Carter was still carrying Willow in his arms as they rode toward Easthaven. He had checked on her periodically, and she looked as though she was worsening each time.
He was correct. Her body was now on fire, and she was drenched in sweat.
This was very dangerous, considering how cold the weather was. She could die of exposure.
They had to find civilization quickly and shelter, or Willow would not make it.
Although, by the looks of her, he doubted she would survive. The plague was ravaging her body, and sadly, his wolf's senses told him her death was pending.
He watched Dahlia dismount from her stallion and lead her horse to the stream, tethering it to a tree branch next to his horse.
The steeds were both slurping up the icy mountain water, taking a well-deserved rest.
As much as he wanted to tell Dahlia the truth about Willow's condition, Carter did not have the heart.
