In this moment, on the edge of insanity, I reflect on the enormity of my declaration. It could be viewed as an act of rebellion and disrespect, a direct challenge to the protocols and the chain of command.Or, it might be interpreted as a show of strength, a future leader taking ownership of what he’s been entrusted with.
There’s a fine line between insubordination and initiative.
“You have passed your Trial, recruit,” Kent finally says. “By dagger’s kiss, allegiance sworn.”
“In shadows deep, our oaths are borne,” the other leaders answer, their voices a low hum.
I bow my head, not only to show respect, but to hide the relief that has to be all over my face. When I meet Kent’s gaze once more, I’m in control of myself.
“Votum meum tibi,?1” I say, not meaning a fucking word. The last time I spoke that vow it was to piss off my father, but right now I’d say anything to keep the leaders from suspecting how much my little raptor means to me.
Kent nods, his body losing some of its tautness. “Votum tuum receptum est.?2”
It takes every ounce of discipline I have not to run to Delilah. I walk with an even stride until I’m on the platform kneeling beside her. My hands, normally steady and secure, tremble as I grab the fallen blade, still covered in her blood.
My bride blinks several times as if waking up. Her eyes are glazed with pain and an emotion I don’t want to acknowledge.
“Don’t move,” I say.
“Last time you said that, it didn’t work out so well for me.”
The snark in her voice, although weaker than a few minutes ago, still makes me want to smile. “Hold on, little raptor,” I whisper, not wanting the leaders to hear me.
The sight of Delilah pale and vulnerable spreads fear through every inch of my body. I take a deep breath to steady my hands and cut a strip from her dress to bandage the wound that’s still bleeding too much for comfort.
Balancing speed and efficiency, I wrap the cloth around her waist, tying it off with enough pressure to stem the blood flow. Each second feels like an eternity. Her hisses of pain cut me deeper than any blade.
With as much gentleness as I can, I lift her into my arms. She groans and stiffens in my embrace, becoming more rigid when I walk down the small set of stairs. My steps across the rooftop are measured and controlled, but as soon as we’re out of sight, I break into a sprint toward the medical ward.
Delilah’s breaths, shallow and uneven, skim my neck and ignite my adrenaline until I’m shaking again. Each tiny puff of air is a whispered plea, a mantra to save her life. I can’t fail her.
The halls of the castle blur past me until I spot the on-site physician lingering inside the waiting room. Another member of the Kent family, a crow who earned his wings six years ago. His forehead creases when I walk past him and set Delilah on one of the examination tables.
“She’s been stabbed,” I say. I meet his gaze, my voice resolute. “If she dies, you die.”
The doctor doesn’t flinch at my threat. His eyes narrow with scrutiny before he moves toward Delilah. Unlike mine, his hands are steady as he begins to assess her condition, his focus entirely on my girl.
“I need you to step back,” he says. His voice is authoritative and calm, and there’s a confidence in his demeanor that eases some of the panic in my chest. When I comply, he removes the bandage from her stomach. His movements are methodical and his examination swift. “She’s lost a fair amount of blood, but the blade missed her vital organs. I need to stop the bleeding and close the wound immediately.”
“Whatever it takes,” I say.
“I was informing you, not asking you.” Dr. Kent shifts his attention from me to the assistant who appears in the doorway. “Prepare her for surgery.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man says.
I fold my arms. “How long will it take?”
Dr. Kent meets my stare with one of his own. “As long as it takes, recruit. Listen, this isn’t the first time I’ve stitched up a stab wound. She’ll be fine.”
I give him a curt nod. One of the hardest lessons in life is learning when someone is more skilled than you. Right now, this doctor can help Delilah in a way that I can’t. Although I struggleto let him take her away, wanting to inflict violence on anyone who touches her, this is the only way to save her life.
Chapter 2
XAVIER
Dr. Kent holds my world in his hands.
I pace back and forth, the cold stone floor of the waiting room a reflection of my demeanor. The physician’s assurance echoes in my mind, but images of Delilah fainting on the platform, her body still and lifeless, gnaw at my psyche like a pack of rabid dogs, ripping away my ability to think rationally.
