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“That’s what they all say,” Draven joked.
I had no witty reply. Feeling suddenly frenzied with worry, I moved to help him, hands trembling as I pulled off the encumbering layers of metal. The clang of armor hitting the ground echoed through the grove.
I moved to stand in front of Draven, and my heart sank. The other end of the tree branch had penetrated the thick, padded layers of the gambeson beneath. I could see the uneven, blood-coated ridges of the wood poking through from the other side.
Draven caught my hand. “Morgan, it’s nothing. Truly, I’ll be fine.”
He could have been right. I knew fae healed unusually quickly, Draven in particular. I had seen that for myself before. A mortal man would probably have died instantaneously.
Still, I shook my head. “We need to get you to a healer. You’re not invincible, Draven, no matter what you might think.”
He smiled, and a trickle of blood ran from his lip, sending my heart crashing.
“Besides,” I said softly, touching his lip with a finger, “no matter how much you might think you’re fine, I can’t stand to see you in pain. Any sort of pain. Just as you can’t stand to see me in any. Surely you can understand that.”
He caught my hand and, raising it to his mouth, kissed it. “Fine. For you.”
He dropped my hand and shrugged his shoulders with care as he winced. “And perhaps because this damned tree branch hurts a little more than a mere sliver.”
He groaned and moved to lean up against a nearby tree.
“I’m not surprised,” I started to say but the sound of beating battlecat wings cut me off.
I turned, expecting to see Nightclaw landing behind me.
But instead, Daegen’s sapphire eyes pierced through me. My older brother smiled triumphantly as he slid off his silver battlecat. “Caught you.”
“Can’t you tell when you’re not wanted?” I said sweetly.
“Pardon me, Sister. Am I interrupting a tender moment?” He peered at Draven with interest. “Or perhaps your mate is conveniently on the brink of death? That would simplify things nicely.”
“He’s fine,” I snapped. “Strong as an ox. Healthy as a horse.”
From behind me, I heard Draven mutter, “Fucking bastard.”
Daegen put a hand to his ear. “What was that? Not a very polite fellow, is he, Sister?”
His arms struck out, and coils of shadow shot past me. I let out a cry and turned to see them wrapping around Draven, binding him to the tree.
“What’s this?” Daegen said exuberantly. “Not even going to try to stop me, Siabra?”
“I don’t need to,” Draven said through a clenched jaw. “She can do it easily.”
“Letting a woman fight your battles? Is that how your people do it?” Daegen’s expression was disdainful. “You’d never survive in my father’s court. Such weakness would never be tolerated.”
“We’ll never be in your father’s court,” I said.
“Well, he won’t. You certainly will. Father knows best, Morgan. And he says you’re coming back to us.”
“Fuck off, Daegen. Just fuck right off.”
“I can’t, sadly. Besides, this is too much fun. And too easy.”
The worst part was I knew he was right. Draven was struggling against his bonds, but the fact that he hadn’t broken them already meant his wound must have been worse than he’d let on.
Furthermore, we’d exhausted ourselves fighting in the skies.
As I looked around the grove, I realized just how much time had passed.
