Outcast 1 & 2: A Dark Fantasy Novel by J.E. Keep & M. Keep

Author:J.E. Keep & M. Keep [Keep, J.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pathforgers Publishing
Published: 2015-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

Too weary to have anything but a deep sleep, Elin awoke groggily some time later after an uninterrupted period. She was still tired and could use more rest, but when she heard Ara’bor’s groan of pain, she knew she would have to get up. She had to see to him.

He still lay upon his back, his strong, handsome face contorted into a look of pained anguish as he flinched. Was it the wound in his side? She couldn’t be sure. He licked at his lips but his tongue was dry, and she knew he needed something to drink.

The cabin was empty, the Ranger was not inside even though the winds blew harshly still. She was curious if the snow persisted, but not enough to shove her head out into it. Instead, she saw that the fire was burning low and that the firewood bin was stocked high, and so added to it, stoking the flames higher before taking the water and pouring up a cup.

The half-demon woman crouched by his bedside, cradling the back of his head, his long dark hair between her fingers as she lifted the heavy man just enough to bring the warm water to his lips. Though his eyes remained shut he drank it, greedily.

“Where are we?” came his low whisper of a voice, barely audible. She had to lean forward, putting her ear near his mouth to catch it.

“Don’t worry about that for now. Just focus on getting better,” Elin replied. She didn’t want to trouble him, to make his worries greater in his dire times, though she wondered how long she could go on like this. Relying on the kindness of humans had only led to abuse and degradation that had led her to be with the bandits in the first place.

They were the safer, kinder option, despite what they did to her.

She faced execution in some jurisdictions simply by her birthright, while in others mob justice and burnings were a genuine risk. At least among criminals and murderers like Ara’bor, she stood a shot at being recognized as useful, if not equal. And maybe even that, she reflected as she stroked his furrowed brow, creases melting away at her soothing touch.

Giving him more water, he drank his full until at last he could take no more. His weak voice a little clearer, less raspy after wetting his throat. “Don’t trust anyone,” he said, his eyes opening just a sliver to look at her. “Do what y’have to. For you and the baby,” he remarked, not much energy to say more. Though the implication was clear.

Others might have thought it silly that she didn’t do just that. Look out for her, for her unborn child, and leave Ara’bor to rot and be imprisoned for his crimes, to be held accountable.

Yet it was unthinkable to Elin. He had been the only person who had showed even an ounce of caring or concern for her wellbeing, for her future, and her thumb ran tenderly across his cheek.

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