“Rhen,” whispers Harper. Her fingers dig into my arm, and she tries to take a step, then stumbles. “Wait. I don’t—I don’t think I can walk. Just—just give me a minute—” We do not have a minute. I sheathe my sword. “Hold on to me,” I say, and I draw her arm across my shoulder, then scoop her up into my arms. She’s so fiercely determined that I expect her to protest, but maybe she’s as shaken as I am, because her fractured breath trembles against my neck.
they're so much stronger and better together :')
