Stalk the Moon: a Greek Gods Romance (Mirrorside Book 1) by Jessica Lynch

Author:Jessica Lynch [Lynch, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-06T21:00:00+00:00

12

Have you ever seen a one-armed man pack up a campsite by himself?

It sounds like the set-up to a bad joke but, as I perch on my stump again, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Within minutes of wiping down and wrapping himself up in his torn cloak—and pulling on his stupid hood—Hunter is gathering supplies while I sit, my chin in my hand, feeling like I’ve been put in time-out.

The sighing doesn’t help. Or the pout.

I huff. Hunter pretends not to hear.

After a while, I start to wonder if I should get up and go off on my own. His mood dark, that dumb hood hiding the scowl I know is there, Hunter insists that we move out. I try to help and he won’t let me do anything around the camp. Then I start to ask him why we have to hurry. After he bites out one word—“Archer”—he ignores the rest of my questions. Guilt still has a stranglehold on me and I let it go.

Archer, he says. I bet he knows exactly who shot that arrow. Hunter won’t tell me, though. My guilt gets a couple of buddies. Now I’m feeling frustrated and a little angry, too.

He moves awkwardly, obviously favoring his right side. Even though he’s wrapped in gauze and wearing a fresh shirt, I can’t stop seeing the big hole in his arm. I breathe and the stink of his blood is still in my nose. And the blood… I shiver, pulling my cloak closer. There was so much blood.

My head is heavy. I brace it with my other hand, pressing my palm against my cheek. I’m a little feverish and the cool touch is nice. I need it. My stomach is still queasy, my head spinning as my thoughts race.

The shock from the surprise attack is gone, and so is the adrenaline that followed as I tended to Hunter. All that’s left are two certainties that I really don’t want to believe. It’s impossible to deny them—because someone had shot an arrow at me. And, even more incredibly, Hunter took the arrow in his back so that I didn’t take it in my head.

In my head.

As Hunter disappears into this tent to pack up something else, I drop my hands, lean over, and vomit into the grass. I could’ve been killed. Killed. If it wasn’t for Hunter, I’d be dead and no one would ever know what happened to me. That thought staggers me. And I throw up again.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I realize that Hunter’s right. This place is way too dangerous. I have to go home.

Now.

After ducking under the flap again, I watch him pause. His nostrils flare. The acrid stench of puke surrounds me. I refuse to ask forgiveness for that, either.

He doesn’t say anything. He simply reaches under his cloak and offers me his canteen.

I hesitate. That nectar did something funny to me before.

“Just water, Noelle,” he murmurs.

I have to believe him. I nod my thanks as I take the canteen.

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