Properly chastised for suggesting that Aleksander would only be interested in the physical shell, Rafe’s mouth twisted. “Sorry, I made you sound vain, which is stupid considering—”
“If you say anything regarding your looks, I’m going to find a way to punish you. Maybe I’ll eat rosemary potatoes right in front of you.”
“Those are my favorite.”
“I know. I remember. And I’d have them with pumpernickel bread and a grilled steak.”
“What did I ever see in you?”
Aleksander laughed. “You tell me.”
“I’m not in a good enough mood to fill your head with compliments, but I do like your haircut. Tell me something.”
“Let’s not talk about hair. I can’t even deal with how much I love those curls, and what do you want to know?”
Rafe’s smile was both reluctant and unavoidable at Aleksander’s praise. “What did you think when I wouldn’t answer your texts?”
“At first, I had no idea how to react, but then when you told me that you needed space, I had to honor that. Was that right after you got hurt or before?”
Rafe had never sent Aleksander a text like that, but he guessed it was Sullivan—or maybe it was his father—who’d told his mate that. Grabbing his walker, Rafe pulled himself out of the chaise and promised himself he’d use his wheelchair for the rest of the day. Tiring faster, he wondered how fast the cancer was growing inside him. There was no way to answer Aleksander without giving away who was responsible so Rafe simply said, “I should get back to work.”
Chapter 36
Aleksander was perplexed by Rafe, and he had to admit he liked the idea of unraveling the puzzle of his mate. Sick of seeing him in pain, he wanted to insist that he not push himself until he was nearly falling asleep at his desk, but Rafe was stubborn. While he could admire his tenacity, Aleksander also wanted Rafe to give in to the demands of his body. Those thoughts he kept to himself. Rafe was proud, and while Aleksander would have once professed that he knew him well, there were secrets between them. It might’ve been nice to have a name of the person or people that had hurt him, but that wasn’t what disturbed Aleksander the most.
What separated them was Rafe’s need to shield himself from engaging in any real conversation. Sitting in their office, he pretended he wasn’t listening while refusing to interact with anyone. Aleksander was frustrated that he held himself away from everyone and everything, including the idea that he could be healed in any way. They had a few opportunities to be alone since Aleksander now went with Rafe as often as possible when he took Mortis outside. The wolf was fun company, and it amused him to no end when Rafe spoke to him.
Whenever the topic of their future together came up, Rafe would change the subject. If that didn’t work, he would simply walk or wheel himself away. Aleksander could not understand why he refused to even discuss his health, and he was acutely aware that there was a limit to the time they had to find a resolution. Not that his sorcerer friends were wasting a minute of it, and as Aleksander strode into the Sorcery D’Vaire boardroom, he wondered again how to get Rafe to consider the possibilities.
“Am I the last one here?” Aleksander asked, getting comfortable in his chair.
“Yep,” Dra’Kaedan responded. “But that’s okay. I know you were outside with Rafe and Mortis.”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon, and he’s already wiped but Mortis and I had to gang up on him to get him to go take a nap.”
Saura shook her head. “I can see the pain and fatigue on his face. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone push themselves so hard.”
“It’s both courageous and frustrating,” Aleksander remarked. “Let’s discuss why we’re here. What’s the consensus on what we can do for him?”
“As you know, we didn’t think the simulators would be helpful, but we’ve managed to put together at least a basis for testing. We’re using a drakeling model who is intolerant and while it’s not identical to Rafe, it at least helps us look at the differences between how light and dark affect the body at a cellular level. What we’ve discovered is that our hypothesis was correct. People react vastly different to the two forms of sorcery. Dark healing isn’t absorbed at the same amount, which means it goes slower but what isn’t used dissipates faster. It’s ideal for someone who has a reaction to light,” T’Eirick explained.
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t side effects, but they are less pronounced,” Vadimas added. “Because the tissues in Rafe’s case continued to expand from the little we’ve learned, we think it would be prudent to surround him with Cwylld stones immediately after we use a great deal of magic on him. It will leech out what is in his system and prevent him from experiencing such severe swelling.”
“Yeah, if we could isolate a room and line it with copper to protect everyone outside the space, we can sit him in there for days if necessary. We’ll need to work with hospital officials on that since this would have to be done with a medical team. He’s not in good enough shape for us to take this on alone,” Saura stated.
“And he’ll need traditional medicines since we can’t add any potions or druidic-enhanced herbs. But we can get our hands on ones that aren’t magically enhanced to be used in conjunction with what doctors can prescribe him,” Killian commented.
“Best case scenario would be if you were willing to consider cementing your matebond,” Severin remarked. “Not only are you a dragon but the largest and one of the most powerful born. That would be a boon for him.”
“Yeah, I mean, when we’ve used your dragon in the past for simulations, we’ve had to discount the data since your beast is off the charts,” Delaney said.
“I’m not opposed to that, but I’m not sure if I can convince Rafe it’s in his best interests. To this point, he’s unwilling to even discuss the idea of healing, let alone tying us together for eternity,” Aleksander lamented.
Dra’Kaedan’s jaw flexed. “Look, Bigfoot, you know I love you, but we simply don’t have the luxury of time. We can’t even focus on a starting point without knowing exactly what state of health he’s in. Somehow, we’ve got to get Rafe to allow us access to his records or to his doctor, so he or she can give us a rundown or point us in a certain direction. We can sit here every week and go over simulation data or whatever but if we do nothing but discuss it, we’re going to lose him. Aleksander, you’ll have to sit in our mansion waiting for his spirit to be returned to you, and we have no idea how long that’s going to take.”
“Unless he’d prefer being resurrected to being healed,” Chander pointed out. “We can do that too, but that’s the harder route, and I’d prefer it if we stuck to healing. Neither one of you needs the pain of what might amount to an agonizing death followed by lighting his pyre.”
“Yeah, I’d like to avoid that. I know he doesn’t want to be pinned down about this, but you guys are right. It’s a discussion we need to have and one that can no longer wait.”
∞∞∞
“You’ve got that look on your face,” Rafe pointed out. On the deck in his wheelchair, he’d been corralled into taking a nap that had lasted until dinnertime. Now the sun was slowly disappearing as he enjoyed the heat soaking into his aching bones while Aleksander sat pensively next to him.
“I want to talk to you, but I need you to give me the chance to get it all out before you escape into the house.”
“It’s the healing thing again, isn’t it?”
“Would you please just talk to me about it?”
Rafe closed his eyes. “Why can’t you let it go?”
“Think about what you’re asking me to do. You want me to tell you it’s okay to let you die. I’m never going to be satisfied with that. I want the opportunity to spend my life with you.”
“I was wrong to come back here.”
“Stop saying that. This is your home. D’Vaire is where you belong. You’re a High King.”
“I wish I’d been strong enough to stay away, so neither one of us had to be put i
n a position where we were at odds with one another. That was never my intention.”
“Rafe, I know that and I’m glad you’re here. Tell me why you are completely opposed to the idea of healing. I can assure you these sorcerers never give up. They push boundaries with every project and accept nothing less than success.”
“You know, I lost a lot of things since I was here. But do you know what the hardest and most painful moment was?”
“No, babe…tell me.”
“Losing hope,” Rafe confessed. Lifting his lashes, he stared off in the distance, not really seeing a damn thing, but he wasn’t brave enough to give his attention to Aleksander. “What helped me survive the impossible was my hope. I knew that if I made it through, I would be healed and be able to start my life over. Then I found out I was magic intolerant, and my dreams were shattered. I can’t go through that again.”
Aleksander grabbed Rafe’s hand and his fingers traced the scars that littered his skin. “You have nothing to be afraid of. We have two choices. Either we seal our matebond, giving Sorcery D’Vaire the luxury of time to figure out exactly the best route to take, or we let them work with what they can and heal you slowly.”
“I can’t allow you to tie your life to mine. What if they can’t fix me? It would be binding you to me like this for eternity. I don’t want to be stuck with this fucked-up body. I’m not going to do that to either one of us…especially not you. You deserve so much better.”
“We deserve better than this. It’s not you and me. It’s us, and we damn well deserve forever.”
The longing in Aleksander’s voice devastated Rafe. What he simply couldn’t understand was why Aleksander was willing to settle for what little Rafe could offer him. A tear escaped as it hit him how stupid he was for returning to D’Vaire. Glancing up at Aleksander’s face, eternity had never been enough to give him what was in his heart. Being reminded again of what had been robbed of them both was crushing and all Rafe had left was a broken shell. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, pulling his hand away and wheeling into the house. As fast as he could, he rolled back to his room without another word to anyone and as soon as he was alone, he allowed a torrent of weeping to sweep his emaciated frame.
Crying not only for what was lost but for how excruciating it was to keep telling Aleksander no, Rafe crumbled. Since the moment he’d learned of Sorcery D’Vaire, he’d done his homework. Their known exploits were incredible, and a voice in his head was suddenly wondering, What if? But Rafe shut it down, although the question of whether he could deny Aleksander the chance of him being fixed so he didn’t have to light his pyre and be in agony crept in.
For more than six hundred years, Aleksander had put up with bullshit rumors about what kind of person he was and his differences. Somehow, he’d never allowed it to steal his innate positivity. Instead, Rafe’s mate sought only to help people, including him. There was no way Aleksander was simply going to accept that Rafe had to die. And until he did, this issue would continue to break them and destroy whatever threads of friendship they were trying to rebuild. Rafe’s very presence at D’Vaire was the one thing that would strip them both of any sweet memories or longing for each other. That had never factored into his thinking when he’d yearned for a last chance to see Aleksander.
Once again, he’d lacked good judgment, and it was ripping him apart. This time instead of being chained to a wall and tortured, it was his spirit and soul at risk. And he couldn’t even deny that he deserved it. The Council believed strongly that mates came first, and yet it was Rafe who’d walked away from the life he wanted simply to please his father. What kind of person did that make him? One willing to keep Aleksander at bay because he couldn’t come to terms with his sexuality or perhaps due to his need to feel important within Court Kestle. Rafe no longer understood what had prevented him from staying at D’Vaire and doubted he ever would. Not proud of that decision, it was impossible to believe that Aleksander didn’t blame him along with the rest of the residents of his court. It went against the very fabric of their beliefs, and Rafe was ashamed of himself.
“Rafe too upset. Need calm.”
“Why didn’t I know I loved him?” Rafe managed with sobs wracking his frail frame. “I don’t understand why I ruined everything and left him. Why did I do that?”
Mortis walked over and laid his head in Rafe’s lap. “Breathing not good. Need calm.”
All Rafe could do was pet his wolf with a trembling hand and try to get his emotions under control since he was nearly hyperventilating while he chastised himself for the path he chose and what they’d both lost because of it. Knowing that he was already doomed and an asshole, Rafe had no choice left but to shatter Aleksander’s hope too. If Sorcery D’Vaire knew what they were truly facing, they’d finally see the futility of the situation. In the morning, Rafe would call Dr. Suricata and have her meet with them. He hated to do that to Aleksander, but the High King wasn’t going to let the issue go otherwise. Dammit, Aleksander, I’m sorry I have to hurt you yet again.
Chapter 37
“You doing okay?” Rafe asked Aleksander. The High King sat in the chair next to him at the giant conference table in the hospital. His mate was dressed in a suit, though he’d forgone a tie, and the dark navy of his shirt brought out the unusual coloring of his eyes and hair. Rafe doubted there was anyone ever born as beautiful as Aleksander was both inside and out.
Aleksander leaned close as the people who made up Sorcery D’Vaire and the Reverent Knights found seats. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t be?”
“You don’t like to leave the house.”
“Dra’Kaedan teleported us to the hospital. All I had to do was walk down a hall. I’m fine. How are you?”
Rafe was swamped with nerves, and he wondered how long it would take the people in the room to realize the futility of the situation. It was impossible to say how Aleksander was going to react when he had no choice but to accept that Rafe was a lost cause. When Dr. Suricata and the human doctor that had helped with Rafe’s treatment walked in full of apologies for their tardiness, Rafe was glad that he didn’t get the chance to answer Aleksander’s question. Beyond being overwhelmed, Rafe had no idea how he was feeling.
Conley introduced Dr. Suricata and Dr. Park to everyone as the room quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to remind you that everything we discuss in this room is not only Rafe’s personal records but part of an ongoing investigation. Nothing and I mean nothing about anything we reveal can leave this room, is that understood?”
There was a chorus of affirmative responses; then Dr. Suricata smiled brightly. “First, I want to congratulate Dermot—I mean Rafe—and His Highness on your matebond. That’s wonderful and has great implications for what we might be able to accomplish.”
“We are not sealing our matebond,” Rafe stated unequivocally.
“It’s not off the table,” Aleksander countered.
“I’m not letting you tie yourself to me for the sake of my health.”
“You damn well know it has more to do with than just your health. What we aren’t going to do is pretend we don’t have feelings for each other.”
Rafe met Aleksander’s annoyed gaze and tried not to notice everyone staring at him. “I know, Sander, but I’m a mess.”
Aleksander grabbed Rafe’s hand and got close enough to him that their foreheads were nearly touching. “That doesn’t matter to me. That’s not how caring for someone works.”
“Can we just get this over with?” Rafe asked Dr. Suricata, wilting under the intensity of the emotions on Aleksander’s face.
“Absolutely. As I’m sure you may be aware, I was not Rafe’s original physician. He was first admitted to at least two different human hospitals. Perhaps the RKs can get into the specifics of his early treatment?”
“Based on Rafe’s accounts, and what the doctors were able to piece together from his initial injuries, he was kidnapped and taken to a secluded place where he was confined for five months. During that
time, he sustained many injuries, including burns and wounds from chains, whips, strips of dragonskin, and other instruments of torture. I apologize for the graphicness of these photos, but these were the initial ones taken at the hospital,” Drystan stated and used a projector to fill the room with pictures Rafe himself could barely identify as a person.
“The photos are actually worse than I remember him looking,” Chander confided while Drystan flipped through the different angles of his mutilated body.
“Without your quick thinking to tie Mortis’s soul to his, Rafe would not be with us now,” Dr. Suricata told him.
“These were taken after the druids healed him?” Killian asked.
“Yes, the emergency room physician was more focused on healing Rafe than how he sustained the injuries, so the fallen knights weren’t contacted until after that. These are just before he was taken to the operating room. It was the first of many surgeries the first few days in the hospital, which were perilous given his state of malnutrition, dehydration, numerous pervasive infections, and overall poor condition. As you know by now, the swelling was exacerbated by the druids’ choice to consume wizard potions. That is not a practice we’ve ever used here in Las Vegas. It led to Rafe’s tissues losing so much of their blood supply, they became necrotic. He lost part of his colon, a portion of his liver that has mostly grown back, a kidney, his gallbladder, spleen, appendix, part of the stomach, and a portion of his right lung. Nothing else could be addressed until they got him stable.”
“Whoever his human consultant was, from the records I can see there were few drugs given to reduce inflammation. I understand things like this are rare in shifters but surely a good physician would have suggested even something as standard as a steroid to help his body,” Dr. Park stated. “If Rafe were human like my patients, I doubt he would’ve survived. He was given baseline antibiotics for the numerous infections when he should’ve been treated with the best medicine has to offer.”
Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19) Page 26
