Never Said

13. Soulbound

★ WARNING: arrow wound, blood

.oOo.

"Bite this."

The leather strapping that was shoved into his mouth had an acrid taste, pulling his lips back, stinging his cheeks and tongue. A strong hand pushed his chin upward, ensuring his teeth were pressed firmly into the tough thong. He flared his nostrils in pain with each forced breath and turned his face away from the figure above him. The rough rock dug into his cheek, drawing rivulets of red against pale flesh.

Sweat trailed through the dirt on his face, mixing with tears.

He knew what was coming.

He was still unprepared.

The arrow had been lodged so thoroughly into the meat of his shoulder he wished he had died hours ago. The excruciating pain dragged him in and out of consciousness, and owing to the stranger who came to his aid, each time he regained awareness his surroundings had changed.

Closing his eyes tightly, attempting to stop the tears from flowing, a howl of pain escaped through gritted teeth, his throat muscles straining to release the anguish building within him. Should he survive, he vowed never again would he fire an arrow on a living creature.

"I am very sorry. This won't be quick."

Gripping the short shaft of the arrow with both hands, the towering stranger took a deep breath before pressing all of his weight against the projectile, pushing the barbed arrowhead downward, through the back of the smaller man. The compact body beneath him shrieked through clenched teeth as the blunted iron tore flesh and moved past bone on its messy trajectory.

The larger figure's firm hold on the arrow worked to guide the metal and wood through the devastated shoulder, causing the soldier to spasm violently when the weapon finally tumbled from him, passing through meat and tendon, to land with a dull, wicked thnk upon the bloodied ground.

Retrieving the gory object, he pitched it to the far end of the cavern. "Vile thing!" The arrow was swallowed by the depths of their temporary shelter, lost to the shadows.

Crouching low, he gently pulled the moist leather strap away and moved his ear to the lips of his fallen protector. When he could feel the faint flow of breath against his skin, he slumped to the floor and released a held breath, relieved. The process had been drawn out and painful, and that pain forced the wounded man back into unconsciousness.

The man had survived. He had lived. Now the hard work would begin.

.oOo.

He groaned to slow wakefulness, lying on his back. He was greeted by a dull pain that soon became a sharp soreness across every part of his body. And then he felt a heat in his shoulder.

Stiff, uncoordinated, and dizzy, he tried to sit–until he was coaxed to stop by large hands. "Do not move so much. You need to be still." His head was cradled and gently guided back until he found himself in a half-sitting position, his back propped against something uncomfortable and confusing–both hard and yet soft. He tried to open his eyes but they were covered.

"Who?" His voice was hoarse, foreign to his ears. "Where are-"

The calm voice shushed him. "You are safe. We are one and a half days journey from the fighting." His arm was numb now. He wasn't sure if he felt cold or heat now. His neck ached and was difficult to move. There was pressure building in his head.

He heard the sound of water being wrung from cloth. "You saved me," the voice continued as cool, wet fabric wiped at his forehead and neck, "and I am saving you."