Page 66 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

Before he could demand to know where she was, his uncle had already pressed a button on one of the many screens scattered around the large hospital bed. What felt like less than a second later, a small fleet of healers, nurses, and doctors swarmed the room.

Everything was a bit of a blur for a while after that as they asked him to wiggle his toes, take deep breaths, and stare into little pen lights.

There was a lot of murmuring, and although everyone fawned over him and seemed palpably relieved he was awake, no one spoke to him about his injuries or recovery.

Someone said something about getting him checked by a mind healer, and another made baffled noises about not being able to heal a scar on his right palm, but that was all he caught.

It was a storm of activity, little of which made any sense to him. They moved as a unit and, after assuring him that all was well, they left as one.

Exhausted and even more irritable than he’d been before, Taevas pressed the button to elevate his bed, which put him into a slightly more dignified sitting position.

It wasn’t comfortable, necessarily, but he didn’t feel the pain that came from having his wings wedged between his back and the mattress, so there had been many improvements since he was last awake. “Onu,” he began, quickly reaching the end of his rope, “where is my—”

A knock on the door interrupted him. Letting out a sharp breath, Taevas gestured for his uncle to open it.

He supposed he should’ve expected it, but it still came as a surprise when practically his entire clan burst into the room. Purple and red and white and green and tan faces gathered around him in a swirl of activity and tears. Even the far-flung members of his clan had come to see him.

Everyone spoke at once, and he lost track of the number of one-armed hugs he received. A toddler was carefully hovered over him so she could plant a series of messy kisses onto his cheeks, her little red wings flapping with delight.

Taevas gratefully stroked Emilia’s dark hair out of her eyes and tried to summon a smile for her, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

Paloma, his cousin Artem’s mate, gave him a worried look as she gently pulled her daughter away.

While everyone else was overjoyed, only she seemed to notice that Taevas’s gaze couldn’t settle in one place for long, or that he grew more tense with every passing second.

Leaning close, she murmured, “Is this too much? I can get everyone out of here.”

Taevas shook his head. “No, I…” Where is she?

His gaze roved over all the familiar faces until he found two standing just behind the small crowd — his radiant cousin Hele and Vael.

Vael wore his Wing uniform and appeared as though he hadn’t slept in days.

His dark green face was gaunt, his eyes shadowed.

He had one arm tightly wrapped around Hele’s slim waist like he needed to be touching her.

Hele looked little better. She didn’t require sleep, but the air of exhaustion and worry hung around her like a miasma.

Ask, something whispered in the back of his mind. Not his voice, but someone else’s.

Before he could open his mouth, Constantin caught the direction of his gaze and cleared his throat. Gesturing for Hele and Vael to approach the bed, he explained, “You have our Hele to thank for finding you. She was chasing a lead near the border of the Packlands when she spotted the car.”

Taevas’s eyes narrowed. “You… found me?”

Hele patted her Chosen’s arm, which fell from her waist reluctantly, before she stepped up to the bedside.

Taking one of Taevas’s hands, she explained in her blunt way, “I saw a car parked dangerously by the side of the road and went to check that everything was well. When I found you inside, I used the nav system to call Vael, who ordered an m-gate to the hospital.”

The hair stood up on the back of his neck and arms. The way she said it, it sounded like she’d found Taevas abandoned by the side of the road. But that couldn’t be right. Alashiya had been with him. He knew that. He also knew that she’d never leave him. Not willingly.

A cold feeling settled into his chest — the prelude to an explosion of instinctive panic. “Side of the…” Gaze bouncing between Hele and Vael’s grim faces, he asked, “You found me in a car? Alone?”

A ripple of tension went around the room. Even Emilia, who’d been happily babbling a story to her grandmother about taking Taevas to visit a river, went quiet.

Vael braced one hand on the railing of the bed when he roughly explained, “No. Not alone. There was a woman with you.”

Shiya.

Taevas tensed. The heart rate monitor beside his bed began to beep in earnest when he demanded, “Where is she?”

Hele and Vael shared a loaded look. Taevas knew them both well. Certainly well enough to see the aftermath of a blistering argument in that singular look. Hele was angry with her Chosen, but what that had to do with Alashiya was beyond him.

Speaking slowly, Vael said, “The nymph was found with a cache of weapons, sedatives, and black market shift-suppressants. She was also covered in your blood and had obviously been transporting you across territory lines.”

Taevas understood what he was saying. He heard the words, picked up the implication. But it was so patently outrageous, and the consequences of the accusation so horrific, he simply could not process it.

His tone was flat when he asked again, “Where is she, Vael?”

Obviously trying to soothe him, Constantin answered, “Vael took her into custody for kidnapping and attempted murder of the Isand, Taevas. She’s being held in—”

He didn’t make the decision to rip out his IV, nor lurch upright to grab Vael by the scruff of his neck. It just happened. All he heard was that Alashiya had been taken into custody. In an instant, he knew exactly where they’d be holding her, what kind of questions they’d be asking her.

His Alashiya. Held for kidnapping and attempted murder. In his territory.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Vael had done the only sensible thing in the moment. Even if Alashiya told him the whole truth, the story was outrageous and the only evidence available pointed to her as the main suspect. He knew what was in that SUV, and all of it was damning.

But to think that his Chosen, as soft and kind and devoted as she was, could have all her efforts to save him rewarded with suspicion and imprisonment… Shame and outrage were a potent cocktail swirling with the pain medication in his veins.

He’d sworn to keep her safe. He’d told her again and again how wonderful the ’Riik would be, how she’d be treated with nothing but respect by his people. But the very first time she set foot in his territory, his own fucking clan turned on her.

Taevas’s mind was blank with rage when he roared, “You threw her in jail?”

He was barely aware of Artem quickly ushering his mate and child out of the room, or of several people gently but firmly attempting to get him to release one of his oldest friends.

Taevas’s tail rattled with menace, and if his wings hadn’t been firmly strapped in place, he would’ve mantled them in aggression.

Vael’s dark green skin went chalky, but he didn’t flinch. “Of course I did! Her story is insane! She was found wi—”

“Minu tutar, please stop talking. You are making things worse.” A pale, glowing hand came between them and settled on Taevas’s wrist. A jolt of electricity ran down his arm, forcing him to release his grip with a hiss.

“There,” she murmured, pressing on Taevas’s rigid shoulder. “Do not kill my Chosen, cousin. Explain why you are angry.”

No matter how fast he breathed, he couldn’t seem to get enough air.

“That nymph is the reason I’m alive. She sheltered me, fed me, cleaned my wounds, and then drove me hundreds of miles to bring me home.

And you put her in fucking jail!” Jerking his shoulders to dislodge Hele’s hands, he braced himself to throw his legs over the edge. “Tell me where she is now.”

There was a flurry of activity and protest as several people attempted to keep him in bed at once, with only marginal success.

Vael, the biggest dragon standing, grappled with him even as he argued, “Damn it, Taevas! What were we supposed to think? She was covered in your blood! She had the same suppressants in your system! She had no alibi or witnesses! And you were in her fucking car, on Grim’s door!”

“Because she was saving me!” he bellowed. “And what did she get for it? Thrown in fucking jail! Where she’s probably terrified and confused and— If you don’t get her here in the next ten minutes, I’m going to hunt her down myself!”

Using his greater weight to pin Taevas down, Vael grunted, “Fine! We’ll release her! Just stay in the fucking hospital, for fuck’s—”

Hele’s head popped between them, completely heedless of the possible danger of getting between two brawling dragons. Something keen shining in her inky black eyes, she asked, “Why do you want to see the strange woman so badly, cousin?”

Taevas cast her a wide-eyed look of outrage. “Because she’s mine.” He looked around at the slack-jawed faces and, needing there to be absolutely no uncertainty going forward, he informed them, “She’s an A?daja! She’s your Emand!”

Everything went very still. Even Vael, who’d been growling as he struggled to restrain his Isand, seemed to stop breathing. For several seconds, it was as if no one in the room dared move, let alone speak.

It was Taevas’s thundering snarl that broke the spell.

Vael released him abruptly, his skin ashen as he took one long step away from the bed. He didn’t blink or ask for clarification. He simply held Taevas’s wild stare as he lifted a hand to his ear, activating his comm implant.

“Radek,” he breathed, voice hoarse. “Bring the nymph to the hospital. Now.” There was a slight pause, no doubt as Radek asked why and how, but Vael cut him off with the only explanation necessary: “She’s Taevas’s Chosen.”