ENDURING {Sequel to Everlasting} ❗️EDITING ❗️

Chapter 72 - Part C

I wasn't sure what exactly keeps me going, but I do, with legs so numb that it burns painfully, the cold had set into my bones long ago. Yet I don't turn back, even as the white sky begins to grow darker, the thick snow clouds never breaking to allow me a moments glimpse of the midnight blue sky I know to be hidden behind.

I'd slowed considerably, yet the blood trail remains the same. I suppose it's almost a relief, even if I should have turned back a while ago.

I'd followed it across an entire mountain, down into a valley of snow and emptiness. The dark makes it hard to see, even if it's not pitch black, it soon will be.

Turn back Kalli, before it gets any darker. I tell myself, my gut in agreement despite the hunger. Truth be told the trail of blood is barely visible without my flashlight.

Exhaling a heavy breath of warm arm, I pull my hood tighter against my face, covering my mouth and nose as much as possible. The wind has been behind me for the most part, lashing against the backs of my legs like a hurricane. Now that I'm going against it, it's much harsher, slowing me instantly as I almost gasp for breath.

Fuck! It's goddamn boltic. For the thousandth time this week, I find myself questioning how anything survives out here.

My foot catches on something buried beneath the snow, instantly sending me toppling over. A groan echoes, and I pull myself up from the thick snow, the weight of my clothes making it difficult.

Wait.

I freeze.

I didn't groan.

My eyes snap down to the spot I'd fallen, the breath in my lungs vanishing. What I'd assumed to be a rock, or part of a tree stump, is in fact neither.

Even in the darkness, the silhouette of a face is prominent within the snow. Lycan. The thought makes my stomach turn, yet I feel some victory in knowing I'd taken one down.

With daylight vanishing, I crouch next to the unmoving body. My hands feeling over the Lycan, until I grasp the familiar handle of the wood knife, pulling it free of the Lycans flesh.

The cry that echoes just faintly, a distant whine that seems so far away.

It's not a creature.

It's not even an adult.

What the fuck is a child doing alone out here? The horror that washes over me is gut-wrenching. Isn't it obvious, Kalli? It's a Lycan child.

The very thing I am here to kill. That thought has me dipping my blade to the skin of its throat, pressing the sharp edge in. Yet it's breathing is near non-existent, all fight lost.

My pulse quickens, my grip on the knife slipping as my palms sweat coldly. Kill it, Kalli. Something will come looking, you'll be able to track it back to their hide outs.

Every fibre of my being tells me to obey Elder orders, tells me to save my family, to save myself, above this one child.

It's just one child.

"I'm sorry." I breathe heavily, my voice faint as I slide my knife into my boot.

The child doesn't respond, which worries me. All of my knifes are designed to kill wolves, to poison them. What if Lycans are susceptible to the same poisons?

Swallowing down the painful lump in my throat, I quickly lift the child into my arms. The instant weight is definitely not that of an ordinary child, I feel like I'm carrying a full grown wolf.

God damn!

The idea of dropping the child and saving the little amount of energy I have left is almost overwhelming. Perhaps if I was another person, I would see it to wounded and leave it to die so that I might have a chance. But I cannot. Even if it means freezing to death on a mountain while there's a snow storm.

'You're deranged.' Hardin's words echo through my skull.

"I really am." I breathe heavily, realising that even though I'm still cold, I'm sweating.

*

By the time I get back to the cover of the trees, I can't see shit. There's nothing but darkness, in fact it's so dark that I can't see my own hand in front of my face.

If not for the fire I'd lit earlier, there'd be no chance of me finding the tent tonight.

Settling the child beside the fire, I quickly remove my heavy jacket and reach into my bag. Pulling out the flask of water, abs of course the first-aid kit.

The child is sweating profusely, and right now that worries me. I check over it's body for visible signs of poison, luckily there are none. But I do realise that this Lycan is a girl, although I can't tell how old she is, her face is far too dirty, hair beyond matted. Her clothes consist of animal fur, a single layer that drapes over her front and back, with a single hole for her head.

Perhaps they don't use the fur for warmth, but for some form of covering?

Shaking my head, I get to cleaning the wound on the child's stomach. It's almost two inches in length, and probably multiple inches deep, which is why I clean it out before stitching it up. Applying a breathable hospital gauze over the top to keep it clean.

She's survived multiple hours, surely she'll survive the night? The worry of her death lingers over me like a fucking plague, forcing me to remain right next to her sleeping form through the night. Waiting, watching, dreading.

"Please survive." I whisper softly, resting my jacket over the child. For now she's inside the tent, out of the cold.

I stay by the fire, ensuring it doesn't go out at any point.