Kael reaches for me. His fingers hover just shy of my arm, like he’s about to?—
Aelith calls his name.
Kael clenches his jaw. Then, slowly, his hand tightens into a fist, and he pulls away. Without another word, he turns and follows his prince, leaving me sitting here alone.
Always a-fucking-lone.
I press my hands against my thighs, forcing in a deep breath.
Get it together, Sonny.
I glance towards Aeroth’s retreating form.See if they need help.
Kael might be some elite warrior. Aelith might be a prince. ButIknow humans. Our medic found some books, sure—but I’ve watched enoughGrey’s Anatomyto pick up a thing or two.
And right now? That’s going to have to be enough.
It’s definitely enough to get my butt off the floor and make me stop feeling sorry for myself. Of course Aelith is terrified and needs his guard. Even though Dawson remains clueless, he and the prince are fated mates. From what I know, the prince will feel the bond acutely. Not so much for Dawson, who may feel some sort of attraction or pull, I suspect, to Aelith, but nothing hard-core or truly intense until they’ve completed the bond or at least some of the stages.
Or so I’ve heard. I can only assume it’s the same for the Glowranth.
Drawing in a breath, I pull myself together. My hands are still a little shaky, but I’m sure I’m not going to pitch over or make a twat of myself if I try to walk.
By the time I make it to the medical room—the same place I first set eyes on Dawson—I’m feeling more like myself. Aeroth looks up when I enter, the clicky language indicating she wants me here. I hold back my relieved sigh. I shouldn’tfeel joy knowing I’m useful, right? Especially not when a golden retriever of a sweet man collapsed and stopped breathing.
The thought sobers me up, and I take a moment to peer around the room.
Aelith still has his hand clamped around Dawson’s, and I assume from that—and him being in Aeroth’s way—that he refuses to let go. My gaze shifts to Kael, and disappointment that’s as ridiculous as it is real slams into me when I see his focus is completely on his prince.
I roll my eyes at myself before moving past them, not even giving a shit that I brush against—with a little more force than necessary—the hulk of a guard as I do. And fuck, the diva in me needs to wind his neck in. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I felt the need for my inner diva to step out. Certainly not since being in Terrafeara.
I kinda want to embrace it. I think that’s what going without sex for so long has done to me—both addled my brain and made me be a petty bitch. Until I remind myself to do better and reluctantly put my claws away.
Right now, I should be doing just that, considering poor Dawson almost died.
Fuck, I’m a twat who needs to do better and ideally stop having inner meltdowns while a bunch of folks are standing around worried and apparently waiting for me to say or do something. Because yes, Aelith’s eyes are on me.
“You saved him.” His voice is gruff. The emotion trapped in his throat makes me squirm with discomfort.
“Uhm, hopefully. I got him breathing at least.” The slightest of smiles forms on my lips, uncomfortable offering the prince any kind of sympathy. But I’m not a complete cunt.
“Save him again. Wake him up. If not, there will be consequences.”
My brows shoot high at the heat, the cruel authority in the prince’s tone. It’s wrapped around what I’m sure is a very real threat. He’s terrified, I know. But still… “What the fuck do you expect me to do? I don’t have the ability to weave magic. I’m not a human doctor.”
“You breathed life into him. Keep fixing him. If not?—”
“Aelith.” Kael reaches out and clamps his huge hand on his prince’s shoulder. “Enough. Making threats will not work here. Sonny has done all he can. If there is more he can do, he will do so.” He glances at me, his expression stoic, but there’s emotion in his gaze that has me swallowing deeply and helps calm my irritation. “Right, Sonny?”
The question lacks demand, and the last of my ire falls away. “Of course I will.”
Aeroth intervenes with a question I can only partially decipher, but it’s enough for me to get the gist.
I nod at her and turn back to Aelith, whose luminous eyes are firmly on me. “Aeroth wants to knowexactlywhat happened. When he stopped breathing, were there signs or clues?” I consider what else to ask to help him be as specific as possible. “Was Dawson talking, listening? Did you notice him eating anything different at breakfast?”
“Someone poisoned him?” Aelith stands abruptly, hand moving to where his sword should be. I’m kinda grateful Varek made them remove all their weapons as a condition of their entry.
But also, for fuck’s sake. Dramatic and reactive much? I swear, there’s only enough space for one drama queen, and I refuse to shed that title to a prince I wish would fuck right off.
