest. "My pack will take Finn in, no questions. I guarantee it."

A small, tired smile pulls at Liam’s lips, his breath growing shorter. "Thank you," he whispers, but his words are fading, as is the strength in his voice.

'We don’t have time to wait, Embla,' Aska warns her voice tight with urgency.

“Ready, Liam?” I ask softly.

All I get in return is a weak nod. This isn’t good.

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. My hands hover over Liam’s chest, feeling the fragile, rapid rise and fall of his breathing. Slowly, I place them down, my palms resting over his heart. I close my eyes, reaching for that part of me that I’m not too familiar with yet, the part that holds the nymph magic within me.

At first, nothing. Fear starts to coil in my stomach, cold and sharp. What if I can't do this? What if I’m too late?

'Breathe,' Aska urges gently. 'Focus on the spark you felt earlier.'

I close my eyes tighter, searching for it. And then, I feel it, a faint pulse beneath my palms. It’s not just Liam’s heartbeat; it’s something deeper, something elemental. A current of energy, weak and flickering, but still there.

Instinctively, I reach for it, pushing my own energy into his, trying to strengthen that flicker of life. It feels like wading into a stream, the water rushing around me as I push forward, willing my energy to flow into him, to fight back against the infection that’s ravaging his body.

Suddenly, a wave of his pain crashes into me. I gasp, overwhelmed by the sheer force of it, every nerve in my body screaming in agony. But I hold on, gritting my teeth, and slowly- so slowly—I channel that pain, transforming it into something else. Healing.

And then, something changes. Before my eyes, the angry red of Liam’s wounds begins to fade, the edges knitting together with each pulse of energy. His breathing, once ragged and shallow, starts to even out, the fever flush receding from his skin. I can feel the infection retreating, his body growing stronger beneath my hands.

The connection between us pulses with life, a brilliant, shimmering thread of energy binding us together. But the process is draining, pulling everything from me. My limbs tremble with the effort, my vision blurring at the edges. I can’t stop. Not now.

Suddenly, Liam’s eyes fly open, clear and sharp. The pain, the fever, the delirium—it’s all gone. He looks at me, his gaze full of awe, and something else I can’t quite name. His hand reaches up, covering mine, and a jolt of energy shoots through me at the contact.

"Stop," he says, his voice stronger now, urgent. "You’re going to hurt yourself."

I blink, dazed, as I realize he’s sitting up. My hands fall from his chest, and the effort of everything crashes down on me at once. The darkness rushes in like a tidal wave, and before I can say anything, it swallows me whole.

I blink awake, my eyelids heavy and dry, the world around me hazy and unfocused. Soft morning light seeps through the cabin windows, casting golden beams that dance across the wooden floor. Everything feels unfamiliar, from the rough texture of the blanket against my skin to the faint scent of pine lingering in the air. For a fleeting moment, panic tightens in my chest, my heart pounding as I struggle to remember where I am and how I got here.

My mind races, grasping at the fading edges of sleep until it hits me all at once—the fight, the frantic rush to heal, Liam.

I bolt upright, a sharp wave of dizziness slamming into me, making the room spin. My stomach lurches, and I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to collapse back onto the bed. A dull ache pulses through my body, every muscle fatigued as if I'd run for miles without stopping.

"Liam?" I croak, my voice raw and scratchy, the single word catching in my throat. My heart thunders in my ears as I scan the room, my eyes searching desperately for any sign of him.

The memories crash into me, vivid and relentless. The fever burning through his body, the desperate pull of my magic, the way his pain had flooded into me, overwhelming and all-consuming. I can still feel the echo of it in my bones, lingering like a shadow.

But what if it wasn’t enough?

Fear claws at me, cold and suffocating. My breath quickens, shallow and ragged, as the thought takes root. What if I failed? What if he didn’t make it through the night? I can’t bear the idea of Liam lying somewhere, broken and…

I force myself to move, to push through the exhaustion weighing me down. My limbs feel like lead as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool, rough wooden floor. My body protests with every movement, sore and sluggish, as if it’s not quite my own.

“Liam?” I call out again, louder this time, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Easy there, Sleeping Beauty," a familiar voice drawls from nearby. I blink and turn my head, heart skipping a beat when I see Liam leaning against the door frame, arms casually crossed over his chest. He looks… good. Healthier than I could have imagined. The angry wounds from yesterday, once deep and inflamed, are now faint pink lines, the kind that will soon fade into scars. Scars, but nothing more.

Relief floods through me, warm and overwhelming, and for a moment I can barely breathe. Pride follows quickly, swelling in my chest. I did that. I actually healed him.

"How long was I out?" I manage to ask, running a shaky hand through my tangled hair, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he's standing there, whole.

"About twelve hours," Liam replies, pushing off the door frame with easy grace. There's something softer in his posture like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "You had us worried for a while there."

"Twelve hours?" I repeat, blinking in disbelief. I had expected to feel more drained, more… empty, but apart from the lingering ache in my bones, I’m mostly just tired. "I can't believe it worked. You look…"

"Devastatingly handsome?" he interrupts with a smirk, though his eyes hold a warmth that softens the teasing edge. His usual bravado is there, but beneath it, I catch a flicker of something deeper, a quiet gratitude he’s trying to hide.

I can't help but return his smile, relief and joy bubbling up inside me like a rising tide. "I'm glad. I wasn't sure if—"

The words catch in my throat when Liam moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, his presence pulling the air around him. My stomach flutters, the proximity suddenly making me hyperaware of everything—the heat radiating from his skin, the way his shadow mingles with mine. Gently, he reaches for my hand, and the simple contact sends a spark of electricity through me, a jolt reminiscent of the connection we shared during the healing.

"Thank you," he says softly, his voice stripped of its usual bravado, leaving something raw and real behind. "What you did for me... I can never repay that."

My heart skips, my breath catching at the sincerity in his eyes. "You saved my life first," I remind him, my voice quieter now, the moment stretching out between us. "I'd say we're even."

Liam shakes his head, his thumb tracing gentle, absentminded circles on the back of my hand. The warmth of his touch seeps into my skin, grounding me, though my heart is still racing. "Not even close. You didn't just save my life… you gave me hope. For the first time in years, I feel like maybe there's a future for us. For Finn."

The intensity in his gaze holds me captive, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. I want to ask him so many things, to press deeper into that raw honesty, but the words lodge in my throat. I can't seem to find the courage to speak, not when his hand feels so warm against mine, not when the vulnerability in his eyes is making my chest tighten.

Before I can find my voice, a soft whine breaks the moment. Both Liam and I turn, finding Finn padding into the room, his large golden eyes searching us out. He looks from Liam to me, his ears perking up at the sight of his brother, and his tail wags hesitantly, as if testing the waters of this new atmosphere between us.

Liam clears his throat, letting go of my hand as he stands, the moment slipping through my fingers like sand. "Someone's been worried sick about you," he says, ruffling Finn's fur with a gentleness that contrasts with his earlier sharpness. "He barely left your side all night."

I smile at Finn, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. The wolf leans into my touch, his tail wagging more eagerly now, clearly relieved. "Thanks for looking after me, Finn. I think we both needed it."

The wolf presses his head into my hand, his golden eyes reflecting a warmth that tugs at my heart. There's a bond forming here, something deeper than just shared survival, and I feel it in the way Finn stays close, almost protective.

"He likes you," Liam observes softly, his voice barely above a whisper. There's a strange note in his tone—something wistful, almost as if he's envious of the bond between Finn and me. I glance up at him, catching a fleeting expression on his face, one of longing and something else I can’t quite name. But before I can dwell on it, it vanishes, replaced by his usual guarded look.

The need to change the subject, to escape the heaviness of the moment, presses on me. "I'm fine," I say, more to reassure myself than anyone else, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "Just a little tired, that’s all."

But as I stand, the room spins and a wave of dizziness washes over me, stealing my breath. Before I can fall, Liam is there, his arms wrapping around me with a speed and strength that feels as solid as the earth itself.

"Whoa, easy there," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "You need to take it slow."

I lean into him, my body betraying me as exhaustion drags me down, yet part of me is reluctant to pull away. The warmth of his arms around me is too comforting, too steady in the midst of everything that's unravelling.

"Maybe you're right," I sigh, conceding to the fatigue. "I guess I'm still a bit drained from... whatever that was."

Liam helps guide me back to the bed, his hand lingering on my lower back, and even through the fog of my exhaustion, I can't ignore the way his touch makes my heart race.

"You need to rest, get your strength back," he says, his tone firm but kind, a protective edge creeping into his voice. "I'll make us some breakfast. Think you can eat?"

My stomach growls loudly, answering for me. Heat rises to my cheeks, but Liam chuckles softly, the sound unexpectedly warm.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Stay put, I'll be right back."

As he heads toward the kitchen, Finn hops up onto the bed beside me, resting his head on my lap, his golden eyes watching me with quiet concern. I absentmindedly scratch behind his ears, the simple act grounding me as the smell of something cooking wafts through the small cabin.

"Your brother’s something else, isn’t he?" I murmur, glancing down at the wolf. Finn’s tail wags gently, and he presses his head further into my hand. There's a sadness in his eyes, though, one that tugs at me the more I look at him.

'There’s more to their story than Liam's letting on,' Aska whispers in the back of my mind.

‘I know,’ I reply silently. ‘But they’ve been through enough. We can’t push.’

A few minutes later, Liam returns, a tray in hand, laden with scrambled eggs, toast, and tea. The warm, comforting aroma makes my mouth water.

"It's not much," he says, setting the tray on the bedside table, "but it should help."

take a bite, and the warmth of the food fills me with much-needed strength. "This is amazing," I say between bites, surprised at how good it tastes. "I didn’t know you could cook."

Liam shrugs, the faintest hint of colour rising to his cheeks. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

His words linger, heavy with unspoken meaning. I take a sip of the herbal tea, the warmth spreading through my body as I gather the courage to respond.

"I’d like to," I say softly, meeting his gaze. "Know more about you, I mean."

Liam hesitates, his fingers running through his hair, a telltale sign of his uncertainty. His guard is up again, but I see a flicker of something else, something he’s afraid to show.

"It’s... complicated," he admits finally, his voice quieter now. "Our past, why we’re here… it’s not a pretty story."

I reach out, my hand resting on his once more. "I’m not looking for pretty. I just want to understand."

Liam’s eyes linger on our joined hands, the silence between us deepening. Finally, he nods, his expression softening. "Alright," he whispers. "But not here. Finn doesn’t need the reminder." His gaze flicks to his brother, who has dozed off at the foot of the bed, finally finding some peace. "Think you’re up for a short walk?"

I nod, setting the now-empty plate aside. "Fresh air sounds perfect."

As Liam helps me to my feet, the dizziness has mostly faded, and I feel steady in his hold. His hand stays on my lower back, guiding me, and I can’t ignore the warmth that spreads through me, the connection that pulses between us.