Serafina stormed in, her cheeks flushed from cold and fury. “Get out,” she ordered the guard.
He didn’t budge. “Master Shaw said she wasn’t to be left alone.”
“Does it look like she’s alone?” Serafina snapped. “And I don’t give adamnwhat Jaxon wants—this ismyclinic and if she’s here she’smypatient.”
“He gave me a direct order?—”
“I don’t care,” Serafina said, her voice deadly. “Wait outside. And I don’t mean outside this room—get out of my clinic, or so help me, I’ll drag you into the street myself andyoucan explain to Jaxon that she didn’t get the care she so desperately needs because you were busy arguing with me.”
His jaw flexed, and for a moment, Araya thought he might refuse. But Serafinastared him down, her green eyes blazing as she crossed her arms and set her feet, making it clear she would do nothing until she got her way.
“It’s your head if anything happens,” he said finally.
The moment the door slammed behind him, Serafina dropped to her knees beside the cot. Her cool fingers cradled Araya’s wrist, taking her pulse before gently brushing her hair back from the cut on her head.
“Araya,” she said, her voice wavering. “Look at me. Was he the one who did this?”
Serafina wasn’t talking about the guard. Araya forced her eyes open, her vision still unfocused, her body too weak to do much more than nod.
“Gods.” Serafina’s expression cracked. She stood, turning to the hovering apprentice. “Bring warm water. Compresses. Get me the tonic for magic depletion—the concentrated one.” A pause. “Yes I’m sure. And bring the numbing salve too.”
Footsteps hurried out of the room.
Araya tried to focus on Serafina, struggling against the pull of exhaustion. She had so many questions—and this might be her only chance to ask. She needed to know why she kept finding herself in Loren’s dreams, why he was so insistent that she stay away from him. But she couldn’t make her mouth move, her tongue too heavy to form the words she needed as the room blurred around her.
“Araya—” Serafina leaned forward, her brow furrowing. “I need you to stay awake?—”
But Araya was already slipping under, Loren’s name the last thing echoing through her mind.
Araya woketo the sharp scent of herbs and antiseptic, her mouth dry and her head pounding. But at least she could think again. Her fingers twitched against the rough sheets, brushing against something solidand warm—Serafina’s hand. Her friend sat beside her, silent and still. A deep furrow lined her brow, worry etched into every tense muscle of her face as she cradled Araya’s hand in hers, staring at nothing.
Araya swallowed past the tightness in her throat, embarrassment warring with gratitude. She hated being seen like this—but even at her worst, Serafina had always cared for her. Had sat beside her and held her hand, even when they’d barely known each other.
Araya squeezed her fingers gently.
Serafina startled, her lips parting as relief flooded her face. “How do you feel?”
Araya licked her cracked lips. “Terrible.”
Serafina huffed softly, but her face—always so composed and calm—was still tight with worry. “I need you to tell me what happened.”
“There’s not much to tell.” Araya said, her voice raw. “I questioned him—he slammed me into a desk.”
Serafina’s breath hitched. Her grip on Araya’s hand turned vice-like before she forced it to loosen again, her nostrils flaring. But when she spoke, it was with the familiar edge of clinical detachment she used with all of her patients.
“You had a concussion. A sprained wrist—numerous contusions.” But her clipped, professional tone wavered, her mask cracking as she asked, “Are you hurt anywhere…else?”
“No—” Araya shook her head, wincing as the movement pulled at stitches they must have put in while she slept. “He didn’t. He siphoned my magic and left right after—I don’t think he came back to the apartment until he woke me up this morning. Then he had the guard bring me straight here.”
“He siphoned your magic and then left you to sleep all night unsupervised with a head injury?” Serafina’s lips thinned as she lost the fight to keep her expression neutral. “You don’t have enough aether left to blow out a candle—he could have killed you.”
Araya looked down, unable to hold Serafina’s gaze. “I know.”
Serafina exhaledslowly. For a moment, neither of them said anything.
“I treated the physical injuries,” she said at last. “But there’s no quick cure for being drained that completely. You’re going to struggle—mind and body. But I can’t keep you sedated with the head injury—it’s too dangerous.”
“Is that what you’re doing to Loren? Sedating him?”
