Page 73 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

Kalie. Alive. Bruised and pale, but bandaged and alive .

Zane’s breath rushed out of him.

But Mylis looked like hell.

“Zane!”

Kalie’s blackened eyes lit up, and she crossed the room quickly, dragging Mylis along with her.

She stopped abruptly, though, at Mylis’s moan of pain as his bandaged foot slammed into the tile floor.

Her lips twisted impatiently, but she slowed her pace, guiding him across the room.

Tears and sweat dampened Mylis’s bruised cheeks as he panted shallowly.

His muscles were taut, and strain creased his face.

A chill snaked across Zane’s skin.

With Kalie shouldering Mylis’s weight—she was so much stronger than anyone gave her credit for, this brave, beautiful woman—they managed to maneuver him into the chair beside the bed. Mylis choked on a pained gasp as his back slammed into the cushion, and Zane passed him a pillow.

Then Kalie was in front of him, and it was her. Only her.

“You came back,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling.

Zane skimmed his swollen tongue against his parched lips, trying to restore some moisture to his mouth so he could speak, but his mouth was too dry. He settled for a smile.

With a cry of joy, Kalie crushed him in a hug. Fiery needles stung his abdomen. He winced, but as he wrapped his arms around her, the aroma of cherry perfume chased the pain away.

“I thought of you,” Zane rasped, stifling a cough. “You brought me back.”

Kalie’s long lashes flitted back and forth as her glittering eyes scoured his face.

She leaned in, and he lost himself in the gentle caress of her lips.

It was a quick kiss, but it spoke of all they’d overcome and all the tomorrows that had opened before them.

A glowing warmth spread from Zane’s chest into his throat and made his eyes burn.

Threading her fingers through his hair, Kalie pulled back. She blushed, and a wide smile stretched across her lips.

The whys and hows didn’t matter; there would be time later to find out where they were, what had happened, how he’d lived. They were safe—or, at least, they seemed to be—and he couldn’t waste this miracle of a moment like he’d wasted all the others.

Then his eyes landed on Mylis, shivering and covered in bandages, hunched over his knees.

His smile vanished. Kalie’s did too. This wasn’t the right time.

She cleared her throat, slanting a wary glance at Mylis. “Let me get you some water.”

Water sloshed as ice cubes clinked. Kalie handed him a plastic cup and poured a second for Mylis. Zane drained the glass, letting a sliver of ice dissolve on his tongue.

Mylis was still struggling to grip the cup. Thick layers of plaster encased his hands. He managed a gulp, but a wince broke across his face as he swallowed, and beads of water sloshed down the front of his hospital gown.

Zane’s first instinct was to help him. Judging by the pity on Kalie’s face, she was thinking the same.

But she backed away.

The weight of a raised pulser hung in the air between them.

Mylis’s gown was paper-thin. No concealed weapons, no hidden knives or pulsers. Still, he didn’t take his eyes off Mylis. He’d been wrong before.

“Are you okay?”

Shivering violently, Mylis clutched at his elbows. That was a no, then.

In a flash, he was back on the bridge, staring in horror as Mylis screamed and thrashed in his chains.

Zane blinked himself out of the memory.

The intercom blared, paging a doctor to the ICU, and a supply cart rattled past the door. Kalie slid onto the dresser, pursing her lips.

“The painkillers aren’t doing anything,” Mylis rasped, gazing at Zane with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

Zane winced. “You should’ve stayed in bed. How did you even get up?”

“Nurse was busy. Hospital’s overcrowded. I stole some crutches.” Mylis shuddered. “I needed to see you guys, to explain…”

“Explanations can wait?—”

“Why did you do it?” Kalie demanded.

Zane frowned at her, and she crossed her arms. Fine. She had a point. Even with the Etovian Praetors posted outside the door, they couldn’t take any risks with Mylis’s loyalties.

“If it wasn’t for Roth, I would’ve starved to death at fifteen.

Or died in a mugging, I don’t know. Either way, I owe your uncle my life.

” Mylis’s voice was painfully hoarse. Something in Zane’s chest cracked as he watched him struggle to sip at the water.

Most of it ended up on his smock. “I knew it was over the moment the other guards turned on you. I would’ve died defending Roth, but there was no way for him to escape.

I figured if I wanted to save him, I’d have to work from the inside. ”

Kalie’s jaw tightened. “You made it sound like you hate him.”

“My whole life, people have been waiting for me to betray him. It was easy to pretend.” Mylis’s shoulders curled inwards.

His soaked gown stuck to the mass of bandages underneath.

“I tried tipping you off when I said Roth taught me to play the long game. You said it when we danced that night, remember? It was a long shot, I know, five cycles is a long time, but… I was hoping you’d pick up on it. ”

A curious look flitted across Kalie’s face, but she scowled. “Forgive me if I was distracted by the pulser you were pointing at my head.”

Zane flinched. The look in her eyes afterwards… He never wanted to see that fear on her face again. But he remembered Mylis pledging to follow Roth into a war they’d surely lose, even as he’d refused. “You’re an idiot,” he’d spat at Mylis, in the face of that blind loyalty.

He’d been on Oppalli. They both had. Sometimes, playing dirty was the only way to win.

Red beads bubbled against the shoulder of Mylis’s smock, and as he winced and clapped a hand over them, Zane’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. I had to try for Roth, but I never would’ve hurt you, I swear?—”

“Mylis, breathe,” Zane urged. The crimson beads had oozed into a wet blotch, leaving Mylis’s fingers slick with blood. “Man, calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself. Breathe .”

Panic still shone in Mylis’s eyes. His gaze darted from the door, to the window, then, absurdly, to the air vent. “I wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t. You have to believe me.”

Zane let out a slow breath.

Right. The traitor’s son . Mylis knew better than most what happened to those who betrayed a duchissa.

A flash of Landon Grant’s gouged-out eyes made Zane choke. He poured another glass of water, gulping down mouthfuls to quell the acid taste in his throat .

Mylis probably hadn’t been told yet, about his father’s death or the reason he’d died. He would do his best to assure Mylis it wasn’t his fault, but his father had died trying to save him, and that guilt would eat him alive.

Kalie remained on the dresser with her arms folded, studying him. Zane gestured at Mylis’s hunched figure.

Look at him . Look at what he’s done for you .

She didn’t move.

Zane grimaced. “I trust him.”

Desperate relief shone in Mylis’s blackened eyes, and Kalie’s stony expression twitched.

Sliding off the dresser, she crossed the room.

She hesitated by the foot of the bed, glancing from Zane to Mylis and back again.

Her arms dropped to her sides, but the tilt of her head and the thin line of her lips were the picture of suspicion.

Mylis was still shaking. His shoulder was still bleeding.

“Kalie.” Zane’s eyes found hers, and some of the tension on her face eased. He’s going to let himself bleed out here if you don’t forgive him , he almost said. “He risked his life to warn you about the invasion. He nearly died for it. I trust him. So can you.”

Kalie drew her lip between her teeth. Her gaze flicked to Mylis’s hand, still pressed against his bleeding shoulder, and she grabbed a stack of gauze off a cart.

His wide, blackened eyes turned to her as she held out the gauze. “It’s going to take me a while to get past what happened, but I want us to be friends again. Take time to recover. Heal. Then we’ll have a game of mortelle and talk. Okay?”

Zane could’ve sworn she smiled, if only for a moment.

Mylis’s eyes glistened. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you .”

“No.” Kalie inhaled slowly. “Thank you. Zane’s right. If you hadn’t tipped us off about the invasion, I never could’ve stopped Carik. Perhaps I owe you a debt.”

A distant look flashed across her face, and she tilted her head to the side, considering.

After a moment, the haze cleared and she shook the gauze forcefully, pressing a button on Zane’s bedside remote.

“I owe both of you. But none of that does any good if you bleed out, so take the gauze until the nurse gets here.”

With a tentative smile that strained his split lip, Mylis accepted the gauze and slid it under the collar of his smock. “Where’s Mira? I expected to find her here.”

Zane’s grin slid away. There was an empty chair by the window.

The air grew too hot, the room too tight.

“I need to thank her,” Mylis mumbled. “She found me there, slipped me painkillers…”

The rest of his words dulled as Zane’s pulse thumped in his ears. The monitor beeped rapidly. A doctor’s voice blared over the intercom, paging nurses to a patient who’d crashed.

That chair.

Empty.

Oh, Mordir.

“Zane?”

He barely choked out, “Where’s Mira?”

“She’s gone.”

Zane’s heart slammed to a halt. The machine screeched.

Gone. She couldn’t be gone. Mira had been shot and stabbed and walked through explosions like it was nothing.

No way in hell a few legionnaires had finished her off.

They couldn’t have, not when he’d left so much unresolved between them, not when he’d been so cruel to her the last time they’d spoken.

“I mean she left,” Kalie said, grabbing his hand. Her warm touch jolted him out of his spiral. “She got you secure and called me, after I shot—after Iliana died. She’s okay.”

Zane sank into the pillows, blowing out a slow breath. That made more sense.