Xiao Lin winced as the doctor pressed a salve over the gash in his side. "Can you be a little gentler?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"I could, but then again, you shouldn't be charging through fire and Zerg blades like a reckless wolf pup," the doctor muttered.
"I'm a fox, actually," Xiao Lin deadpanned.
The doctor sighed. "Yes, your fox highness, now hold still."
Sheng Long tightened his hold around Xiao Lin's waist. He was sitting behind him, cradling him like something fragile, precious—his dragon core still humming with fury and relief. His arms had not loosened once since he caught him.
"Marshal," the doctor grumbled. "I can't reach the other side unless you let go."
"No," Sheng Long replied flatly.
The doctor blinked. "No?"
"I said no."
Xiao Lin groaned softly. "He's been like this since I passed out. You might as well treat us as a package deal now."
The doctor glared. "Your Majesty, if you want him to survive long enough for a next time, I need to stitch him properly."
Sheng Long looked down at Xiao Lin. His red eyes held stubbornness, guilt, and something soft, barely concealed.
"I almost lost him," he said simply.
The doctor opened his mouth, then paused, seeing the tremor in the Marshal's shoulders. He softened. "Fine. But at least tilt him."
Sheng Long adjusted their position without releasing Xiao Lin, cradling him like a living oath. Xiao Lin flushed faintly, not from pain this time.
"You know," he whispered, "you holding me like this in front of everyone is going to fuel rumors."
"I don't care."
Xiao Lin's breath hitched.
"I'll hold you like this at every public meeting if it means no one ever dares try to hurt you again," Sheng Long added quietly, his voice a low growl only for Xiao Lin's ears.
The doctor coughed. "Please save the romantic declarations until after I've stopped the internal bleeding."
"Too late," Xiao Lin murmured, eyes fluttering. "He already pierced my heart."
The doctor made a dramatic noise of disgust and returned to work.
Elsewhere in the camp, Yan Shuo slammed a prisoner down onto the interrogation table. Blood dripped from the man's lip, but his smile was smug.
"You think you've won?" the man sneered. "You've just proven the rumors. The Marshal and that little fox—he's going to be your empire's end."
Yan Shuo's eyes narrowed. "What rumors?"
"Witchcraft. Seduction. Manipulation. The Marshal's nothing but a puppet now. And the Zerg are coming. Because of him."
"You're lying," Yan Shuo growled.
"Am I?" the assassin said. "Ask An Li."
He bit down hard on something hidden in his cheek, and within seconds, he convulsed. Dead.
Yan Shuo swore and rushed out the door.
Back in the tent, Xiao Lin dozed against Sheng Long's chest, finally stitched and stable.
Sheng Long brushed a strand of hair from his face. "Next time," he whispered, "I'll fight beside you. But if you ever try to disappear from me again, I'll tear the stars down myself to find you."
Xiao Lin stirred, lips curling into a tired smile. "Then I guess… I'll just have to stay where you can see me."
And for the first time in a long time, the Marshal rested too—with his fox safe in his arms.