Varek doesn’t step closer—because he knows that would be stupid. Instead, he inclines his head in something between diplomacy and self-preservation. “Thank you for coming.”
Henny doesn’t respond. Just stares.
Varek moves on quickly. “We relocated Dawson to a medical room on the west side of Dathanor.”
I nod, understanding immediately. That area isn’t for residents. It’s cordoned off. Secure. Likely hiding the prince away as much as possible—though let’s be real, everyone knows he’s here.
Shit. Has Aelith been throwing his title around? I want to ask. I won’t, though, not with Henny and Kael here. Instead, I cut straight to what matters. “What’s his status?”
Iris speaks before Varek can. “Explain while we walk. I want to see him.”
No argument there.
We move, falling into step with Varek leading us. I stay at Iris’s side, Kael a silent shadow behind me. Henny lingers just beyond that, and even with all the space around us, everyone gives him a wide berth.
Varek doesn’t comment, keeping his voice level as he starts explaining. “He was conscious once, but not for long,” he says. “His body isn’t stabilising. We put him on a drip.”
I nod. “Good thing we’ve scavenged enough human buildings to stock some medical supplies.”
“It’s helped,” Varek agrees. “But his vitals keep fluctuating. He should be dead.”
Something in my stomach twists. “But he’s not.”
“No.” Varek glances at me. “Not yet.”
The unease in his voice needles at me, but I keep my focus forwards as we step outside. The air is fresh. Familiar. It smells like home.
The blue sky and green grass back at Iris’s place were glorious, but this—this is real. Not conjured. Not built from the dreams of a woman who wanted to live in a Christmas movie.
Dathanor is mine. And I belong here. Something I can’t believe I’m actually admitting to myself, but here I am.
The walk is short, our route avoiding prying eyes. But when we arrive at the west gate, the guards let us through immediately. I catch the way their gazes widen slightly when they see me. And damn it, is it bad that I want to stick my chest out a little?
Because fuck yeah, I made this happen. Admittedly, Kael may have done the grunt work, but I managed to not get us killed by Henny. It’s a definite win.
The moment Varek silently opens the door to the medical bay, my self-praise screeches to a halt. My gaze lands on Dawson, and my stomach plummets.What the fuck?He’s pale—so pale, his skin looks almost translucent. His usual warmth, the deep bronze of his complexion, is gone.
“We were only gone three days,” I whisper, my voice wobbly.
A sharp movement pulls my attention. The prince. Prince Aelith looks—fuck. He looks haggard. Barely half the Glowranth he was when we left. The sharp lines of his face seem more pronounced, his posture wrong, like he’s not just exhausted but drained.
Kael’s worry slams into me. It’s visceral. Deep. Shakes my very core, and it propels him forwards. He doesn’t hesitate, moving straight to his prince’s side.
I watch the exchange, the way Kael’s hands press to Aelith’s shoulders, steadying him, offering whatever comfort he can. Aelith exhales sharply, and though he doesn’t speak, I feel the weight of what passes between them. My chest tightens.
Iris, meanwhile, rushes straight to Dawson, her movements quick and certain.
A sound rumbles low in the room.
The prince.
A warning.
Kael turns sharply. “No.” The word is a command, his voice edged with steel, and Aelith stills, though tension vibrates through his body. Then, suddenly?—
Black mist billows into the room. Thick. Blinding.
I curse, instinctively reaching for Kael, but before I can so much as move, Iris’s voice cuts through the haze. “Henny, knock it off!”
