Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I still have to be on the special diet?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to be off it. We’re restricting things because we want to give you the best possible quality of life. Now, I’m going to get orthopedics in here to work on those braces and since I’m willing to do that for you, will you allow me to do some additional tests?”

  Rafferty’s smile was wry. “There aren’t enough results in there for you?”

  “There was extensive testing done when you first arrived at the hospital, but once your many abdominal surgeries were completed, the scans were stopped. Dr. Odocoileus didn’t find further studies medically necessary. I prefer an aggressive approach, and I want to know what’s going on everywhere. I’d also like to give you a better idea of how much time you have left, okay? Right now, it’s difficult to say, though I want you to be prepared that it might be shorter than we both think.”

  To Rafferty’s surprise, tears threatened, and he was in no shape to hold them in. The day he’d made it out of the cave, he truly hadn’t escaped anything. There was no return, and he was barely aware that he’d nodded.

  Standing, she patted his hand. “I know this is a lot, and I’m sorry. I’ll be back later to update you and answer any questions you have.”

  “Thanks,” he managed, and she left him to his sorrow. For ten months, he’d held on to the hope that all he had to do was get through the next day and it was one step closer to being with Aleksander again. The truth was, he likely wasn’t going to see him because he might not even get out of a hospital. In the end, he’d fought and gathered strength he didn’t know he had, and his father and brother were still going to get their wish. His only revenge would be that they personally wouldn’t get to light his damn pyre.

  Emotions pelted Rafferty, and heartbreak mixed with fury as he considered his future. Rafferty held on to the rage and dried the tears from his badly scarred face with his palms. This wasn’t how he’d planned, and while the doctors had their tests and their prognosis, no one had believed it was possible to survive losing their beast, but he had. So what if he was missing some organs? And so what if he had scars? Rafferty wasn’t dead, and all he had to do was stay focused on getting the hell out of his bed. Pushing aside the dire predictions, Rafferty vowed that he would not lose his resolve yet.

  Perhaps the tests Dr. Suricata did would show that he was doing better, or perhaps her human doctor friend would be able to give better insight to help him. From the start, Rafferty hadn’t fully trusted the deer who’d fought with him and forced him to keep Mortis tranquilized for five damn months. For five additional ones, Rafferty had put up with his asshole family finding new and inventive ways to hurt him. There had to be more courage to find, and if Aleksander found out that he was so easily willing to throw in the towel, surely he’d think less of him.

  Rafferty wrapped his arms over his chest. Those kinds of thoughts no longer helped him. Once believing Aleksander would not be left with a mate so mangled and that Rafferty would be healed, it turned out to be a fantasy. The mirror Rafferty had demanded in Nashville had done him no favors, and there wasn’t much of him that wasn’t covered with scars—not to mention the gray curls mixed in with black or the wrinkles that were accumulating as the weeks drifted by. But none of that compared to the damage inside him, so he needed to deal with the stark reality of his situation.

  His soul was matched by Fate to Aleksander’s, and Rafferty believed strongly in not only her but that she’d gotten it exactly right for them. However, in this life, they would not be together again. Aleksander had no choice but to wait for him to be rebirthed, and Rafferty hoped that version number two of him wasn’t stupid enough to spend centuries being fed lies by sadistic men who masqueraded as family. As the tears slid from his eyes yet again while he continued to hug himself, Rafferty hoped Aleksander would remember him in some corner of his mind. More importantly, he asked Fate to bring him back swiftly, so he and Aleksander could rush headlong into a love that fueled them both.

  Chapter 28

  “How do those new braces feel?” Dr. Suricata asked, walking in with her human consultant, Doctor Brady Park.

  A week ago, Rafferty had received a pair of braces that went from his foot up to his knee. They’d been handcrafted and built with a combination of hardened basilisk hide, dragonskin, and enchanted metal. “They feel great,” Rafferty replied.

  “That’s wonderful. I can’t believe how fast you’ve gotten yourself into that wheelchair,” Dr. Suricata responded.

  “I wanted that catheter out, and I did physical therapy in Nashville. Dr. Odocoileus just wouldn’t let me try anything outside of being in bed.”

  “Mean,” Mortis said. Rafferty smiled at the wolf and ruffled the fur on his head. There might not be much going right in his life, but at least he had a friend.

  “Are you ready to try the walker tomorrow?” Dr. Suricata asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Do you mind if we have a seat?”

  “Go ahead,” Rafferty replied. When their faces grew solemn, he was sure he was about to be handed more bad news. Sitting there, he petted Mortis while he waited for whatever blow was next. The last ten and a half months were nothing but a series of devasting events, and the one thing Rafferty had succumbed to was the death of any hope for himself. It hurt too much to wish for the impossible, so he’d shut that part of his brain off. Aleksander was unattainable and when he’d accepted that, it was as if a part of his soul had withered away. That did not mean he was surrendering his fight. The years he had left would be purposeful, and he was going to work hard to get some control of his life. It would just be accomplished without the light that had fueled him.

  Dr. Suricata and Dr. Park both grabbed chairs and dragged them over to where Rafferty sat in his wheelchair. Once they were facing him, Dr. Suricata offered him a small smile. “I want to commend you on your courage and ability to work hard. It’s very rare to find a patient with your kind of determination.”

  “I agree. When I first saw your file, I wondered how you could even be alive,” Dr. Park added.

  His face burning with their praise, Rafferty ducked his head. “Thanks.”

  “I promised you when you arrived that we would only have honesty between us. I want to make sure that you want the raw truth no matter the circumstances.”

  “Dr. Suricata, I don’t like mystery.”

  “Okay, well…as you know, we’ve spent the last fourteen days doing a battery of tests. You know I found some troubling things on a few, which is why I added more just a few days ago, including biopsies. We’ve finally got the results and have a clear picture of your state of health.”

  “It’s not good, is it?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Dermot, you have cancer, and it’s everywhere. It started in your pancreas and has metastasized both locally to the surrounding blood vessels, liver, stomach, and distantly to your lungs. That, coupled with the damage to all your organs that you already sustained, means you’re not a candidate for surgery.”

  “Normally, patients would start palliative chemotherapy, but the issue for you is that you’re neither dragon nor human. We have no idea how to accurately determine the correct dosage of the drugs. That means we either play it safe, and do it at low levels that might do nothing to lengthen your life but add a host of what might be uncomfortable side effects. Or we go for broke and quite possibly kill you outright.”

  Rafferty was so stunned, he couldn’t quite process the news. Convinced he would at least have a few years to make what he survived meaningful, Rafferty hadn’t offered any details on what happened to him, but he didn’t intend to hide forever. Determined to be strong enough to get out of the hospital, his plan had been to go from there. “So…I can’t be treated?”

  “There are some human drugs we can try that will promote healing. It would be stronger than what we prescribed for your hips, and that may help. But the reality is, your diagnosis is very grim,” Dr
. Park said.

  “How soon before I die?” Rafferty managed. Unable to even cry, he sat in his wheelchair so proud of what he’d accomplished, and it was for nothing.

  “At best, you might get three to six months,” Dr. Suricata answered softly. “And I’ll be honest, that’s optimistic given your overall state of health.”

  “It’s going to be important moving forward that you’re open with us about new symptoms and that you give us a clear idea of how much pain you’re in. We can’t treat you if you keep things to yourself. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that it hurts and the one thing you shouldn’t do is force yourself to suffer needlessly,” Dr. Park added.

  “I already take a mountain of pills.”

  “You’ve been skipping some of your pain medications,” Dr. Suricata argued.

  “They make the fatigue worse.”

  “Your body needs rest because it’s doing its best to cope with everything that’s going on inside you. Pay attention to what signals you get and obey them,” Dr. Park retorted.

  “Do you have any questions for us, Dermot?” Dr. Suricata asked.

  Rafferty shook his head and shrugged simultaneously. With no idea what to think or how to handle his imminent demise and the solace of the man he loved denied to him by his loss of hope, he simply sat there stupidly. Out of nowhere a surge of rage swept through him, and he knew that the one thing he would not do was surrender without taking down the men who’d destroyed him and his dreams. “Can you call the Reverent Knights and ask them to meet with me?”

  “Of course, they’re good friends and you’ll need a support system,” Dr. Suricata responded.

  While Rafferty liked both men, his thoughts weren’t leaning toward commiserating about his diagnosis. What he wanted was justice.

  ∞∞∞

  When the Reverent Knights discovered that Rafferty was finally ready to talk about what happened, they told him that they wanted to bring the Lich Sentinel and the Arch Lich to the hospital to handle the interview. It was unclear whether they thought he needed moral support or if they wanted a sentinel present to make sure he didn’t try to lie to them. Either way, it was fine with Rafferty, and he was sad to say he’d delayed them for nearly a week.

  It took him time to deal with his diagnosis, and he’d channeled his emotions into physical therapy. While it might not be pretty, Rafferty was managing steps on his walker. From the moment he first woke from his coma, the men striding into his hospital room had tried to give him things, as well as Their Majesties.

  Managing to keep them relegated to toiletries and some clothing, now that he was dying, he happily accepted the laptop and phone. The way Rafferty saw it, the electronics were simply on loan, and could be passed on to someone else once his pyre was ablaze. Since he was finally up and around, he was making good use of the jeans, shirts, and combat boots. Rafferty tried it with sneakers, but the braces made it too uncomfortable. It was nice that he had pants that fit appropriately and most of the stuff was dark, like the dragon that had deserted him.

  The moment the computer had arrived, Rafferty had connected to the hospital Wi-Fi and searched for Aleksander. There was no news from D’Vaire, and he wasn’t surprised—the High King preferred home and family to making a splash, which Rafferty found commendable. Of course, the man who used to be his best friend and still held his heart had pictures around the web and Rafferty had stared at them for hours.

  It had broken him, and he’d cried for what might have been. For a split second, he’d considered using the phone to dial the number he had memorized so long ago, but what could he offer but an apology? I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I trusted my fucking family. I’m sorry I spent so many centuries treating my dragon cruelly, which made him leave at the first chance he got. I’m sorry I didn’t escape sooner. I’m sorry I’m going to die. I’m sorry I fucking failed you.

  “How are you feeling?” Conley asked, taking a seat next to Drystan.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Lie,” Mortis said.

  Rafferty scowled at the wolf and swore he smiled back at him.

  “I hear you’re walking,” Chander remarked.

  “Yeah, I got all the way down the hallway today. It’s making the wounds on my hips bleed, but that’s what bandages are for, I guess.”

  “Are you comfortable in your wheelchair, or did you want to get into bed before we talk?”

  “I’m good in the chair.”

  “Where do you want to start, Dermot?” Drystan asked.

  “Let’s start with who I am. I used to live in Court Kestle; then my father and brothers kidnapped me from my bed and took me to a mine. I spent five months there. I was starved, beaten, burned, whipped, and they got creative. That’s why I have a weird assortment of scars on my body.”

  “What’s your real name?” Alaric asked.

  “Rafe.” No longer would he be Rafferty; he’d be the man Molly made him, not the one his father had tortured. “About eleven months ago, my name was Duke Rafferty Kestledraconis. My father is King Charlton, and my brothers are Dukes Sullivan, Nollan, and Neil. Though the twins helped drive me to wherever the mine is, I never saw them again. Only the other two sick fucks hurt me after that.”

  “Where’s the mine?”

  “I don’t know. I guess Kentucky, since that’s where I wound up in the hospital. I was blindfolded and a hood was over my head, so I don’t know where they drove to. When they starved me enough that I could get out of my manacles, I managed to escape. I guess you know what happened from there or at least what information the humans were willing to give you.”

  “They haven’t given us much, and I’m going to guess if we waltz in and confront your father, he’s not going to simply confess.”

  Rafferty shook his head. “Nope. It’s not the first time they’ve done this. I grew up with a woman called Molly who is Seneschal Duke-mate Kendrick D’Vairedraconis’s mother. They confessed that they killed her and were pissed that they didn’t get to torture her because he kept asking questions about his missing mom. They got off on hurting me. I’d guess that they’ve done this before. Looking back, there were certainly people that just disappeared. I was living on a fucking cloud or something, because I never connected the dots.”

  “They victimized you, Rafe. None of what happened is your fault nor should you take any guilt for clues you are convincing yourself that you missed. Nothing could’ve prevented this tragedy other than the men at fault not going forth with their plans,” Conley said.

  “Have you contacted anyone in your family since your escape?” Drystan asked.

  “No. Not at Court Kestle and I didn’t talk to Kendrick either. Not that I would call him, I hardly know him, and I have no idea who I can trust.”

  “Kendrick’s your brother too, right?” Chander inquired.

  “Yeah, I’ve even visited him at D’Vaire. It’s nice,” Rafferty responded, mentally rolling his eyes at his penchant for using that word. It conveyed nothing of the true grandeur of the people and the place. There was no way he’d reveal his connection to Aleksander now or ever. When his soul was rebirthed, they’d be together but their relationship in this life was done.

  For another hour, they went over some of the finer details of what Rafferty remembered about his trip to the mine, and he gave some insight into what his experience there was, but they questioned him gently, which he appreciated. They weren’t things he’d ever want to talk about, but he knew it was important to get it out so they could move forward with his case.

  “I did a search,” Conley confessed, staring at his phone. “No one has reported you missing.”

  “Considering the shit shape I was in, they probably think I’m lying dead in a ditch.”

  “You weren’t close to Kendrick?”

  “No.”

  “So it wouldn’t be unusual for him not to hear from you? No one at D’Vaire is missing you?”

  “I have never texted or called Kendrick in my life.” Rafferty had
to be careful not to lie since he, at least, hoped at some point Aleksander had missed him. However, he told himself that by now the High King had found a way to move on and find some happiness.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to ask Alaric to send some sentinels to Court Kestle and snoop around. See if they can find any trace of your presence there or if there’s anything else nefarious going on still. We’re going to have move cautiously. If we let them in on the investigation too early, we’ll be forced to charge them without any evidence and it’ll get tossed out, leaving us without justice,” Drystan stated. “We’ll keep you posted on how things proceed.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to go in and arrest them on just my word.”

  “I hear you’re being moved to hospice,” Conley commented quietly.

  “No point in wasting a hospital bed on a dying guy,” Rafferty said.

  “You know you have a relative at D’Vaire. Have you considered applying for sanctuary? There’s no reason you couldn’t be comfortable there,” Drystan suggested. “You might even be able to build a relationship with Kendrick.”

  Rafferty shrugged. “What’s the point? I’ve only got weeks or months left.” But the concept of going to the one place that had brought him peace and the added benefit of seeing Aleksander one last time was tantalizing.

  “The mansion there was required to accommodate people with special needs, including those that are wheelchair bound.”

  “I guess I could think about it.”

  “Hey, the application is right online. Just don’t use your real name until you get there. If you move forward, send me a text. We’ll talk to the High King and the Grand Warlock. That way we can tell them what we can about your situation, and then when we get you accepted, we’ll go in together and explain things. But we will have to keep secrets. At this point, the fact that titled dragons are the culprits should be kept under wraps. We’re going to talk to Their Majesties and fill them in, so they can offer what resources they can as well,” Conley said.