The Weaver's Source

Chapter 53

I woke in the early morning at dawn, shivering from the frosty cold and the damp mist clung to the earth stubbornly. Nothing moved and the whole world was silent.

I pushed myself up slowly and wiped the frosted dew from my face. I glanced about warily, wondering if the dog was still there, before I shuffled over to Grigore's hunched body. I tapped him lightly, softly calling his name, but he didn't respond. I shuffled closer and found his eyes closed and his skin pale. I would've thought him dead if it wasn't for the movement of his chest.

I shook him gently and quite suddenly Grigore woke up. His eyes snapped onto my face, alert yet tired and still holding the anger I felt from him last night, black and heavy. He didn't say a word and he grabbed my hand with his own gloved one and began to observe my arms.

"I'm fine. It never got to me."

He looked up at me sharply. "You broke your promise." He snarled and dropped my hand.

"I had no choice." I said as he got to his feet with some effort. I didn't want to argue with him, not when he clearly was so exhausted.

"No choice? You had a choice." He snapped as he stormed off, whirling his cloak over his wide shoulders. I followed him as quickly as I could. My ankle still hurt and pain flared every time I put weight on it. "What on earth possessed you to leave the inn anyway? Did you want to get killed or something? Did you want to feed yourself to the monsters again?"

I winced at that comment. "No. I knew getting myself eaten wasn't going to help anyone."

"Then why?"

"I had a dream. A premonition. People were going to get killed by the dog last night and I couldn't sit in bed and let that happen."

"You can and you should've. You are more important to keep out of the way of monsters, not people. Let them die."

I stared at his back. He couldn't mean that. "I can't do that, Grigore. Not after Gabi! It still eats at me that I knew she was going to die and failed her!" I said with my own fire. "If I can help people from these premonitions of mine, then I will! I'm not heartless enough that I can just abandon people and save only myself!"

Grigore whirled on me, his expression furiously dark, his eyes burning with rage and his body towering over me dangerously. "You're no warrior, Lyra. You'll only get yourself killed when trying to help people in hunts! You keep yourself safe, not fling yourself into danger!"

Hurt and rage was filling me now, forcing frustrated tears to my eyes as I glared back. It had been a long time since we argued like this. I hated it. I hated that he was so angry at me. I hated that he had every reason to be. I hated he couldn't rely on me to take care of myself.

"I managed it last night!" I pressed, defending myself as the frustrations with my limitations thickened. "I managed to protect a mother and her child. I may not be a warrior but I use my head. I listen to you. I learn about what I'm facing. I knew that the dog couldn't hurt me while I held light so I made sure I did."

"If I hadn't reached you when I did, you would be eaten and this whole town would be annihilated. I would be slain. Lillith would be eaten. That dog would be unstoppable." Grigore snarled. "That is what you did wrong. You endangered this town!" He clenched fingers into fists, his muscles tightening dangerously as if to root himself to the spot. "Worse, you endangered yourself. If I hadn't..." He stopped himself sharply, his gaze flickering over me hotly, drinking me in; the way I favoured one foot and was covered in mud and grass knotted my hair. His jaw tightened and his magic thickened, rumbling about him savagely. Then I felt it. Fear. I hadn't noticed it because it was mixed so tightly with the rage in him but he was terrified. I had scared him terribly.