Gilded Serpent by Danielle Jensen (top 10 novels txt) 📕

to win.” Leaning forward, she added a log to the fire. “Instead, all the civilians in the city cursed us even as they did everything in their power to protect those who were infected, unwittingly siding with the Corrupter every time they did. And Rufina, in her guise as Cyntha, did everything she could to further destroy what faith they had left in the Marked. She slaughtered the blighters she encountered herself, violently and without mercy, and always in places where everyone would see.” Her lip trembled. “I watched her behead a woman in the middle of the street. A blighter, nothing more than an animated corpse that needed to be put down. But the looks on the faces of the people as they watched one of Hegeria’s Marked swing that sword is nothing I’ll ever forget. And I vowed that no matter the circumstance, I’d never do anything that would cause them to look that way at me.”

“You aren’t Rufina.” Killian’s voice was hoarse. “She’s corrupted. You are nothing like her.”

“Why? Because my eyes don’t look like pits to the underworld?” She tossed another log on the fire, watching the sparks fly. “When Rufina wasn’t using her mark, she looked normal, too. I could be just like her if I chose that path—could use my mark to kill rather than save. I know it, because I’ve done it.” She waited for him to question her, but his silence told her that he already knew. That Malahi had told him about what had happened that night in the tunnels. “I will do whatever is necessary to keep from taking another’s life. Even if it means sacrificing my own.”

Lying down on her bedroll, she turned away from him. “Good night, Killian.”

It wasn’t until a long time later that she heard him whisper, “Good night, Lydia.”

 69MARCUS

Marcus blinked, slowly focusing on the flickering flames before him, his nose filled with the scent of sweat and smoke, his ears with the crackle pop of pine sap burning.

Everything hurt.

From his head to the tips of his obviously frostbitten toes, his body was an aching mass of pain, but worse than that was the fog in his head, his mind sluggish and disorientated. Like he’d been drugged, but somehow worse.

“Teriana?” He could barely get the word out, his tongue thick and his throat feeling as though it had been scoured by sandpaper.

“I’m here.”

Her voice came from above him, and Marcus realized his head was in her lap, her hands stroking his hair. Shifting, he looked up, her face swimming in and out of focus. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” She gave him a tight smile. “Everything is fine. Have a drink of water.”

His muscles protested as she helped him sit and put a tin cup of warm water into his hand. He drank it greedily, and she filled it again from the kettle sitting next to the flames.

There were bandages wrapped around her palms, and her fingers were marked with nicks and cuts, moving stiffly. He sipped at the water and looked around the small cave, the space entirely unfamiliar. “Where are we? How did I get here?”

“Can we talk about it later?” she asked. “I really need to sleep.”

His mind was sharpening, clear enough now to notice that her eyes were the color of stagnant pools, her skin ashen, and every move she made seemed an act of will. “What happened to you?”

“Please.” Tears flooded down her cheeks, a sob tearing from her lips as she lowered herself to the cave floor. “I have to sleep.”

Icy fear built in his gut, and Marcus pulled the blankets that had been covering him over her body, folding one to slip beneath her cheek. She whimpered softly, curling in on herself. What happened? His fear was turning to panic, and he rose on unsteady legs.

A flash of memory shot through his head, of stumbling through wind and darkness, Teriana begging him to keep walking, keep breathing, keep living. But before that, there was nothing.

“Think,” he growled at himself. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Her face. Her voice as she said, “I’m sorry for this, but I refuse to let you die.” And then the world fell away.

Of their own accord, his fingers went to his belt pouch, digging around the contents, but the vial of painkiller he always kept was gone. She’d drugged him.

But why?

Tucking the blankets tightly around her shoulders, he pulled aside the weighted tarp blocking the entrance to the cave. Outside, the sun was rising, bright oranges and pinks burning along the horizon, and he eyed the unfamiliar terrain, noting the dense forest in the distance.

Except that was impossible.

He ignored his aching body and broke into a trot, following a trail. Then he was no longer trotting, but running. Sliding to a stop only when he reached the edge of a cliff, across which was strung a single rope. On the far side, the rest of the bridge dangled, and beyond that, the razor-edged mountains of the Sibernese Teeth.

She’d carried him, unconscious, the rest of the way across the Teeth.

A tremble struck him in the knees, and he sat heavily on the ground, staring. It was impossible. Not only was she half-starved and exhausted, she was smaller than he was.

And yet the proof was undeniable. As was the toll it must have taken on her.

Scrambling back to his feet, Marcus raced back to the cave and ducked inside. Teriana still slept, and when he pressed his fingers against her pulse, it was not half so strong as he’d like. Right now, she needed sleep, but when she woke, she needed to eat.

As did he.

Hunger from days without food bit into his stomach, and Marcus surveyed the shelter for any sign of supplies, but there was nothing but a few jars containing less than a handful of oats and some crumbs from what looked like jerky.

Swearing, he pulled on his discarded hat and mittens, tossed another piece of wood on the fire, then went back out into the