Chapter 80
Axel
Gabrielle and I were assigned to a private room at the medical facility in Lighthaven. We had been there for hours, attended to by fae healers cleaning out our wounds, disinfecting open gashes and picking out bits and pieces of stone, bark and sand from Gabby’s back. I held her hand the entire time while, simultaneously, a healer worked on my leg.
The vicious bite Nero had inflicted on me were likely to get infected if left untreated, as was the nature of any animal-imposed wound. Except for the outer puncture holes, he had also ripped precious muscle beneath. I knew because I had felt it tear when he latched on to me. I had felt the damage tore through layers of muscle, tendons and capillaries. The darkened blue and purple colouration around the tender area only acted as confirmation of what I had initially suspected.
I gazed at Gabrielle’s side where four burn marks lay embedded into her skin, instead of three. One of them angry red and swollen. She had used her last wish on something, and I had no idea what it was. Couldn’t even recall feeling the burn of it through our mate-bond.
What the hell had happened out there?
My mind was still racing with various ideas, possibilities and scenarios, when a stretcher came barging in the front doors with a very familiar form strapped on top of it. Multiple people rushed down the hall, buzzing about the stretcher, shouting orders and grabbing supplies from shelves.
Large, muscled fae warriors accompanied the healers, yelling out orders to clear the length of the corridor and allocate the largest room at the end for their patient.
Coyne.
I squeezed Gabby’s hand and stood to investigate the commotion. It didn’t take long to see what all the fuss was about.
Coyne was out cold, looking more pale than usual. The darkness under his skin was nowhere to be seen and his lips had turned an unearthly blue.
Locke followed the group with a very angry looking dark prince towing behind him. The prince was encased in a globe of bright glowing electricity, a makeshift little prison cell, constructed by Locke himself. His proud shoulders were slumped, and he had his hands in his pockets. Defeated. Humiliated.
“What on earth is he doing here?” I asked as Locke halted at our door, peering over my shoulder to where Gabby lay face down on a bed with her scarred back exposed. Pain flickered in his eyes as he gazed at the healer with the tweezers picking out debris from my mate’s once flawless skin.
“Is she alright?” He asked, straining his neck to get a better view. I didn’t move, but instead squared my shoulders in the doorway. A silent refusal of entry. My mate was practically naked, with only her lower half covered with a crisp white sheet. There was no way another male would be entering any time soon.
I gazed back at her over my shoulder and felt relief once again to have her here with me. Safe. Luckily, Pam had stopped by earlier, offering us a numbing tonic to take some of the pain away. Trusting her dear friend, Gabby had accepted it without question, and swallowed the liquid down in two large gulps.
Soon after, the tonic had made her extremely drowsy, resulting in lulling her into a deep slumber, leaving the healers to do their work in peace.
“We were very lucky,” I managed to answer, “she is alive and will recover within a few days.”
It was enough for Locke. He nodded and stepped aside, turning to face the dark prince behind him. “Heir,” he said with a jerk of his chin towards the young man.
My brows furrowed. Down the hall, healers were rushing about, moving Coyne from the stretcher onto a bed.
“What is he doing here?”
Locke shrugged and gestured vaguely to Coyne down the hall, “ask his highness, not me,” he simply said.
I turned to Heir. “Explain.”
His irritated electric blue eyes burned into mine, “I don’t answer to you,” he spat.
“And who do you answer to?”
A quick glance of the prince down the hall told me all I needed to know, although I didn’t understand it. Coyne.
How had the king done it and why?
“Locke?” Pam’s voice rang through the empty hall.
The general’s brown orbs snapped up, searching eagerly for her signature red. Within the blink of an eye, he was at her side, burying his face in her neck. Their arms snaked around each other, and Locke’s dark brown strands of hair fell over Pam’s shoulders as he enveloped her into a tight hug.
Heir scanned them over with a strange look on his face and the corner of his mouth twisted up in a wicked manner. When he saw me watching him, he quickly avoided my gaze.