Page 68 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

Chapter Forty-Six

A fierce kiss was pressed to the side of her head. “My Shiya,” Taevas breathed. “What’s happened to you?”

A bubble of laughter escaped her. Pulling back enough to get a good look at his face, she cupped his cheeks and breathed, “Nothing. Nothing happened to me. I’m fine. I’m so, so fine.”

Taevas didn’t share her elation. If anything, he looked even more alarmed than before. Gently peeling her right hand from his cheek, he took a long look at the scabbed wound and streaks of flaking blood on her arm. His gaze stayed there for a heartbeat before he took in the rest of her.

Without taking his eyes off her face, he snapped, “Call a healer. Now.”

Someone jumped into action immediately, sending a ripple of activity around the room, but Alashiya didn’t bother looking to see what was going on. She didn’t care about anyone else. She didn’t even think about them. Reunited with her husband, her fear had withered into nothing.

“I’m really fine,” she assured him, unable to stop smiling.

Taevas tenderly brushed matted curls away from her cheeks and forehead with the backs of his claws. “You’re absolutely not, but you will be. When was the last time you had something to eat?”

Alashiya had to think hard. “When we had breakfast at the house, I think? I don’t know how long ago that was.”

A burst of hushed conversation happened behind her. Taevas glanced over her head and explained, “She’s a nymph. They eat more than we do. Tell them to bring a vegetarian meal — and for fuck’s sake, someone get her clean clothes.”

Cringing a little, she dared to take a peek at the dragons as they all began talking over one another. One of them, a gorgeous purple woman with short dark hair and skin that glittered with flecks of gold, put up her hands. “All right, all right! I’ll get the clothes,” she announced.

Backing out of the room, she muttered, “Don’t know why I’m the one being forced to miss the show. I didn’t throw her in jail. Blame the big green idiot for that one.”

An older woman with similar features followed her out. “I’ll get her meal sorted and make sure Alex doesn’t come back with something ridiculous.” She shot a small, nervous smile Alashiya’s way. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? We’ll take care of everything.”

It was lucky that the older dragon didn’t seem to expect a response. Alashiya had no idea what to say to her or any of them.

Taevas distracted her from the awkwardness by firmly rearranging their positions. He collapsed one side of the bed’s railing with an impatient push, allowing him to pull her onto the bed.

“Ah! No, Taevas, I’m dirty,” she protested, cringing at the thought of soiling the perfect whiteness of the hospital sheets. “I can stand until—”

Taevas clicked his tongue at her but otherwise didn’t bother arguing. He simply grabbed her by the waist and put her exactly where he wanted her, which happened to be tucked under his arm and firmly nestled into his side.

A knock on the door stalled more protests, and before Alashiya could process what was happening, a healer in an elegant gray coat with an open hand emblazoned on the chest was checking her over.

Taevas watched with a deep frown. “Have you healed a nymph before?”

“No,” the healer answered, calm in the face of the Isand’s hawkish scrutiny. “But I’m familiar with their unique anatomy and the theory, sir.”

“I want a specialist,” Taevas insisted. “Tell my team to find one. I want a dedicated healer for her who understands her needs.”

Embarrassed, Alashiya muttered, “I really don’t need that. I’m sure he can do it just fine.”

“Of course he can. And that works for now, but you deserve the best in the long term, metsalill. Not just fine.”

The healer met her apologetic gaze with a smile and a small shake of his head.

It’d been a long time since she’d seen one, but Alashiya was immediately put at ease when he gently took her hand and began his inspection.

His magic was warm and a little ticklish but not uncomfortable as he confirmed what she already knew — that she was over-tired and in need of some food but otherwise perfectly healthy.

“You need fluids, a good meal, and a lot of sleep,” he explained, gently lifting her bloody hand between them. “I’ll fix this cut right up and you’ll be good to go.”

Alashiya stiffened. She didn’t dare look anywhere but at her lap, afraid that if she met the gazes of anyone in the room, they’d see the guilt in her eyes. There was nothing wrong with healing her marriage cut, but having everyone’s attention on it reminded her of what she’d done.

Desperately hoping no one would ask how she’d gotten the cut before she got the chance to talk to Taevas privately, she ducked her head and waited for the healer to finish his work.

After what felt like a very long time, he made a soft sound. Taking several small, cool wipes, he began to clean the blood. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get the scar to heal. The Isand may be right about you needing a specialist.”

Taevas tensed. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Everyone in the room except for Alashiya and the healer seemed to hold their breath.

Shaking his head, the healer calmly informed him, “It’s fully healed, Isand.

I just can’t seem to get the cells to refresh on the skin’s surface, which means there’s a small scar.

I think it’s related to the symbiotic mycelium in her tissue, but I can’t be sure without more research.

” Turning to Alashiya, he asked, “Is that normal for you?”

“Yes,” she answered, trying very hard to sound normal. “Don’t worry about it.”

She couldn’t explain that the scar wasn’t a scar but a visible branch of the hyphae, which would soon link up with the others on her body, creating a dense network of silver lines up and down her right arm.

It was how all nymphs would know she was married, and something she never thought she’d be privileged enough to have.

It was lucky that no one seemed to know anything about nymphs. Both the healer and Taevas took her response at face value, though the healer looked a tiny bit disgruntled that his work wasn’t completed to his satisfaction.

After turning down the offer of an IV, Alashiya let out a quiet sigh of relief and leaned into Taevas. The room got very quiet as the healer excused himself. She wasn’t an expert in dragon body language, but Alashiya got the feeling that no one really knew what to do with themselves.

The only person who seemed comfortable was Hele, who she spied standing in the corner of the room with Vael. His expression was something close to pain.

When Alashiya made eye contact with Hele, the elemental offered her a wide smile and a wave.

“Hello, strange woman,” she chirped. “I knew I was right about you.”

Taevas huffed. “In what way?”

Hele drifted closer. She’d been nude last time they saw each other, but now she wore a loose, flowy dress in dark green.

For as different as she was, she seemed to be right at home amongst all the dragons.

“I told my mate that the nymph was telling the truth. I said you’d be angry when you woke up, but everyone thought you were going to die, so they didn’t listen to me. ”

“You didn’t think I was going to die?”

“No,” she answered immediately. “You’re too stubborn.”

Alashiya avoided Taevas’s playful glare as she laughed into her hand, but all the humor in her faded quickly when Vael came forward. She wasn’t afraid of him, exactly, but she wasn’t comfortable with the man who’d accused her of hurting Taevas, either.

He’d been terrifying to her then. He was a little terrifying now, even when he looked at her with an apology grooved into every line of his face.

She continued to be afraid of him right up until he sank to his knees before her. The room went completely silent. His massive wings stretched out and flattened, the inner membrane facing the floor as he braced his claws on his knees and bowed his head.

She balked, overwhelmed by the sight of such a powerful figure knelt before her, apparently unbothered by the many solemn eyes that watched him.

“I apologize, Alashiya,” Vael rasped. He didn’t look her in the eye.

Instead, he kept his gaze level with her shoulders, as if he didn’t dare lift his eyes to meet hers.

“I should’ve listened to you and to my mate.

I didn’t, and because of that, I mistreated the woman who saved my Isand’s life. Please forgive me.”

Alashiya leaned over to gently touch the powerful dragon’s shoulder, nudging him to rise to his feet. He was her husband’s best friend and his stalwart protector who’d spent several sleepless weeks scouring the UTA for him. She couldn’t be angry at him no matter how she’d been treated.

“You were scared because you love him. I love him, too. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for all of you this whole time. So of course I forgive you, Vael.”

Taevas nudged her cheek, urging her to look up at him. Speaking in a whispersoft voice, he asked, “You love me?”

A sharp pain struck her. He doesn’t remember my vow.

Of course he didn’t. Because their wedding was secret and necessary and when he was on the brink of death, totally oblivious to how she intended to tie them together.

Cupping his cheek with her scarred hand, she ignored all the curious people in the room to murmur, “Yes, argaman mlk. I love you. I’d do anything for you.”

Taevas closed his eyes and let out a slow, measured breath. Grabbing her hand, he pressed a reverent kiss to her scar. “I know,” he whispered into her skin. “I love you, my queen.”

She sniffled, fingers curling against his jaw. I hope you feel the same way after I tell you. Gods, I hope I didn’t ruin this.

Pulling her hand back just enough to frown at her scar, he asked, “Will you tell me what happened?”

She’d told the abridged story so many times now that it came out automatically.

“After I got you in the car, you passed out. I drove as far as I could, but when it looked like you weren’t breathing, I pulled over.

That’s when Hele found me. She called Vael, and then…

then we all went through an m-gate and ended up here. ”

She did her best to tamp down the swell of panic that rose in her at the memory of how close she’d come to losing him. “Are you all right? You look better, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. I was so worried that I’d messed up and you’d—”

Taevas pinched her chin between his forefinger and thumb. In his sternest, most Isand voice, he firmly informed her, “You did nothing wrong, my Shiya. You were brave. Braver than anyone I’ve ever met. If you hadn’t ignored my orders, I’d be dead right now. I owe you my life. Again.”

Keeping his eyes on her but speaking to the room, he explained, “When I knew there would likely be an attack, I told her to hide in the woods. Instead of listening to me, she came back around, stole the attackers’ SUV, and ran over two of them. Didn’t you, my warrior queen?”

Warrior queen? Alashiya’s ears got hot. “I ran over Monty. I only bumped Sergei. You were too close.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Taevas’s eyes gleamed with a vicious sort of pride. “You ran over Monty, but you got out and shot Sergei.”

A murmur went around the room. She squirmed uncomfortably, taken off guard by the sudden shift to admiration. She didn’t feel any pleasure in the violence she’d participated in. There was nothing inherently virtuous about it.

But she was proud that she’d protected her husband, if nothing else. And in a secret, shadowy part of her, she was maybe even a little glad that she’d finally gotten some payback on a bully.

An older dragon to her left cleared his throat. It took a moment for her tired mind to recognize him as Constantin, Taevas’s uncle and the man who’d been in charge of the Draakonriik in his absence.

He offered her a small fanged smile. “I had no idea nymphs were warriors. You could teach our soldiers a thing or two about resourcefulness, vennatütar.”

“Ah, I’m really not,” she protested. “I don’t like violence.”

“And you’ll never be put in a situation like that again,” Taevas assured her.

Lowering her voice, she asked him, “What happens now?”

“You’ll eat and rest a little, then we’ll go home.”

She blinked. Surely he didn’t mean Birchdale. “Home?”

“Our roost,” he clarified.

Constantin made a sound of objection deep in his throat. “You nearly died, Taevas, and your wings need care. You should stay at least another night in the hospital. We can escort her to your roost, or she could stay with us until you’re strong enough to be discharged.”

Taevas shook his head. “No. I can recover just as well in my roost as I can here. I want to go home, and Shiya needs to be somewhere safe where she can decompress.”

The thought of being separated from him made her feel sick all over again, but Alashiya wasn’t about to put her fear over his recovery. “You should stay,” she whispered. “You were so sick, and your wings have caused you so much pain. I don’t want you to rush your recovery because of me.”

She could feel the gazes of everyone in the room bouncing back and forth between her and Taevas. Nothing about their interaction seemed remarkable to her, but she got the sense that it was some great spectacle to the clan.

Taevas stroked her matted curls and clicked his tongue. “This isn’t Birchdale, metsalill. Healers can come to our roost at a moment’s notice. We’ll both be more comfortable there.”

Alashiya wanted to argue more, but she couldn’t shake the discomfort of being observed. She didn’t know how to act in front of his clan. It was one thing to argue with him when they were alone in her home, but here…

In the hospital room, in front of these people, in the Draakonriik — Taevas wasn’t just Taevas. He was Isand.

Avoiding his gaze, she muttered, “If you’re sure.”

Taevas pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Speaking into her hair, he breathed, “About finally taking you home? Absolutely.”