by Mary Auclair
Lashes. Those are lash marks. Devan was whipped.
Marielle shook her head as her hand drew away from the wounds and she closed her fingers around Devan’s left hand. A pained whine came from his mangled lips and something ripped apart in her chest. Something that had been stretched to a tenuous length since the day she’d left her home for the Delradon liaison office to find herself locked in the dungeon.
It snapped and she knew she would never be whole again. Maybe Fedryc had been right.
She turned pleading eyes to Henron, who looked down at her with a sadness that churned and boiled into despair in her chest, down her stomach and inside the fabric of her very soul. A sound came from his wrist and Henron spoke in Delradon, fast and low, never taking his eyes off her.
“Medics are on their way. They’ll take you out first, then Devan.”
“No.” Marielle blinked, disbelieving. “Devan first. Are you out of your mind?”
“The longer the Draekarra of the High Lord is exposed, the longer Aalstad is vulnerable to those who did this.”
Marielle stared at Henron then slowly, like in a dream, she got to her feet. She didn’t care that he was many times stronger.
“My brother is not dead yet.” Her entire body shook as she spoke. “And you will send him up on that gurney first or I swear to you, you will have to tie me to that thing, kicking and screaming.”
“Fedryc gave orders.” Henron’s voice had lost its warmth, and the cold strength of the Captain of the Guard shone through.
“Then you have a choice.” Her limbs rippled with anticipation as she prepared to do what she’d threatened. Devan didn’t have long, and she was getting him on the gurney if it killed her. “You can obey orders or do what you know is right.”
Henron held her gaze for a long time, then his eyes slid to Devan. “He won’t survive.” Henron’s voice was laden with sadness but also with regret. “It is a mercy if he dies fast.”
“Fuck your mercy!” Marielle’s voice was filled with tears and pain. “I won’t let him! He’s all I have left!”
Henron looked at her again as the medical team called from the top of the well, then he snapped something sharp in Delradon into his commu-link.
“You will have to help me.” He walked to Devan’s side quickly, then looked up at her expectantly. Marielle squatted on the other side of her brother, her eyes on the Captain of the Guard. “He will be in agony when we move him.”
“I know.”
“Fedryc might just kill me for this.” Henron exhaled, then nodded. “On three, you have to lift him like I do. We can’t place him on his back.”
Marielle nodded, then followed Henron’s lead. As they grabbed Devan’s bloody shoulders, fresh blood poured over her hands but she held on.
And Devan screamed as her broken heart shattered into a million pieces.
Marielle stood in the doorway, wringing her hands so hard her fingernails left bloody traces in her palms, on the backs of her hands, everywhere they trailed. Dr. Ylco and a young Delradon nurse worked on Devan like bees, only speaking in monosyllables, frowns on their faces as they cut through stained, stinking clothes to reveal butchered flesh and oozing pus.
Devan lay on his stomach on the steel table, his maimed back exposed to the air, the stench of his unwashed, diseased body filling the aseptic air like a cloud of death. Then, when he lay completely naked, Dr. Ylco asked the nurse for an instrument Marielle had no knowledge of. He hovered just above Devan’s body, then paused.
His crimson eyes met hers, then slid over to Fedryc’s silently forbidding form.
“This will not be pleasant.” Dr. Ylco’s eyes held a dark promise. “I need to cleanse the wounds deeply. I can’t administer a sedative in his state, it’s too dangerous. He could slip too far into darkness to come back.”
Marielle’s throat closed up at the words and a whimper escaped her lips.
“Come.” Fedryc put a hand on her shoulder but removed it when she shrugged it away. “Be reasonable! You need to leave. There is nothing you can do for him now.”
“I’m not leaving his side!” Marielle turned to see Fedryc’s eyes shining with anger. “I left him once, and look where he is now!”
“I indulged you for far too long!” Fedryc’s voice rose. “You’ve disobeyed me enough for a lifetime today!”
“Disobeyed you? You’re mistaking me for one of your subjects.” Marielle saw the signs that Fedryc was losing his grip on his temper—the way the vein at his temple pulsed with a steady beat, the way his pupils elongated to reveal the beast inside—but she didn’t care. Her heart was there, lying on the steel table, about to be ripped open again, and she wasn’t leaving. “I don’t have to obey you.”
“Don’t make me force you out of this room.” His voice had changed, more like a growl than a man’s. “I will carry you back to our apartments if I need to.”
“I obeyed you once before,” Marielle accused him, her pain flooding over, spilling like a flood, devastating everything in its wake. “If I hadn’t, my brother wouldn’t be lying there, fighting for his life. You should have let me go. This is on you.”
Fedryc’s face slackened like strings had snapped and his eyes widened. Guilt and pain mixed in Marielle as she regretted the cruelty of her words. But a small part of her knew they were true. Fedryc had cared too much to let her leave, to allow her to be in danger, and now Devan was paying the price.
And she was just a shell of the woman she had been before descending into that dark, evil hole in the ground.
“Is this really what you think?” His voice, flayed and raw, scalded her like a burning iron. “That I should have let you leave? That my love for you isn’t precious enough?”
Marielle’s ribs shrank and pierced her heart as pain shot through her. Because he was right. She wouldn’t have left, couldn’t have left a long time ago. She was as much a prisoner of her love for Fedryc as she was of the Knat-Kanassis who surrounded her life with hatred and violence.
But her love for Devan ran just as deep and so did the pain that made her cruel.
Her eyes closed as memories spilled over into her mind.
A small boy, hair red as a flame, his face twisted with tears, came running. Marielle sighed, exasperation and affection welling in her wary mind as Devan sat in front of her, his tiny knee exposed, blood running in a thin trickle down his leg.
“Oh, no!” Marielle feigned horror. “This is a serious wound. I think we’ll have to amputate.”
“No!” Devan’s mouth curved up and his gray eyes, shining with tears, filled with humor. “That’s silly. It’s just a scratch!”
“Well, you seem to be in a lot of pain.” Marielle lifted her brows and wiped the tiny cut clean with a rag, then blew on it. It had already stopped bleeding. “Better cut the whole leg off, I say!”
“Stop kidding!” But Devan jumped from his chair and his scrawny arms wrapped around her neck. A noisy kiss landed on her cheek and Marielle pushed him back, gray eyes locking with gray eyes.
“Now, you have to be more careful. I don’t want you running around with Tommen and his friend. They’re up to no good.”
Devan looked down stubbornly. “But they’ll make fun of me if I don’t.”
“Then you send him over to me.” Her voice was deadly serious, and when Devan looked up, there was heartbreaking trust on his young features.
“Okay.”
“Now, go do your homework before I go to work. Then you’ll go straight to bed, and don’t you go out before I come back.”
Devan pouted, but when he turned around and rummaged in the small desk for his meager school supplies—supplies she had bought with entire nights of extra work in the sewing factory—a smile stretched his lips.
And as he sat at the table and bent over his work, concentration plain as day on his face, Marielle knew that everything she did—everything she would still do—was worth it.
Because she wasn’t just Devan’s lifeline. He was hers, too.
“Your love isn’t the only one.” Marielle knew she was hurting him but she said the words anyway. Fedryc had to know. “You don’t understand because you don’t have a family. But Devan’s life is more important than your feelings. More important than keeping me safe. And if you truly loved me, you’d understand that. If you truly loved me, then you’d understand and you would have saved him long before.”
Seconds passed and turned to minutes in a dead silence. Marielle was vaguely aware of Dr. Ylco asking her to leave again but they both ignored him. Silver eyes bored deep into hers and a world of pain stood between them like a wall.
“And I guess you don’t understand that losing you will kill me.” Fedryc spoke with a pain so raw it broke her heart. “That even the idea of you being hurt makes me unable to do my duties as High Lord. That without you, life isn’t worth living. Is that the love you’re talking about?” He didn’t give her time to answer. He turned from her and looked at Dr. Ylco. “Marielle will stay with her brother. Do everything you can.”
Fedryc turned and left, but not before calling four more guards at the door to the medical room. As his stiff back disappeared around the turn of the hallway, Marielle’s hand lifted to call him back. But it was too late.
Behind her, Devan’s screams started anew, and the world was swallowed in misery.
Chapter 22
She hadn’t spoken to Fedryc in two days, and her heart was about to blow open and spill out of her chest. Marielle reached down to her stomach and she clutched the fabric over the soft secret that bloomed there. She wasn’t sure, not yet, but her tide hadn’t come as it was supposed to and she could only hope. Despite all the pain and fear that surrounded her, she clutched that fabric with all the stubbornness she was capable of.
Devan was still unconscious, and there was little Dr. Ylco could tell her apart from that his life was still in danger. There was no telling if he would wake up or take a turn for the worse. The infection that had taken hold in his wounds was vicious, invading his bloodstream in a life-threatening way called sepsis. If they had found Devan even hours later, he would be dead, about that Dr. Ylco had been quite clear.
One other thing that was for certain was that Rela was in love with her brother. She had insisted on sleeping next to Devan and spent every waking minute carefully caring for him, although there was little they could do. Nourishment was sent directly into Devan’s bloodstream from tubes hanging from the ceiling, as well as the nanites that fought the infection cell by cell. Only once that process was complete could Dr. Ylco close the open wounds under the blood-stained bandages that covered Devan’s entire back and face, plus parts of his arms and legs.
He didn’t look like the boy who had run to her with his scraped knees and runny nose. He looked like a lump of flesh crying for mercy.
“He’s waking up.” Rela turned to Marielle as Devan whimpered under the bandages covering his eyes and mouth, leaving only two holes for his nostrils.
Marielle stared as Rela got up from her bed and walked the two steps to Devan, pain twisting her features as she did so. Rela was healing nicely from the merciless beating she had taken, but the road to recovery would be long. Dr. Ylco had done everything he could for her, fixing broken bones and repairing the hemorrhage in her brain, but the pain and bruises would only subside in time.
Dr. Ylco walked quickly to Devan’s side, a medical injection device in his hands. As soon as the clear fluid entered Devan’s bloodstream, the whimpers ceased and Devan fell back into blessed oblivion. Devan’s pain, although still horrible, had been greatly diminished since Dr. Ylco had decided his condition had improved enough to put him under a heavy sedation that bordered on a coma. It was humane but it made Marielle want to scream mindlessly as she was unable to talk to him.
She wasn’t sure she could take what he would have to say, anyway. After what he had been through, she knew Devan would not be the same. He might even be another man altogether. If his mind was still intact.
No. Don’t think that. Never that.
But the thoughts were there, as stubborn as anything, whispering inside her skull, slithering past her defenses like snakes. Because as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that the boy she loved might be broken, gone beyond where she could reach him.
“My Lord.” Dr. Ylco turned, the injection device still in his hand. His face remained calm but Marielle recognized the signs of fear in the man she had come to know in this short time. He wasn’t the cold, uncaring man she had thought at first. He was dedicated in a quiet, efficient way, and his tireless efforts had saved both Rela and Devan’s lives.
Marielle looked around, swiveling on the chair to see Fedryc, standing in the doorway. His appearance blindsided her and she stood up on unsteady feet, her eyes glued to his face. He had aged years in the span of a few days, and his features had hardened. His eyes were underscored with dark circles and his cheeks were hollow. His shoulders were stiff and square as his eyes settled on her. The corner of his mouth moved but his expression remained grim.
“How are your patients?” Fedryc’s tone was cold and his eyes left Marielle to rest once again on Dr. Ylco.
“Rela is doing much better. I expect to release her from my care next week at the latest.” Dr. Ylco walked over to Fedryc, his face closed off and his eyes careful as he glanced at Marielle in passing. He spoke lower when he was closer, but she could still hear him clearly. “The young man is another matter. The infection in the surface wounds is going down rapidly, but the blood infection is still not under control. The next day or so will be critical. He’s either going to improve or get worse. He could go either way.”
Fedryc stared hard at the doctor but his expression held no hostility. There was no need for it. Dr. Ylco had proved his dedication long ago.
“What?” Fedryc frowned as Dr. Ylco stayed in front of him. “Is there something else?”
“If I could talk to you in private, my Lord.” Dr. Ylco shot a glance over his shoulder at Marielle and she blinked, uncomprehending. Her eyes met Fedryc’s and he turned his gaze to the doctor.
“Whatever you have to say, say it in front of Marielle.” Fedryc lifted his chin when Dr. Ylco hesitated, and Marielle frowned.
“The Lady Marielle needs to rest,” Dr. Ylco finally answered. “She cannot keep going the way she is.”
Fedryc frowned, but did not reply.
“She’s on the verge of collapse from exhaustion.” Dr. Ylco’s voice boomed, rising with his own passion. “Lady Marielle hasn’t slept since her brother was brought in. I could barely get her to eat a piece of fruit yesterday before going down to sleep myself. If she goes on like this, she’ll be in one of my beds as a patient by the end of the day.”
Fedryc paused, locking gazes with the doctor for a long time, until the Delradon man shifted his weight from one foot to the other in rapid succession. Then Fedryc looked over the doctor’s head and directly at Marielle. Fedryc walked around the doctor, who watched him as he would a lion, like he was ready to run for his life at the first sight of threat. Not many men could confront the High Lord and live to tell the tale.
“Is this true?” Fedryc stopped in front of her. “You have not slept in two days? You refuse to eat?”
“You don’t look so good yourself.” The words were hard to get out as emotions welled inside her from having him so close. In her fear and exhaustion, she hadn’t realized how hurt she had been by their fight. How much she had longed to rest her head against his hard, warm chest. “Did Nyra come back?”
Fedryc winced with pain and shook his head. “She flew over the castle twice, but didn’t come back when I called.”
The pain of Nyra’s rejection was obvious in Fedryc’s stiff shoulders and pursed lips, and Marielle found her hands twisting in front of her, itching with the need to touch him. She couldn’t stand his pain, that look of hurt in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” It was all her broken voice could say. All her broken heart found. “I’m sorry for everythin
g.”
Fedryc’s stiff shoulders slumped a fraction, so slightly she knew only she could have noticed—and she had. Pain shot into his eyes and she found herself crushed against a hard, hot chest. Tears leaked out of her eyes and Marielle wrapped her arms around Fedryc’s waist as hard as she could. Like her life depended on it, because it did.
“Little firebrand.” His hand pushed her hair tenderly away from her face and he bent down, kissing the tears from her cheeks, taking his time to run his lips over her pain, wiping it clean. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do.” New tears ran down on her face and Marielle let them. It was like a dam had broken and her pain took a liquid turn. “I blamed you, I hurt you when you needed me to support you. I should have been there for you.”
“You were there.” His lips again, on her closed eyes, on her cheeks, her forehead. Tender and light, but so warm it put a balm on her raw soul. “You never left my side. You are the strongest woman I know, and I am the luckiest man on Earth and Dagmar to have found you.”
Marielle exhaled shakily. She couldn’t believe it. This man, this beautiful, strong man was forgiving her for the horrible things she had said to him while he’d been at his most vulnerable. She would never fail him again.
“I love you.” The words were simple but she felt them in her center, in that tiny core of herself that had held on to hope despite all her years of hardship.
“I know.” He chuckled and Marielle opened her eyes, pulling her face away. He was looking down at her like she was perfect. Like she wasn’t the mess she felt inside. “But even though I would give my life for you, you need a good night’s sleep. And a shower. Maybe two showers.”
Marielle chuckled and it was as if a dark, heavy blanket had lifted from her body. Her worry was still there, that fear for the ones she loved that ripped at her heart, but with Fedryc there, she dared. She dared to hope that everything would be all right. That her life wouldn’t end in gut-wrenching agony.
