Sienna Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 8 of 11

She couldn't tell how long she'd been lying there when the footsteps came. They were quick and uneven, someone running. The sound stopped near her head, and a voice she recognized said her name twice. Ember. Sienna tried to speak, but her throat wouldn't cooperate. Hands touched her shoulder, checking the wounds. Sienna shook her head weakly, tried to push them away. She'd finished what she came to do. Let her stay here beside it. But Ember wasn't listening. Arms slid under her back and knees, lifting her from the cobblestones. The world tilted. Sienna saw the beast's corpse slide out of view, then the garnet pool of her own blood spreading across the square. She wanted to tell Ember to put her down, that the fight was over and there was nothing left that mattered. The words came out as barely a whisper, and Ember kept moving. The cabin appeared through her narrowing vision — mossy roof, ivy-covered walls, amber light spilling through warped windows. Ember carried her inside and laid her on a low cot near the hearth. Silver bells on frayed rope hung above the door, chiming softly as it closed. Sienna's eyes tracked them, then slid to Ember's face. She was saying something about bandages, about stopping the bleeding. Sienna tried again to protest, but Ember pressed a cloth against the worst of the wounds and told her to be quiet. The pain sharpened as Ember worked, cleaning and binding each gash with steady hands. Sienna lay still, watching the firelight flicker across the ceiling beams. She'd killed the beast. That was supposed to be the end. But Ember had pulled her from the square, brought her here, and was now refusing to let her bleed out in peace. Sienna closed her eyes and felt something crack open inside her chest — not the hollow she'd expected, but something raw and unwanted. She was alive. The beast was dead. And someone had decided that mattered enough to drag her back.