Saved Him
Remi’s POV
“Rowan!” I whisper-shouted, my voice hoarse from exhaustion and fear.
He didn’t move.
My stomach twisted as I stumbled forward, barely feeling the pain in my own body. My hands were shaking as I reached out, pressing my fingers against his neck.
Warm. Beating. Alive.
But barely.
His breathing was ragged, uneven. His white dress shirt—already torn and stained with dirt—was soaked in blood.
Too much blood.
That’s when I saw it.
The massive gash along his side.
My breath hitched. The wound was deep, jagged, and still fresh—like something had ripped through him.
Then, just a few feet away, I saw it.
The bear.
It was dead, its massive body slumped against the trees. A knife—Rowan’s knife—was buried deep in its throat, blood pooling beneath its unmoving form.
I covered my mouth, my eyes flicking between Rowan and the bear.
He killed it.
Injured, weak, barely holding on—he still fought.
But at what cost?
I shook his shoulder gently. “Rowan, wake up.”
Nothing.
Panic clawed at my chest.
I pressed my hands against his wound, trying to slow the bleeding.
His head lolled slightly, a weak groan slipping past his lips.
Relief and fear crashed into me at once.
“Rowan, open your eyes,” I pleaded. “Come on, you stubborn—”
A sharp exhale.
Then—his eyes fluttered open.
Dark blue, glassy with pain. But awake.
“…Remi?” His voice was barely audible, rough and strained.
Tears pricked my eyes. “Yeah. It’s me.”
He blinked sluggishly, like he wasn’t sure if I was real.
Then his gaze flickered to the bear.
His lips curled into the faintest smirk. “Told you… I was good in a fight.”
I let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “Idiot.”
His smirk didn’t last. His face twisted in pain, his body tensing beneath my hands.
I pressed down harder on the wound. “We need to move.”
He exhaled through clenched teeth. “Give me… a minute.”
“You don’t have a minute, Rowan!” My voice cracked. “You’re bleeding out.”
His eyes locked onto mine, a silent challenge in them.
Even now, half-conscious, he was stubborn as hell.
I swallowed, trying to steady myself. “We need to find shelter.”
He gave a weak nod, but his body didn’t move.
I glanced around. We couldn’t stay here. If another predator smelled the blood—his blood—we were screwed.
I hooked an arm under his shoulders. “Come on.”
He groaned, his body sluggish against mine.
But he moved. Barely.
We stumbled through the forest, each step agony. He leaned heavily against me, his weight almost too much.
I could feel his warmth fading.
His breathing was getting slower.
I tightened my grip. “Stay awake, Vaughn.”
“Trying,” he muttered.
But I could tell he was slipping.
I didn’t care how, but I had to keep him alive.
His body was heavy against mine, and every step felt like dragging dead weight. His shirt was soaked with blood, my hands stained with it, and I knew—I knew—if I didn’t find a way to stop the bleeding soon, he wouldn’t make it.
I sucked in a deep breath, scanning the forest ahead. My legs burned, my ribs ached, but I pushed forward.
Then—I saw it.
A narrow opening between the trees, a small rocky ledge that sloped downward into what looked like a shallow cave. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter.
“Almost there,” I whispered.
Rowan made a weak sound of acknowledgment, but his body sagged further against mine.
I clenched my jaw and forced us forward, nearly collapsing as we finally reached the entrance.
The cave was small, barely enough room for the two of us, but it was dry. Safe.
I eased Rowan down onto the ground, his back against the cool stone wall. He winced, a rough sound escaping his throat, but he didn’t fight me.
His eyes fluttered, unfocused.
I crouched beside him, my breath coming out in sharp bursts. “Rowan. Look at me.”
His gaze barely lifted.
“Rowan.”
Finally, his eyes met mine. Dazed. Heavy.
I reached for his shirt, yanking it open. My stomach lurched. The wound on his side was bad. Deep, jagged, and still oozing blood.
Think, Remi.
I had nothing. No medical kit. No proper tools. Just me.
I ripped a strip from my own shirt, pressing it hard against the wound. Rowan groaned, his body tensing.
“I know,” I said quickly. “But this is the only way.”
He didn’t respond. His head tipped back against the wall, jaw clenched.
I kept pressure on the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. But I needed something more.
Then it hit me.
Fire.
I looked around frantically. There were dry leaves, twigs—enough to make a small fire. If I could heat a blade… I could cauterize the wound.
It was crude. Painful. But it could save his life.
I grabbed Rowan’s knife from the bears chest. “This is going to hurt.”
He huffed a weak laugh. “Already… hurts.”
I ignored the way his voice was fading.
Moving quickly, I built a small fire, using my shaking hands to spark the flame. The second the fire caught, I held the knife over it, watching the metal turn red-hot.
Rowan’s eyes flickered open. “Remi…”
I met his gaze. “You have to stay awake for this.”
He exhaled sharply, then nodded.
I pressed the hot blade against his wound.
His body jerked violently, a strangled sound ripping from his throat. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist in an iron-clad hold, his nails digging into my skin.
But I didn’t stop.
The smell of burning flesh filled the cave.
Rowan’s breath came in short, pained bursts. His head slammed back against the wall, his face contorted in agony.
Then—
His grip loosened.
His eyes rolled shut.
And he went completely still.
“Rowan?” My voice cracked.
Nothing.
I pressed my fingers to his nec
k.
The pulse was there. Weak, but there.
Tears burned my eyes as I sagged back, my hands shaking.
I did it.
I saved him.
Now, I just had to keep him alive long enough to find a way home.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
