“It’s nothing,” she told him evasively.
Conall scoffed from his place at the side of her bed. “Nothing my bloody arse. You were shot.”
Onalee turned towards him and glared. Forkan didn’t need to know that! He was overprotective as it was; finding out that she’d been shot would only make matters worse.
Conall ignored her expression. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a defiant look on his face.
When she looked back at the vid screen, Forkan’s shocked face was looking from Conall to her and back again.
“I thought you’d been bruised by someone bumping into you in their haste to escape. You mean to tell me that one of those weapons shot you?” His voice had risen with anger.
“Yes, but I’m alright,” she replied calmly, trying to settle him down.
“Let me see,” Forkan demanded. “Let me see where you were hit.”
Onalee sighed, but knew that her brother wouldn’t relent once he had his mind on something. She pulled back the covers and shifted the edge of the nightgown up her left leg to expose the brace the doctor had encased her thigh in. She refused to look at it, and instead watched Forkan’s reaction.
He took a moment to look at the wound before he turned to Conall. “What did the doctor say?”
A bit of annoyance crept into Onalee. She was an adult, damn it. She didn’t need someone else answering for her. She flipped the blankets back over her lower body.
“He was able to heal the damage, but she has to keep it completely immobile for the next three days—” Conall explained.
“Two days more,” she corrected him.
“—alright, two to three days,” Conall conceded, “so that it can properly heal. He expects that she’ll make a full recovery.”
“I suppose bringing her home is out of the question, then?” Forkan asked.
Conall nodded. “Aye.”
Forkan looked relieved. Onalee wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Thank you for taking such good care of my sister,” Forkan told Conall sincerely. “Do you mind if we have a moment alone?”
Conall looked to her, then at her brother. “No, course not. Call if you need me,” he told Onalee before he left the room, closing the door behind himself.
Forkan sighed, and slumped back into a chair. He was calling her from his office, where he’d probably spent the entire night. He’d clearly showered and changed since the attack, but he looked haggard and tired. Like the rest of us.
“I’m so relieved that you’re okay, Lea,” he told her softly. His next statement held venom. “I can’t believe those bastards dared to harm you.”
“I don’t think they were very discriminating as they fired into the crowd like they did,” she retorted.
He grunted his reply, but she let him be. He should be able to vent his anger and frustration.
“Last night Conall told me that he helped get you off of the ship. Is that true?” he asked.
Onalee nodded. “That’s right—Conall and Brogan both saved me.”
“Who’s Brogan?”
Warning bells tolled in her head, and Onalee knew that she needed to tread lightly.
“He’s a member of the Royal Guard.”
“I see.” Forkan was thoughtful for a moment. “Had you met him prior to last night?”
Met him. Kissed him. Made love to him. Shouted his name in passion…
Onalee made sure to keep her expression neutral. “Yes, he’s been installing a security network in this house, so I’ve met him a couple of times.”
“He saw you get shot?”
She nodded. “Yes. He came over to help Conall and me. He was the one who got us to the emergency shuttle.”
“I suppose that means I’m indebted to him,” Forkan replied with a sigh. “Which royal house does he work for?”
Onalee didn’t want to answer him. She didn’t want any reason for her brother to sink his fingers into the male who’d saved her—the male she had deep feelings for.
“The trio’s,” she reluctantly replied.
She could almost see the wheels in Forkan’s head turning as he sat a little straighter in his chair.
“Make sure to introduce us the next time we’re at the same event,” he instructed. “The more connections we have in that household, the better.”
He sounded so much like his old self that Onalee knew he would be fine. Forkan’s brain always went back to how he could get an “in” with the royal family. He probably looked at Brogan as another angle.
She nodded to pacify him, but hoped that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to introduce the males. The bond that she felt growing between her and Brogan—and between her and Conall for that matter—wasn’t any of Forkan’s business.
She was still annoyed with him for his high-handedness while on the ship, and knew that if he got wind of her attachments to either male, he’d insert himself in front of her and act like an immobile wall… Or, at least he’d try his best to.
An incoming message appeared next to Forkan’s image, and she quickly read it.
“Mum is on her way to your room with breakfast. Sorry. Couldn’t stop her.” –Conall.
“Forkan, I think I’d better let you go. Thank you for checking on me,” Onalee told him politely.
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright? Would you rather rest at home?”
Nope.
She felt her polite smile slide into place. “I’m fine, truly. All I need is a couple days of rest and I’ll be all better.”
“Alright. Is there anything you need? Anything I can have Finch bring you?”
She was tempted to ask for a bag of her things, but didn’t want Forkan or Finch going through her rooms.
“Would you please ask Lena to take care of my aviary while I’m here? She knows what to do.”
Forkan nodded. “I’ll tell her. I’m going to head into Talavera in the next day or so, but contact me if you need anything. I can always have Stigus come get you and bring you home.”
“I will,” Onalee replied. Inwardly she shuddered at the weasel’s name. The last place she wanted to be was in an empty house with that male.
“Goodbye, Forkan.”
“Rest easy, sister-mine.”
The vid screen went blank as a knock sounded from the door.
“Come in!” Onalee called.
Conall opened the door for Clare, who entered carrying a tray laden with food.
“Good morning, lassie!” Clare greeted brightly as she swept into the room. “Conall, move those chairs so Onalee can get out of bed if she needs to.”
“She isn’t supposed to be going anywhere without help,” Conall argued, adding an obstinate look in Onalee’s direction to remind her of that fact. He moved the vid screen back against the far wall.
Clare stopped, turned, and gave him a look. He held up his hands in surrender.
“Doctor’s orders,” he quickly told her. “You heard him last night: she needs to keep the leg immobile for the next three days.”
“Two days,” Onalee corrected him again, more gently this time. She smiled at him, and he smirked.
“Keep that up, and I’ll make it four,” he told her jokingly.
“Oh, now stop that you two,” Clare chided. “She needs to eat and regain her strength, not spend the morning bantering with the likes of you.”
Clare laid the tray over Onalee’s legs, checking to make sure that the tray’s supports kept it up high enough so that it didn’t put pressure on her thigh.
“Conall, you go and shower,” Clare told her son. When he lingered, she gave him a look over her shoulder. “Go on! You’re still wearing the same clothes as last night, and you smell like something burnt.”
“Thanks, Mum,” Conall retorted as he walked out of the room.
Onalee suppressed a giggle, but Clare could see the mirth in her eyes.
“He was a stubborn lad when he was young, and nothing has changed,” she told Onalee, taking a se
at in the adjoining chair. “Now, how are you feeling?”
“Much better,” Onalee told her honestly. “Thank you for letting me stay here, and for taking care of me. I can’t remember the last time I needed so much help. Are you sure I’m not being an imposition?”
Clare waved her off. “Of course not! We always love having you here. Not under these circumstances, mind you, but you being here with us just feels right. Now, stop your worrying and eat up. You need to be strong to heal.”
Onalee looked at the tray ladened with food. There was no way she’d be able to eat all of it herself.
“You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” Onalee told Clare, but she did pick up the tea cup and take a long sip. It helped ease her burning throat.
Clare conveniently ignored the comment. She got up and busied herself around the room.
“Thank you for remembering that this is my favorite,” Onalee told the other woman.
“Of course. Haven’t you ever had someone make you breakfast in bed?” Clare asked, as she smoothed down the comforter and plumped the pillows on the other side of the large bed.
Onalee thought hard, but couldn’t remember. She shook her head.
“I don’t think so,” she replied honestly. “Arathians don’t get sick, and I’ve never been injured. I was always expected to eat breakfast in the proper room.”
“Well, everyone deserves a little tender loving care every so often.”
Tender loving care. That sounded exactly like what she needed.
Onalee looked down at the tray filled with food again, all of it made with the love in this woman’s heart. She fingered the napkin with lace trim. An ache spread outward in her chest, and she felt tears prick her eyes. She hadn’t been mothered since she was a little girl.
The bed dipped at her side, and Clare was there, taking her upper body in a sideways hug.
“There, there, dearie,” Clare cooed. “You’ve had a rough night, but it’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you here.”
Onalee shook her head where it rested on the other woman’s shoulder. “No, it’s not that,” she told her past tears. “I just… this is incredibly special to me.”
Clare pulled back with a confused expression, and handed her a handkerchief that had been in the pocket of her dress.
“What are you going on about?”
Onalee wiped her eyes. “Being in your home. Being cared for. And this…” she waved at the tray in her lap. “No one’s ever done this for me before.”
Clare’s expression softened, and she reached up to stroke back errant strands of Onalee’s hair. “You’re a very special woman, Onalee. We love having you here, as well. If I had it my way, you’d already be a part of this family.”
“Truly?” Onalee asked hopefully.
“Oh, aye.”
Onalee smiled. “Thank you. If it were up to me, I’d stay here as well.”
“You do have a wee bit of control over that, you know,” Clare told her.
Onalee didn’t want to play games with Clare, and pretend like she didn’t understand the woman’s meaning. She decided to be honest, and a little blunt.
“I’m not sure Conall likes me enough to ask me to stay past my recovery,” Onalee admitted to his mother.
“He is a hard man to read,” Clare agreed. “But I can see it in the way he looks at you. Has he really never done anything to make you think he cares for you romantically?”
Besides embracing and kissing her in the observatory? But even as inexperienced as Onalee was, she knew that kissing someone wasn’t a declaration of love.
“We’ve never really talked about it,” Onalee told her.
Clare sighed. “That sounds just like Conall: to keep things bottled up inside until they run over. That man, I don’t know where he gets it from.”
Onalee smiled, her tears having stopped. Clearly Conall didn’t get his reluctance to express himself from his mother.
“Perhaps that’s something Brogan and I can help him with,” Onalee suggested playfully.
Clare paused. “Brogan?”
Onalee touched a finger to the embroidery on the handkerchief in admiration while she answered.
“Yes, well, Brogan and I aren’t officially mated yet, but now that I’ve found him and Conall, hopefully we can all bring out the best in each other.”
Silence met her words.
CHAPTER 17
Warning bells tolled in Onalee’s mind. She looked up to see Clare sitting quietly, clearly contemplating what she’d just heard.
Oh no! What did I say?
“Clare? What’s the matter? Do you not like Brogan?” Onalee asked, concern lacing her tone. What would she do if Clare had a bad opinion of him?
It took Clare a moment more to answer.
“I like him just fine. He’s a good-hearted man, who clearly cares for you.” She cleared her throat. “Does he also care for Conall?”
Onalee nodded, still unsure why Clare’s demeanor had taken such a sudden shift. She’d never seen the woman like this. It was unusual, and unnerving.
Clare let out a deep breath. “Well, I’ll be…”
“Have I said something wrong?” Onalee asked her.
Light returned to Clare’s expression as she took Onalee’s hands in hers and gave her a genuine smile.
“No. That was just a bit of news for me, that’s all. Usually I pick up on things like that, but I’d forgotten that you Arathians have different dynamics in your relationships.”
Onalee didn’t pretend to not know what Clare was talking about here, either, although she had forgotten for a moment that Earthers usually mated in heterosexual pairs, instead of omni-sexual groups, like Arathians.
“Does that upset you?” she asked.
Clare shook her head. “Not at all. It’s just a new concept for me, thinking about people being married to more than one person. I’m sure Conall is wrapping his mind ‘round it as well.”
“I haven’t actually talked to him about it yet,” Onalee admitted.
Clare thought about that for a moment. “Well, Conall has a good head on his shoulders. I’m sure he’ll make the right choice when the time comes.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, goodness! I’ll love and support him no matter what, so don’t you worry about that.”
Onalee sighed in relief. She didn’t want to upset Clare, and it didn’t seem like she had. The woman was right back to her previous spunky mood.
“Now, I’m going to leave you to your breakfast,” Clare commented as she got up.
There was a tentative knock on the door before it slid open. Oliver was on the other side, a plate of food in his hands, and a solemn expression on his face.
“Can I eat in here with you?” he asked Onalee.
She smiled brightly at him and patted the empty side of the bed next to her. “Please do! I’d be happy for the company.”
His face brightened somewhat. He hurried over and hopped up onto the bed too quickly, spilling a few drops of his juice on the comforter.
“Watch it now!” Clare admonished as she mopped it up with another tissue from her pocket. “Onalee doesn’t want juice in her bed, or crumbs for that matter. Be careful.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Oliver answered as he settled his back on the pillows.
Onalee helped him adjust them until he was upright and comfortable, his plate on the bed in front of his crossed legs.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Clare told them, before she gave them a wide smile, then left the room.
Onalee took another sip of her tea, and studied Oliver over the rim of the cup. He had bed-head, and was still dressed in pajamas, but there was something about him that was tired and sad. He definitely wasn’t his normal, jovial, bundle-of-energy self.
“Is there something bothering you?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
Onalee reached over and ran her hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He’d need it cut soo
n.
“Are you worried about what happened last night?”
He shrugged, and her chest tightened. It must have been horrible for him: to hear that his father had been present during a terrorist attack, and to see her come home with a wound.
Onalee set the heavy tray onto the table next to the bed, before reaching out and pulling him closer for a hug. She didn’t give a damn if the movement shifted her thigh. She held him close and kissed the top of his head.
“You were here, right?” she asked against his hair. “You heard the doctor; I’m just fine.”
Oliver pulled back slightly and looked up at her. She saw tears in his eyes that he was determined to not let fall.
“You were shot. I saw it,” he told her unhappily.
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “I was, but I’m okay now.”
He didn’t look consoled. Instead, he sat upright again and fingered the blankets he sat atop.
“Oliver, look at me.”
When Oliver had his eyes on her, she continued.
“Accidents and events like last night—they happen. We can’t live in fear of the unknown. We have to be grateful for each day we have, and live it to the fullest. But I can promise you, I’m absolutely not ready to leave this world yet. There’s so much to live for.”
He didn’t look placated. She lightened her tone.
“For instance, I’d like to see you pass your atomic mass test.” That earned her a slight quirk of his lips. “I’m also looking forward to beating you at your new flight simulator game.”
Finally, he smiled at her. “Yeah right. I’ve been practicing.”
“Well, I’ll just need to get some time practicing in that big gaming chair your father replicated for you. You’re stuck in class for several hours a day… I could be putting that time to some good use.”
He laughed. “No you won’t!”
“How will you know? You’ll be in class.”
His smile was still bright.
“Does that mean you’re going to live here with us from now on?” he asked hopefully, eyes back on the plate in front of him.
Onalee’s heart fell a little. “I’d love to, but it’s not up to just me,” she replied honestly.
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