Page 121 of Shifter King

His presence had only agitated Naatos further. Wherever he was, it was not a place that allowed for any sort of comfort or connection. And at this rate— at this rate, he was going to kill himself in there or break free.

AaQar held his head, going over the plan and adjusting it for what was likely to happen. The mental checklist always had the same overall goal, but its individual tasks changed. Over the past hours, Naatos had gone through periods of near lucidity and raging insanity. It was worse than when Naatos took kahweol and tanninbist together. Thank all mercy he hadn't fully devolved into a skinchanger state.

QueQoa glanced down at the entrance. "Is there nothing we can do to help him?"

"Right now, the only way we can really help is to make sure that we get Amelia back. And maybe figure out a cure or antidote for the venoms they have."

"Does this mean that she's still—" QueQoa dropped his gaze back to the cracked earth. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

"Probably."

"How long will it last?"

"She should have come out of it hours ago. But who knows how they have changed it or how it will interact with her since Dry Deep." There were always consequences. And often consequences they couldn't prepare for. A painful twisting in his gut told him that the worst was likely to happen. "I think at this point we must assume it is only us who will be attending the wedding, QueQoa. So…we're going to meet Opotwo to see if they have the antidote for two of the venoms. Then we'll see what else must be done."

"Do you think it's safe to leave him alone?" QueQoa asked.

"I'm more worried for what might find him."

PETITION

Of all the ways he might have planned for it to go with the prince, WroOth had not expected this route. But if things started going his and Amelia's way, he was more than happy to accept it.

All that mattered was getting her out and through this wedding.

He sent the message to the queen as instructed, then he returned to the small quarters he shared with Amelia. The guards stood at attention a few feet away from the door, immaculate, eyes straight ahead. So far so good.

He opened the door, then halted. Blood. He smelled blood. Neyeb blood. She was bleeding.

Bolting in, he slammed the door shut. She sat in the corner, writing on the wall with her own blood.

He grabbed her bloodied hand. "No, no. No, don’t do that. Oh no, dear heart."

"Forty." She struggled to speak, blinking with the effort. "They have forty."

"Shhh, I’m sure they do." He held her hand fast. She'd gouged cuts in her arm next to the shrieking chimera tattoo as well with her fingernail. The number forty as well. "Just rest, dear heart. Rest and breathe. We're almost there." They were more than halfway through. But if the prince succeeded in convincing his mother to let them go to the royal chambers in the upper levels, maybe an escape opportunity would present itself.

He pressed his hand to his brow. Did this mean Naatos was still trapped in some semblance of this nightmare? What would that even feel like? He wasn't sure how AaQar and QueQoa could manage him. It was hard enough contending with Amelia in this state. He frowned as he looked at what she'd done.

These marks she had made on the wall. They were—lines and symbols. A few words. Some had blurred so much he couldn't make them out.

"No, WroOth," she said, struggling to stand. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed.

"Oh, hold up there." He caught her before she struck the floor, then sighed. "Getting you down the aisle is going to be a challenge, isn't it?" That wretched queen. What all had been in that wine?

She hugged him tight. "I have to remember it all," she murmured.

"It would probably be for the best if you didn't remember this," he said as he placed her on the bed. "You should rest."

She dropped her head back. The whites of her eyes had gone completely red. "There's just so many pieces. How do I know if I got them all?"

"Probably when you can't hold any more." He set his hands on his waist. Sweet falona, she was messed up.

"WroOth. The wedding. After the pronouncements. She will. Poison arrows."

He lifted his eyebrow.

A knock sounded at the door. "The queen will see you now, Ruth."