Getting stabbed with a katana would do that.
They both dragged chairs over to the side of my bed, and Rafe smacked Jordan's hand out of the way as he reached for mine.
"Prick," Jordan muttered as Rafe claimed my hand and wove our fingers together against the soft blankets. Only the best in the Royal Swiss Hospital, I supposed.
For a moment, the three of us sat there, staring at each other. Well, I was looking between both of them while they had their eyes locked on my face. “What happened?” I asked, my voice still a little raspy.
“You almost fucking died and left me alone with this asshole!”
One would have thought that those words would’ve come from my prickly prince, but it was actually Jordan who’d choked that out.
Rafe leaned closer, his hand clutching mine almost to the point of pain, but I didn’t care. There were so many drugs in my system at that moment he could have broken a finger and I would barely have felt it. “You fight like a fucking dream,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my cheek as he breathed me in. “A torturous dance of speed and grace, I have never seen anyone move like you. Not even Uriel.”
Jordan got closer too, the pair of them all but surrounding me. “Rafe knew what you were about to do, but we were too slow to stop it.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “The longer the fight had gone on, the harder it would have been to beat him. Uriel is trained to fight for hours without tiring. I wouldn’t have had a chance in a long fight, being so out of practice. I saw my shot…”
“You were lucky,” Rafe rumbled. “We haven’t talked to the doctor yet, but the surgery didn’t take as long as they’d expected. So hopefully that means no lasting damage.”
A throat cleared in the doorway, and both princes scowled in that direction. The man in the white coat—the doctor presumably—held both hands up and chuckled. “My name is Dr. Ryan, and I come in peace. No harm befalls my patients in this hospital.”
He zeroed in on Rafe then, and gave a respectful half-bow. “Especially not a friend of the crown prince.”
“Girlfriend,” Rafe snapped back, his diplomacy all but gone.
The heart monitor made a few beeping sounds as my chest went all fluttery, and the doctor hurried forward to check it out before likely realizing it was just my reaction to being all loved up and shit.
“If you two could give me a moment alone with Miss Spencer, I’d like to go over her injuries and surgery,” he said formally, staring at the princes.
Neither of them moved an inch.
Dr. Ryan paled a touch, and considering he was already super fair with golden-blond hair and brown eyes, he looked almost ghostly. Especially against all the bronze goodness of my guys.
“It’s okay,” I said. “They’re my family, and I’m cool with them being here for whatever you need to say.”
He cleared his throat. “I really insist that we speak in private, at least for a few minutes. They can wait right outside the door.”
My head was starting to ache again, my stomach feeling tight and uncomfortable, and I just wanted to be alone with my princes. “Okay, fine.” I turned to look at Jordan first and then Rafe. “Just give me five minutes, guys. Then you can come back and sing me a lullaby.”
My joke fell flat, and I guessed that it had been tense around here while I was in surgery. Rafe grumbled, but he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “We’ll be right outside,” he said, loud enough for the doc to hear. “Just shout.”
Jordan kissed me as well, and then the pair, shooting dark glares at Dr. Ryan, turned and left the room. Meanwhile, I was trying not to feel embarrassed that neither of them had bothered to hide their affection for me in front of Dr. Ryan. Apparently we were just putting our relationship out into the world.
The doctor moved closer until he stood on the right side of my bed. “How are you feeling, Violet?” he asked, seemingly more confident now that he wasn’t being stared down by two tyrannical princes.
I cleared my throat. “Honestly, doc. I feel like shit. My body hurts, my throat is raspy, and everything below this hospital blanket feels like it’s not even connected to me. But I’m alive, right?”
He chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s all normal and to be expected. The stab wound to your lower abdomen was moderately severe; that particular blade appeared to be designed to inflict maximum damage with almost no effort.”
I winced. “Yeah, the katana is a real bitch, but it’s not the weapon’s fault. Trust me, the wielder was definitely the problem in this situation.”
He looked even more uncomfortable, and I wondered if anyone outside of my princes even knew who had stabbed me… or that he was dead. Something to ask them when they returned.
The doctor had continued talking, and I tuned back in to a bunch of medical jargon about the six-hour surgery and…
“Wait, what?” I blurted.
He blinked at me, seemingly stunned by the interruption.
