“Papa, get inside,” he pleaded. “Most of the men are inside and we can bring in the rest. You are needlessly exposing yourself!”
Before Jax could reply, more arrows hit a man near him, a man who was trying to carry a comrade to the keep. Jax rushed to help both of them when the worst happened– a bolt plowed into him, straight into his left shoulder blade in a prime locationin his back. It was such a big bolt that the tip emerged on the left side of his abdomen, poking through the mail. Another barrage came over the wall and Julian threw himself on his father, shield lifted, but he wasn’t in time. Another bolt caught Jax in the top of his right shoulder, burrowing nearly half its length straight down, straight into Jax’s powerful body.
It had all happened so fast. Faster than Julian could comprehend. One moment, his father was well and in the next, he had two massive bolts sticking out of him. But he hadn’t gone down; nay, Jax de Velt was too strong for that. He simply stood there and took it, as if the bolts meant nothing to him.
As if they didn’t mean his very life.
But they meant something to Julian. After a split second of disbelief, he grabbed his father, trying to keep the shield over him but he couldn’t because of the big bolt in Jax’s right shoulder. It kept knocking the shield sideways.
Julian began screaming to the men around him.
“Help me!” he said. “Help me get him inside!”
Jax was in a bad way, but he had hold of a man on the ground with a bolt through his pelvis and he wouldn’t release him. He was still walking, still dragging that man, but he was staggering.
He was weakening.
“Papa,” Julian begged. “Let go of the soldier. Please let go.”
Jax’s face was ashen. All of the color was gone. But still, he wouldn’t release the soldier. “I cannot,” he said stoically. “I must get him to safety.”
Julian was beside himself. “I must getyouto safety,” he said, struggling not to become hysterical. “Papa, drop the man. Someone else will help him. Please let me take you inside.”
Jax ignored him, but he was grunting. An odd grunting sound was coming from him as each step became more and more difficult. More and more taxing. Blood was streaming from the entry and exit wounds and because both lungs hadbeen pierced, he could hardly breathe. He coughed, spraying blood from his mouth. Men were starting to crowd around Jax including Ashton, who had come off the wall when he saw what happened. Between Ashton and Julian, they managed to break Jax’s grip on the man he’d been trying so desperately to drag to safety.
Jax was still walking, but with great difficulty.
Julian had hold of him, guiding his father towards the keep entry. He could hear crying and sobbing, but he didn’t take his eyes off his father. He knew the sound must have been coming from his sisters and even servants who were in the entry, watching the horrific and heartbreaking scene. Step by step, inch by inch, Jax continued to walk towards the keep with every bit of strength he had. He was focused on something straight ahead, something he’d been focused on for more than thirty years.
His wife.
Kellington had come out of the keep and Julian turned to see his mother, her arms outstretched to her husband. She was perfectly calm, perfectly collected, as she put her hands on her husband and directed him inside with her.
“Come along, Jax,” she said steadily. “Come inside and let me help you.”
She acted like there weren’t two enormous bolts sticking out of the man. She was composed and soothing. But Jax had blood and saliva dripping from his mouth, down his chin, his face the color of snow.
“There are men who need help,” he said breathlessly. “I must…”
“Julian will make sure they are collected,” Kellington said, gently cutting him off. “I must take care of you now. You have been wounded and you must come with me.”
Mercifully, he didn’t argue. He went with her. They passed through the keep entry and Jax finally lost his strength. Heplummeted to his knees and Kellington went down with him to help him, but he was such a large man that she couldn’t support his weight as he pitched forward, falling on her. Kellington ended up on her bottom as Jax lay across her awkwardly because of the bolts that were sticking out of him. His head ended up against her breasts as her arms went around him.
“I am sorry,” he said, spraying blood onto her chest. “This is not how I planned my day, Kelli.”
Kellington cradled him as the surgeon, a man who had been with Jax’s army for many years, rushed over to inspect the damage. Kellington managed to wrap her arms tightly around her husband, holding him against her as his blood stained her flesh, knowing that this was the end before the surgeon even told her that Jax would not survive his wounds.
Somehow, she just knew.
“I do not think any of us plan our days perfectly,” she said, gazing down into his pale face. “But you were doing a very brave thing to help your wounded soldiers. I expect nothing less from you.”
Jax tried to clear his throat but there was a good deal of blood clogging it. “They are my men,” he said simply. “They are willing to die for me. I should be willing to die for them.”
The surgeon was moving around her, quickly inspecting entry and exit wounds, but when she noticed the man had stopped, she glanced up at him. All she could see was a grim expression and she knew it was because there was no hope.
He didn’t have to say a word.
She returned her gaze to Jax’s dual-colored eyes, eyes she knew so well.
