Page 56 of A Fate of Blood and Magic (Fated #2)

Chapter

Twenty-Five

TEDDY

Donnie’s lips and fingernails held a bluish tint to them. Worse, though, was the way his skin stretched at the base of his neck with every forced breath he took.

To think this was an improvement from the past four days.

I didn’t have any magic to help him this time, and Leah was at a clinic in Somnio aiding others.

Even if she were here, her magic was exhausted and sputtered in and out of existence, making her healing unreliable.

Alastor had tried to help, but his healing magic wasn’t strong enough, and it would only ease his lungs for a short period before Donnie worsened again.

Besides, his headache hadn’t improved much and only worsened with each effort.

As much as I wanted Donnie to be able to breathe, I didn’t want Alastor making himself any sicker.

So I did the only thing I could do and held his cold, clammy hand while we waited for Leah to arrive. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take much longer since both Ryenne and Nate had left a long time ago with a fae who could bend space.

His grip tightened when he wheezed through his next breath. I pushed his hair away from where it clung to his sweaty forehead as I watched the ragged way his chest heaved up and down.

What was in the air and smoke that had affected him so poorly? It was breaking my heart to see him like this. So. ..weak. So not Donnie.

From Leah’s accounts, others were in similar or worse condition. Elias believed the fires and smoke were controlled by magic. I hated that he not only suspected the shifters but his own people.

For the time being, though, my attention was on Elias, our kids, and Donnie. It was all I could manage.

I turned to the bedroom door when it swung open. The female shifter, Cierra, barreled through with a tote bag in her hand. She rushed to Donnie’s other side, where she pulled out a mask and what I swore was a nebulizer.

When she handed me the mask still housed in a plastic wrap, I tore through it and placed the liquid medicine she unscrewed into the small plastic cup.

“My brother and I found all this at an abandoned pharmacy not too far from where you used to live,” she said. “I thought this might help since your healer’s magic hasn’t been responding correctly.”

I wasn’t sure who she spoke to, but I nodded in appreciation while my stomach dropped at the mention of the magic that had started to dwindle and flicker throughout all of Niev. Elias believed it was because of overuse and would return when things had settled.

Once I finished assembling the mask, I handed it to Cierra, who hooked the tubing to the bottom of the cup.

While Cierra worked on channeling her magic into the machine to start it, I helped Donnie sit, using several pillows to keep him propped up. Donnie held the mask over his nose and mouth with trembling fingers.

Cierra sat next to him, holding the mask for him when he closed his eyes. His hand sought mine, and I clasped onto it while I moved to sit beside him.

“Every fifth breath, try to take a deep inhale and hold it for two to three seconds,” Cierra said, her tone firm.

He did as she said, and slowly, painstakingly slowly, his breathing improved. His wheezing decreased while his chest began to rise and fall at a slower tempo.

When I rested my head on his shoulder, he placed his head atop mine. The stubble of the beard that’d started to grow overnight scratched my forehead.

How I’d missed this. How many times after Mom had died had we sat like this, him offering his quiet support? Before that, he’d done the same after a bad day or breakup or whatever other drama had splintered my heart.

None of those heartbreaks had prepared me for the possibility of losing him so suddenly.

Donnie straightened when Cierra removed his mask and turned the machine off, uttering a whispered, “ Thank you, ” before he rested his head back over mine. Cierra stood by the foot of the bed, her worried gaze on Donnie while she fidgeted with the tote bag’s straps.

“I didn’t think to look for nebulizer treatment,” I told her.

In fact, I’d become so dependent on magic I hadn’t thought to search for any medication back in my home realm. It was something we needed to consider if magic continued to work so erratically.

She dug through the tote bag and pulled out a small, rectangular box that she put on the small table at Donnie’s bedside. “I brought back a rescue inhaler and some steroids— both pills and injection. Oh, and the pamphlets I found that explain lung illnesses and treatments.”

“I appreciate it.” Donnie’s voice came out hoarse, and he coughed to clear it.

“I’ll just leave it here.” Cierra turned to the door just as Elias entered, holding a hot mug of tea I recognized as the medicinal herb we often used.

“This’ll help with the way your heart’s racing,” Elias said, looking at the mug he held rather than at Donnie.

I sat up when Elias handed me the mug.

“The pamphlets said the medication could cause increased heart rate and trembling. Although it may be normal, I’m sure you’d feel better if it ceased.” Cierra let out a nervous laugh as she rubbed her left shoulder.

Donnie shifted, taking the mug from me. When his hands shook around the mug, Cierra sat beside him again. She guided the mug to his mouth, and the way he watched her was adorable.

I stood, nudging Elias’s foot with mine while I grinned at one of my oldest friends. Not that Donnie noticed.

“We should head out,” I said, taking Elias’s hand in mine.

“Evander would like to speak to you again about your prisoners,” Cierra said, helping Donnie lower the mug.

“I’m headed to our home now to hold an informal council on what to do with them.” Elias pulled his hair into a neat bun. “It won’t be with our new council, but I’d like to get ideas of what those I trust are thinking. Evander’s welcome to come if he’d like.”

“Are you going to kill them?” Donnie asked.

“Before I met you, my answer would’ve been yes,” Elias said, staring at his boots. “I don’t know anymore, Donnie.” He lifted his face but still didn’t meet Donnie’s gaze while his throat bobbed. “They killed children. They killed a lot of good people.”

Donnie nodded, moving his hand to cover the top of the steaming mug. “They killed innocent children and civilians. They killed the woman who raised me.” His voice came out raspy.

My chest twisted painfully at the loss of Grandma Richter.

She hadn’t simply been my best friends’ grandma, but mine too.

She’d stepped in when Mom had been busy with work, taking an even greater role in our lives when Mom had fallen ill.

She’d kept me together, understanding why I couldn’t move from my cabin into her home after Mom had died.

Losing Grandma Richter still didn’t feel real, and a part of me expected her to walk into Bon’s hut to fuss over Donnie. Since she never did, would never be able to, it was Ryenne who’d prayed over her brother, stumbling over the same words Grandma Richter would’ve said with confidence.

Hearing her prayer brought me a sense of calm I hadn’t felt since before twenty-two people had tried to attack my home.

“They went after Teddy in your own home,” Donnie continued, and I couldn’t fight the way my body tensed at the reminder. “They abducted your people; they’ve kept them captive in horrible conditions and have killed far too many of them.”

And several of those they hadn’t killed in the compounds had died in the explosion at the castle.

George’s seer magic had seen the second explosion minutes before it’d happened, and while he’d been able to evacuate many, including Etienne, Leah, and other healers, those who’d been too injured to move had died at their hands while others still remained trapped beneath the rubble.

When Brenton had searched for Queen Renee’s and Grandma Richter’s bodies, he’d also found the dead bodies of Gracie and her boys clinging to Sebastian. While I hadn’t seen them, I couldn’t shake the terror they must’ve felt.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve threatened to kill people for doing far less to Ry or Ted.

I understand wanting to kill them, I really do, and a part of me wishes I could think differently, but I don’t.

Either each life is precious or none of them are.

” Donnie took in a slow breath that ended with a wet cough.

“I took an oath to protect life because I believe life matters. And Grandma taught me the only one who can judge us is God. I don’t know how to change the way I think. ”

“Who said you have to?” Cierra asked.

Taking the mug from him, she tipped it to his mouth where he took another sip.

After another hard, loud swallow, he leaned his head back against the pillows. “You said it yourself,” he said, his attention on Cierra. “If the answer to your offered help is an attempt on your life, the consequence is death.”

“I’m tired of all the death.” Elias’s face was drawn, his shoulders slumped forward, and voice tainted in fatigue. It was a rare showing of his true emotions that he typically kept bottled up.

Donnie looked back at him in surprise.

Ryenne rushed through the open door with Leah and Nate behind her. She took everyone in, slowly assessing Donnie and how much he’d improved while she was gone. Her lips tipped up at the way Cierra continued to help Donnie drink even though he’d stopped trembling .

“I didn’t realize you’d be the kind of sick person who needs to be pampered,” Ryenne said.

Nate tugged her to his side with a smile while Donnie glared at her as heat rose to his cheeks.

“If he’ll let you, maybe you can shave his scruffy face,” Ryenne teased. “For some reason, my brother won’t trust me with a razor near him.”

I snorted, but hell, it was good to be able to laugh. It was even better that the teasing came from Ryenne, who’d barely spoken since the day of the attacks.

But my spitfire friend still lived inside her.

“No idea why,” Nate muttered.