Moira couldn't make herself move, even as the guards released her. She was frozen to the ground, staring at Kalian's unconscious form. Blood continued to gush from his wing stumps. His back was completely drenched and blood had formed a muddy puddle beneath his face. His soul shattering screams echoed through her ears.

    Dagen paused beside Moira. She couldn't make herself look at him. "He's your problem now," the General whispered. "But know that if he does not die, I'll return to finish the job. I made him a promise, after all." He wiped Kalian's sword clean and sheathed it. "Mount the Faerie's wings on spears. I want his King and Queen to know he failed them!"

    Malachi was the first to heed his order. Moira was rooted to her spot as Malachi dragged one of Kalian's wings over to a spear he'd set on the ground. Moira's chest tightened with rage and pain. He was a Faerie. He'd lied to her. He was a Faerie. He'd sacrificed his wings for her.

    Someone dumped his other wing in front of her. Moira's stomach churned, but she willed herself not to throw up. She leaned forward, touching the scarred limb gingerly. It was softer than she had expected. Soft, but strong. She could feel the well formed muscles that had carried him through the air.

    He had almost lost his wings before, she realized, recognizing the scars that matched the burns on his back. He'd used his wings to shield himself and his daughter during the explosion. Yet another time when he would've been willing to sacrifice such an important part of himself to protect another. He had protected her, and this time, there would be no healing his wings.

    He would never fly again. How could he bear it? A Faerie without wings was... It wasn't possible. He lied. He lied. He lied. The words hammered between her temples. Yes, he lied, and he'd paid the price so that she wouldn't have to.

    Moira squeezed her eyes shut as someone skewered his wing and hoisted it into the air. Drops of blood pattered into the dirt. She still didn't move, even when wagon wheels began to creak and horses clopped by.

    "Holy..." Samson gasped behind her. "Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit." She opened her eyes as he stumbled around her and dropped down beside Kalian. "Kalian? Hey, can you hear me?" Samson smacked Kalian's cheek repeatedly, but he gave no response. Moira couldn't even tell if he was still breathing.

    "Is he dead?" Bellamy stood behind her, fear lacing his every word.

    "Not yet." Samson gripped Kalian beneath the arms and dragged him away from the puddle of blood.

    Bellamy's face took on a green pallor and Moira was certain her's had as well. Blood dripped down Kalian's face, arms, and back. What remained of his wings were raw gory stumps. She could see hints of the strange oil Dagen had used mixed in with his blood. Kalian groaned as Samson laid him on his stomach.

    Moira looked away, somehow hobbling to her feet. Her legs shook beneath her. She turned in a slow circle, realizing for the first time that they were completely alone. The rest of the Ironblades had left, even Lir. She looked back at the two men who remained. Samson peeled off Kalian's shirt, which Bellamy took wordlessly.

    "Fuck," Samson breathed, leveling his hands over Kalian's back. "That oil had iron in it. If those shavings don't come out, he'll die."

    "Can you remove them?" Bellamy asked.

    Samson shook his head. "Only a Witch can. They aren't as easily affected by iron as Faeries and Scindoes."

    "Where can I find a Witch?" Bellamy was already walking towards Jasmine, the only horse who had been left behind.

    Relief and love flooded Samson's features as he answered. "Levrune, but he doesn't have three days, Bel. We'll be lucky if he isn't dead by tomorrow morning."

    Bellamy swung onto Jasmine's back, not even bothering with a saddle. "Then I'll have to ride like hell." His gaze fell to Kalian.

    "He lied to us," Moira found herself saying. Both men turned to look at her. "He hid who he really was for months. It's not hard to guess why he came either. He used us. All of us. He's a Faerie, and you're still going to help him?"

    Bellamy clenched his jaw. "He was my friend before I knew he was a Faerie. I don't see why that has to change now."

    "But what about..."

    "I didn't join the Ironblades to eradicate Faeries, Commander. I joined to find my sister. If we save Kalian's life, maybe he can help me do that."

    "If we save his life," Samson repeated. "And he won't thank us for doing so."

    "That's too damn bad." Bellamy dug his heels into Jasmine's sides and galloped away, leaving Moira alone with Samson and Kalian.

    "You don't seem surprised by all of this," Moira noted.

    "Are you going to help me keep him alive or are you going to stand there?"

    Anger pricked at her gut. She began to speak, then broke off as Kalian shifted. Samson bent over him, waiting to see if he woke. Shudders wracked Kalian's body and he gave a hoarse moan. "What do you need me to do?" Moira rasped.

    Her questions could wait. If Kalian died, the answers she needed would die too. And despite her confusion, despite her anger, her heart still broke at the sight of Kalian's mutilated back. The blood clotting around the stumps of his wings. The way his powerful body now shook like a leaf caught in the wind. The sweat that had broken out across his skin.

    "Try to find some decent water. We need to clean...these, or they'll become infected with more than just iron," Samson said, gesturing to Kalian's wing stumps. "I managed to save some of my medical equipment, so I'll do what I can. Other than that, we'll have to wait and see if he makes it until Bellamy gets back."

    Moira dipped her chin and set off to search the few barrels and crates that had been left behind. She looked back only once, in time to see a red glow surround Samson's palms. He knit his brows and pain flashed across his features, but he didn't lower his hands. Moira turned away, a multitude of emotions at war within her.

☽◦༻◦☽◦༺◦☽

    Daylight waned into nighttime, and still Kalian struggled on. Moira kept herself busy by making a makeshift camp while Samson watched over him. She moved crates and barrels closer and formed them in a semicircle. She dug a shallow hole in the ground and lined it with stones, before finding adequate kindling for a fire. Moira caught and prepared two small rabbits for a late meal, though she and Samson didn't eat much.

    Finally, there was nothing left for her to do but sit and wait. Moira studied Kalian's features. They were illuminated by firelight and twisted in pain. Samson sat beside him, brows knit with concern. Every now and then, he laid his palm on Kalian's arm and the unconscious male seemed to relax.

    Samson did so now, a crimson hue tinging his fingers.  "You're a Scindo," Moira said, more as an observation than an accusation. "Aren't you?"

    Samson didn't look at her. "Yes."

    "That's how you knew how to help Kalian when a Witch cast a spell on me." He nodded. "And the time Kalian was injured during a fight... It wasn't just his back that was injured, was it? It was his wings. You healed him and kept his Faerie features glamoured while he was unconscious."

    "I did," Samson sighed.

    "Have you been working together from the very beginning?"

    "No. I never knew Kalian before he arrived. Bellamy didn't either."

    "Tell me everything you can."

    Samson hesitated, then inclined his head. Moira listened intently while he explained all that had transpired since he joined the Ironblades, and after Kalian arrived. She watched Kalian periodically, trying to wrap her mind around everything. Samson's story only increased her confusion and when he finally finished speaking, she couldn't find the right words to respond with.

    "He kept this from you because he knew how you would react," Samson said presently. "You are, were, Commander Moira Lev. Only an idiot would tell you they were really a Faerie, sent to spy by their King and Queen."

    "I know," Moira murmured. "But the fact remains that he lied and used me to gather information."

    "He never lied to you. He just didn't tell you certain things."

    Moira lifted her gaze to Samson's. "What's the difference?"

    "The difference is Kalian didn't want to deceive you. If he had, he would've told lie after lie after lie. He should have. It would've made his job much easier. But he didn't. He cares too much about you to hurt you more than he has to, but he cares about his people too much to watch you destroy them."

    "I thought I could trust him. I thought he was the one person who understood everything I've been through. The one person I could truly rely on."

    "Why does his being a Faerie change all of that? Like Bellamy said, he was your friend before you knew he was a Faerie. He looked out for you. Protected you. Helped you."

    "That doesn't change the fact that he used me!" Moira spat. "He lied to me and used me. Now Dagen has replaced me with Malachi. I'm left with nothing and no one. I thought he... I thought I... It's all been a lie!"

    Samson's amber eyes darkened with anger. "Haven't you always suspected that Dagen would replace you? If Kalian hadn't come along, he would've done it anyway. He just would've had a different excuse. You are not left with nothing and no one. Bellamy and I stayed behind, didn't we?"

    "You stayed for Kalian, not me."

    "We are here for both of you. He," Samson pointed at Kalian, "is here for you. He has always been here for you. He could've left weeks ago. He could've left when he found out I was a Scindo. He could've asked me to pass information along so he no longer had to, but he didn't. Why?"

    "Because he hadn't learned what he needed to yet," Moira snarled.

    "Because he didn't want to abandon you." Samson clutched at his knees, gritting his teeth together. "He was supposed to go to Levrune and pass a warning on to a Witch yesterday. We spent hours arguing about it, trying to decide what to do. I finally convinced him to go, but do you know what he did? Do you know why he got caught, when he could've been well out of harm's reach?"

    Moira didn't answer. She was almost dreading Samson's explanation. Her eyes burned with bitter tears, but she refused to let them fall. She didn't let herself look at Kalian. She didn't let herself recall their night together. The words they'd exchanged. The kisses they'd shared. She blocked them from her mind, trying to focus solely on her anger and sense of betrayal.

    "He came back because he heard whispers that Malachi and Dagen were plotting against you. He believed they were going to stage an accident for you in the mountains. He came back to warn you, when he should've warned his people and gotten himself to safety. He came back. He came back for you!" Samson pointed an accusing finger at her. "And it has cost him everything."

    "He made his choice," Moira whispered, a single tear managing to slip past her eyelashes.

    "He did. He chose you."