Page 149 of Twist of Fate

Behind them, Avaneel emerged from Zer’s hair. Ash streaked her face and wings.

“She brought down the buyer’s shield,” Luke said, turning Gomez’s attention to the tiny pixie.

Gomez lifted his head. “She did what?”

“I ate a hole in the bad magic,” Avaneel explained.

Gomez turned toward the other pixies. “Did everyone hear that? Avaneel ate through a magical shield and saved all their giant warrior asses.”

The armory erupted in excited voices.

Asterius placed one hand over his chest. “I believe some credit belongs to those of us who provided the distraction.”

Gomez looked at him. “Did you eat a magical shield?”

“No.”

“Then this moment isn’t about you.”

Avaneel beamed as the other pixies surrounded her. Zer stood close enough to intervene if their excitement became too much, but some of the tension left his face as he watched Gomez make a fuss over her.

Gomez returned his attention to Luke. “You need a healer.”

“I need to sit down.”

“You can do both.” Gomez slid one careful arm around Luke.

Connal moved to Luke’s other side, his hand settling carefully against Luke’s back, and together they started toward the healers.

Luke let them carry some of his weight.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Unseelie healer took one look at Luke where he sat slouched in one of the oversized chairs and ordered everyone out of Connal’s chamber.

No one moved.

Gomez remained planted beside Luke, glowing flowers still tangled through his hair. Connal stood close enough that his thigh pressed against Luke’s knee. Even the pixies refused to leave, hovering above Gomez in an anxious cloud.

“I require room to work,” the healer said.

“You have room,” Gomez replied.

The healer’s gaze shifted to Connal.

“I am not leaving my mate.”

“Of course you aren’t.” She pointed toward the far wall. “The rest of you can wait over there and attempt not to bleed on anything important.”

Tyson caught Asterius’s arm and pulled him away before he could object. Keir and Zer followed more willingly, with Zer keeping one hand near his hair where Avaneel had disappeared.

Luke forced himself to remain still while careful hands examined his ribs, throat, wrist, and damaged fingers. Nothing appeared to alarm the healer.

“Bruised ribs. Strained wrist. Several minor burns.” She lifted his injured hand and frowned at the torn nail. “This will be unpleasant.”

“It already is.”

“I meant for me. You are a difficult patient.”