Ren left Viper to bound the unconscious pig with some sturdy vines and forced her way through the thick and itchy bushes into the hollow of the massive tree.
The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of earth and dried herbs. Lying on a makeshift bed of furs were the two most important men in her life.
Ren stooped by Syris' side first.
The Snake King, usually the epitome of pristine, untouchable elegance, looked like he had gone twelve rounds with a blender. His snakeskin robe was tattered and stained. His pale, pearly skin was marred by dark bruises and dried blood.
"Oh, Syris," Ren whispered, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest.
It was the first time she had ever seen him look... imperfect. He was always so composed, so terrifyingly beautiful. Seeing him vulnerable, with his defenses down and his body broken, made guilt crash over her like a tidal wave.
