The blackened blood of our enemy is streaked across her face, but where her skin was pale when she dropped on the courtyard steps, it’s now burned, the flesh blistering from the remnants of the witcheswane on my armor.
My cursing only grows more vicious and colorful the longer I look at the damage I’ve done to her. Despite the grime of war covering her, there isn’t a single mark on her from the battle itself… only from my hold on her and the poison I’m coated in.
She’s prevailed against everything… except the mate given to her by the Fates themselves.
The mere thought of stepping out of this room is too much. I fight with it for a heartbeat, but my gaze is fixed on my Fates-blessed mate.
It takes a strength I didn’t know I possessed to pry myself away.
Airlie simply nods as she moves past me toward the bed. “I’ll help Firna get her cleaned of the poison, Roan will oversee the castle being cleaned, Tyton and Tauron will see to the sentries and soldiers, to be sure we’re not taken by surprise with a second attack. You need to bathe and rid yourself of the poison while we fix this mess. You must trust us all, cousin—you're not thinking clearly right now.”
There's no doubt of that.
I don't know how any of them can think clearly right now, not while her skin is blistering before our eyes. Her wounds alone propel me away from the bed and her vulnerable form. Then my feet slow, and I pause in the doorway as the Fates’ screaming breaks through the haze of my mind and renders me useless. I'm commanded to stay here, to stay withher.
With little more than a stern look in my direction, Airlie swiftly takes action, her fingers deft and knowing as she begins to pull the silver pins out of Rooke’s robes to loosen them.
Roan is careful about his approach to me, but his hand is firm as he takes hold of my shoulder to drag me out of the room. His gaze stays on the floor, never once lifting as the women work to strip Rooke down, and it’s only the wall coming between us that finally tears my own gaze from her.
My touch was scalding her; even with layers of clothing between us, every inch of her skin that pressed against me is burned and raw.
“She's fine—” Roan starts but I cut him off with a snarl.
Anyone else might stop there, but he continues as though I’m not trembling with unspent rage. “She's breathing, her heart is steady in her chest. Listen to it, you can hear it as well as I can. There are no other healers in the castle who can help her, it’s best to do as Airlie says. Let them tend to her while you clean yourself. Airlie would never allow her to be harmed, and I'll guard this room in your absence myself. On my son’s life, no harm will come to her, Soren.”
When I finally meet his gaze, his eyes are unwavering in his solemn face. My questions are useless; I know better than any of them how dire our situation has become, but my desperation doesn’t see reason and I ask them regardless.
“Are there no other healers? Nothing we can do but clean her and hope for the Fates’ mercies? They owe me no good will, Roan, you know that as well as I do. Fuck, they could take her just for my insolence, and there’snothingI could do about it.”
He shakes his head, shifting carefully around me to close the door behind us and leave the women to their dutiful work. He probably hopes concealing Rooke and her injuries will help to clear my addled senses, but it’s no use. I can't move any farther away from the door.
The Fates themselves demand I stay.
Glancing around at the maids dutifully scrubbing the witcheswane from my chambers, I find Roan and, surprisingly,Reed waiting in my reception room. Every muscle in my body tightens as I prepare myself to lunge at him, not just another male too close to my Fates-blessed mate butthisone, whom she favors. Keenly aware of my volatile state, Roan throws himself in front of me to block the soldier from my view.
Reed ducks into a deep bow, his words clear but urgent. “My apologies, Your Highness, but there’s someone I know of who could aid the witch.”
The Outland soldier doesn’t attempt to enter my chambers any farther than the door he lingers before. Roan growls at him, frustrated he caught my attention, but my eyes narrow as Reed rushes to explain himself.
“The female who runs the orphanage. When Rooke gave out her elixirs to the children there, she had some knowledge of healing. I'm not sure the extent, and it could be a futile task?—“
“Go.” I cut him off. “Find her and bring her to me, throw her over your shoulder if you have to, just get her here now.”
Reed bows deeply and strides off without another word or moment wasted. I glance down at my armor once more, as though simply looking at it will clear the witcheswane from my body.
Roan tries to reason with me. “I understand how you’re feeling?—”
Yet another snarl torn from my chest unbidden interrupts him, but Roan simply lifts a hand as though it’s a peace offering. “I’m the only one within the castle who might come close to understanding how you're feeling right now, Soren, but you need to stop and consider your actions.”
Why he thinks I’m capable of that reasoning is beyond me. “The Fates are fucking laughing now! She stepped off the side of that wall as though it werenothing,” I hiss at him, and he nods.
“I saw. I also saw your reaction to it. You think I don't understand what it feels like to be sure that the Fates are aboutto take away the very mate they handed you? My path might look different to yours, but I understand that feeling very well, and your reaction right now is the first glimmer of hope I've had in this entire cursed situation so far.”
The haze lifts a little, and the severity of Rooke’s words to our greatest enemy sinks a little further into my mind, the room sharpening around me. “She's going to kill him. She's going to kill Kharl Balzog and end the war.”
We’re interrupted by a gasp from behind the door. “It looks as though she was torn in half.”
Bile climbs up the back of my throat as my chest constricts, the walls of the room closing in on me. I stared down certain death at the hands of Kharl’s armies steady and true, but those words almost bring me to my knees.
