Wanted (book 2 of Wielder series)

Chapter 11 - Reunited

Michael had no idea how much time passed as he sat on the shore. Every moment felt like an eternity. Every rustling bush made him fear an attack. He couldn't control his twitching at even the slightest noise. He couldn't control the chill that swept across his back when a wolf decided to howl at the moon. He couldn't even control his own mind as it imagined all the horrible ways Alie could have died.

   A figure stepped out of the tree line, about fifty feet away. Michael sucked in a breath, fearing the worst. But then the figure's shoulders sagged in relief, and her arm lifted in a tired wave.

   Alie was alive.

   He could weep. He nearly did, as he scrambled up and rushed to her. Until the moment he gathered her in his arms, he feared she might be some sort of hallucination. He enveloped her tightly and refused to let go, cradling her head against his shoulder.

   His hands trembled. His shoulders shook with barely restrained sobs. He breathed in the smell of the dirt in her hair and relished the tingling of magic that coated her skin. She was alive. She was here. This was real.

   His fears had been so vivid. The possibility of her death had been so great. It was a miracle that she stood with him now. He clung to her even tighter, trying to shake the horror of the nightmares from his thoughts.

   As the fear finally ebbed away, a new emotion plagued him: rage. He pushed her out to arm's length and squeezed her shoulders tight in his fists. "Don't you ever do that to me again," he nearly shouted. He shook her once, just enough to unsettle her, but not enough to hurt. "I was so scared. I was... I was so scared."

   She watched him with patient understanding, saying nothing until his grip loosened. "I know," she whispered kindly. "I know."

   No. She had no idea. And she never would, because she was always the one running off to save the day. She would never be the one left behind doing nothing. She would never be the one expected to wait for someone else to come along and save her. She would never be the one who had to watch the people she loved sacrifice themselves for the good of others.

   She would never understand how he felt. Never.

   Still trembling, Michael let her go.

   Believing all was well between them again, Alie turned her gaze toward Darrel, who still lay on the rocks nearby. "How is he?" she asked.

   Michael didn't miss the fear that lay within her question. "He'll live. He's in a lot of pain, though. I set his leg as best I could, but he passed out right after. I'm surprised he lasted that long, to be honest."

   "And..." Alie swallowed hard. For a moment, she turned as pale as a ghost. She struggled to speak, forcing out the words as if they haunted her. "And the... lashes?"

   "Not deep, and they already stopped bleeding by the time we made it here. I would have cleaned them if I had proper lighting and clean water." He waved a hand to the lake. "I didn't want to take my chances with whatever was in there."

   "It should be clean enough," an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind Alie.

   In his relief and fear and anger, Michael had not even noticed that Alie had been followed. He reached for the gun on his hip, fully ready to blow a hole through the woman's head if she so much as looked at Alie wrong. But the gun and holster were gone. He hadn't had them in days.

   Alie threw up her hands between them before he could pull back his fist. "It's okay," she promised, offering up a nervous smile. She nodded toward the woman, a guard, Michael now realized, dressed from head to toe in their unmistakeable black uniform. "This is... uh..."