Dream King by Elise Knight
25
Itook it slowly, trying to remember every tree, memorizing the small details for the journey I would have to make back.
By some miracle, I hit the lake less than half an hour later. My senses had been right on the ball. I guess there was a first time for everything.
Just seeing the water was like a balm to my soul. If I could find my way here on my own, maybe, just maybe, I could get us both out of this mess. I pulled my dress over my head and flung it on the black sand, following it up with the long bloomers Aethelu had given me. I wasn’t going to be winning any prizes for sexy underwear anytime soon, that was for sure. Cursing myself for even thinking it, I jumped in the warm water, letting it wash over me. I ducked under, taking a few gulps for good measure. There was magic in this water. Warmth flooded me, soothing my aching muscles. If I could bottle this stuff and take it through the red door, I’d be a millionaire in no time. No, a billionaire. The Kardashians would be kissing my rich-as-fuck ass. It was a nice thought, but I had bigger fish to fry; namely, he who hated my guts, bleeding out or dying of some weird infection.
I picked up the dry dress and, using Dream’s knife, ripped another part of it off. If I wasn't careful, there’d be none left for me to wear. As it was, I looked like a Mary Quant model from the sixties with the ragged hem of the fabric now skirting my upper thigh. Reluctantly I pulled the bloomers on and, not for the first time, was glad that no one could see me.
I dipped the part of the dress I’d ripped off in the water, saturating it. This time I ran through the forest. I'd kept to a straight line as much as possible so that following it back wouldn't be so difficult.
Eventually, I slowed down until I was close, and it didn't take me long to find Dream from there. The balled-up fabric was only slightly damp by the time I got to him, but it would have to do. I wrung out what little water was still in it over his lips, wetting them and hoping it would have the same regenerative qualities that it had on me. I placed the wet rag upon Dream’s burning brow. I could almost hear a sizzle as the cool lake water reacted with the heat he was giving off. It was unnatural and terrifying all in one. Had I had one, I could have cooked an egg on his forehead. I didn’t know why I was surprised. He never did anything by halves. Why not have an infection that could boil water?
He murmured, and my heart jumped. How the hell was he conscious with the heat he was giving off?
“It's me,” I whispered, finding my best soothing voice I usually only reserved for puppies and my local taco stallholder when I was angling for a free taco. “It's fine, I assured him. “I went to the lake. I got you some water.”
“Go away,” he mumbled back without even opening his eyes.
Mother fucking fucker.Can’t a girl tend to a supernatural dude without him being a bastard for once? It hadn’t occurred to me that he wouldn’t want my help, although I should have known, going by our past interactions. It was a bitter pill to swallow, that even half-dead, barely on the brink of consciousness, he still didn’t want me around. Way to go, Ana. You sure know how to push the boys away.
“Go where?” I replied, my soothing tone slipping slightly. “I've just come back. I told you I went to the lake.”
He shook his head, knocking the wet rag to the ground. I picked it back up and clamped it back on his forehead.
“Stay still,” I demanded, just like an old matron.
“Go away,” he mumbled again. “Not safe.”
He was delirious and apparently wanted me to leave for my safety. I ignored the small leap of my heart when I realized he wasn’t just pushing me away for the sake of it. I couldn't leave him. He must know that if I left him, he would die. Without someone taking care of him, he wasn't strong enough to go anywhere.
“You looked after me when the wolveries attacked me,” I reminded him in the hope this wasn’t going to turn into some kind of argument. “Now it's my turn to look after you.”
He mumbled something, but this time it was incoherent. He was losing consciousness again. My courage bottomed out, and the small shred of hope I’d been clinging to flitted away like a dandelion clock on the breeze. It hit me then, just how fucked the pair of us were. Even if the nightwalker didn’t come back, or if a wolvery didn’t happen to cross our path, there was every chance Dream was going to die. My ministrations were making him more comfortable, but I doubted they were doing much more than that. The thought of Dream dying ran through my brain and my heart like a soul-obliterating steam train, annihilating any semblance of hope in its path.
I lay next to him, wishing I’d have thought to let my dress soak in the water before coming back. At least then, me lying next to him would cool him off rather than heat him up. The irrational fear that if I moved too far away from him, he’d die took over me again, like I was somehow tethering him to this mortal coil. Utter bullshit. I knew that, and yet the fear of letting him go, even for a second, filled my every pore. I was going to hold his mother fucking soul in his body as though my life depended on it...which it did...mine and literally everyone else’s. If death came knocking, you could be sure I was going to stab its scary-ass eyes out.
I lay with him for hours, and not once did he regain consciousness. His breathing evened out as the afternoon, or night or whatever it was, passed, and by some miracle, his temperature went from supernova to merely volcanic. At least the nightwalkers had not returned. Every second we were alone was an extra second that Dream was able to get stronger, and though our chances were slim, I was beginning to hope that maybe we would manage to get out of this after all. If I could only help Dream to the lake.
Its restorative powers had helped me; they would help him too. But we were a long way from that. Days at least. He was way too heavy for me to carry, being the great hulk of a brute he was, so I was stuck there with him.
I looked down upon his sleeping face. He had a beauty, even in sleep, that left me breathless. I wondered who it was that watched his dreams, or even if he dreamed at all.
When I slept, I slept next to him, and when I went foraging for berries, I never went too far. For all his strength, without me, he would die. What a fucking god-awful position to be in. I was pretty much the only thing that stood between the world surviving or the entire human race dying out if what Aethelu said was true. And McGee wouldn’t even let me be in charge of the sleep clinic for one night. Well, screw you, McGee! The enormity of my situation didn’t escape me, but for all the weight on my shoulders, it was only Dream that took up space in my head. I couldn’t think beyond him dying. If that happened... Fuck. I needed to get a grip on myself. If he died, everyone in my world and this world would cease to exist. His personal part in his death shouldn’t even play a part in my feelings. It wasn’t about him...So why did my heart leap every time his eyes flickered slightly? Why did the thought of him dying create a deathly black hole in my heart bigger than this damn never-ending forest? Why the fuck did I kiss him at all? Because however much I hated to admit it, I was beginning to feel something for him. Something dangerous. He was a demon under the skin of an angel. I couldn’t forget that. I couldn’t let myself forget it.
The next day was exactly the same. I took another trip to the lake, but this time I soaked my whole dress so that when I lay next to him, the whole thing would cool him down. Laying beside him, my small body curved around his huge frame felt as natural as breathing, but I had to remind myself I was doing it for him, not for me. I did it on the first night to keep him warm, then on subsequent nights to cool his flaming skin. Throughout the days, he never woke, though he continued breathing. His chest still rose and fell, and with each rise, my hopes rose along with it that he would survive this thing, whatever it was.
On the third day, he finally began to stir. By now, my eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness that I could see his face perfectly. He was so beautiful, even in sickness. Seeing him so frail squeezed my heart. This wasn’t how things were meant to be. He was the strongest man I’d ever met. He literally kept the world going. If anyone should be lying injured in the forest, it should be me. Then I remembered it had been me. Dream had taken care of me. Begrudgingly so, maybe, but I’d survived.
He called my name, and this time, his eyes opened.
I gave him a smile. “You're back in the land of the living.”
“I should be dead,” he responded, his voice empty of any emotion. For some reason, his words stung more than the thought of him dying.
“I saved you. You have an infection somewhere. You had a fever. I thought you were going to die.”
He tried moving, but the pain in his face was obvious.
“Stay still,” I demanded, holding my hand against his chest. He was too weak to even push against me.
“The savagara,” he said, looking around him, his eyes assessing the forest.
“You mean the nightwalker? It isn’t here,” I replied. “We've been here three days, and I haven’t seen it.”
“Three days?” he croaked. We've been here three days?” Confusion painted his features. “Why did it not finish the job and kill me?”
I shrugged. I didn't know what to tell him. “I don't know. I just found you here unconscious. We are near the lake. It's about half an hour in that direction, so if you need water, I can get some for you. I've been going every day for the last three days.”
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the floor, letting out a little breath.
“That was insanely stupid. You should have stayed back at the camp.”
You’re welcome, Asshat
“And let you die? Besides, being at the camp isn't any safer than it is here. Twice, nightwalkers have attacked, and twice, they've got us at the camp. If anything, the camp is the least safe place I've seen here in this world.”
“Then you should have gone through the red door. You should have gone home.”
I didn't want to tell him that it wasn't home anymore. This was my home now, but I couldn't because it sounded ridiculous even to my own ears. This couldn't be home. There was no color, no light. I couldn't even believe I was thinking it. But then a small voice in my head said no, not the world. Him
I brushed it off. Now was not the time for “I'm picking apart my insane, irrational feelings for Dream.” We were both still in danger. And though I didn't understand why, I didn't need to.
“I can’t leave you now. Not like this. The nightwalker—the savagara or whatever you called it might come back to finish what it started.”
“That’s exactly what worries me, Ana. You are in this world because of my own arrogance and stupidity. I cannot have your death on my hands. I don’t think I would be able to bear it.”
He wouldn’t be able to bear me dying?Well, that was new. New and weird and vaguely exciting.
“You want me to go?” I bluffed. “I can go right now and leave you in this bloody mess. It’s not like you can actually stand up or walk or anything. Leaving would be so easy right now.”
It was an outrageous lie. Leaving him alone in the state he was in would destroy me.
He sighed. “That’s not going to happen. I can’t defend you against what’s out there if you leave. From now on, you are not leaving my sight.”
Nothing new there, buddy.
“You said the lake was half an hour away? Take me there.”
I gritted my teeth. “You are a cocky bastard for someone who’s been unconscious for the last three days. You're not fit to walk. You've lost a lot of blood. You need rest.”
“Get me to the lake then,” he insisted. "I will recuperate better there than here.”
Every part of me screamed how dangerous it was and how unlikely it was that he would be able to make it to the lake, even with my help. But there was no stopping him. Even in the state he was in, he was stronger than I was, and pushing him down to the ground was having no effect. He merely pushed back harder.
“Goddammit. Will you stay where you are. Half your chest is missing. This is madness!” I huffed, using every bit of strength I had to fight him.
“Madness would be to stay here,” he huffed. Each word ground on his breath, causing a sickening rattling sound from his lungs. “I didn’t want to admit it, but now that my brother knows you are here, he will not stop.”
His brother? What did his brother have to do with all this?
He grimaced in pain, and I let go of him after realizing I was making him worse. He groaned as he pulled himself upright, using a tree trunk to steady himself.
I hooked his arm over my shoulder, feeling his weight pushing me down, and the two of us began a sluggish pace toward the lake.
Neither of us spoke as we walked, but with every footstep, he grunted in pain.
The pain he was in must have been indescribable. What worried me the most was that the movement would start the bleeding again, and I didn't have anything to stem it. The bloodied makeshift bandage had been saturated with so much blood that I’d taken it off on the second night to get air to the wound. Not that the word wound came close to describing the pulverized mess of his chest. Part of me was glad for the eternal night because I couldn’t see the full extent of his injury. It looked bad enough in the dark.
By the time we got to the lake, I was practically carrying him, a feat in itself. We both collapsed on the black sand beach, and once again, Dream fell into unconsciousness.