Radek gave her a curt nod and opened the door. Peering around him, she spied a much larger lounge area than the one she’d been holed up in with Alex and Hele. A glossy bar spanned one side and a huge sunken seating area the other. Across from the entrance was a wall of windows that opened up into what she could only describe as some sort of rooftop patio.
Her eyes were instantly drawn to Taevas, who appeared to be holding court from the comfort of the couch. She recognized a few of the dragons gathered around him, but there were two healers dressed in their elegant gray coats she didn’t know as well.
Her husband’s head whipped in her direction. A luminous grin spread across his gorgeous, perfect face. “My Shiya,” he called, slinging an arm over the back of the couch. “Come here!”
Despite automatically rolling her eyes, she couldn’t suppress a smile when she complained, “Always so bossy.”
The gazes of the people gathered around him bounced between them. Eyebrows lifted when Taevas wiggled his claws at her and teased, “We both know who the boss is here,metsalill,and it’s not me.”
Trying to ignore the scrutiny, Alashiya crossed the floor to step down into the sitting area, drawn to Taevas like a sapling to light. They reached for each other at the same time, their fingers linking as Taevas drew her down to sit beside him. He certainly didn’t seem to care about their audience when he swooped down on her and delivered a quick but passionate kiss.
Flushing to the roots of her hair, she muttered, “Was that really necessary?”
“Very,” he replied, sneaking in another kiss. Chuckling at her obvious embarrassment, he sat back and gestured at the hoveringhealers. “You’re just in time for my check-up — which will hopefully be quick, because we’ve got sovereigns incoming.”
“We’ll do our best, sir,” one of the healers dryly replied.
The dragons began to talk amongst themselves as the healers leaned over to lay their hands on Taevas’s forearms, which were revealed by his rolled up shirtsleeves. Whispering in his ear, Alashiya asked, “Can you remind me of everyone’s names?”
He tilted his chin toward the men, some of whom she recognized from the hospital. Radek had joined them, but he didn’t appear any friendlier with them than he had with her. If anything, he looked even more sour when one of them, a deep blue dragon with a broken horn, clapped him on the shoulder. “This is my Wing. The one next to Radek is Pasha.”
Jerking his chin toward another clump of intimidatingly large dragons engaged in rapid, hushed debate, he told her, “The green one you know. The pale guy is Roman, and the red one with the patterns is Aivar.”
Alashiya tried not to stare at them, but it was hard. Each member of the Wing seemed more intimidating than the last. Vael and Radek were known entities, at least, but Pasha, Roman, and Aivar were different.
Pasha’s broken horn and ear piercings gave him a roguish quality only enhanced by his wild eyes and wide, sharp-toothed grin. Roman was a ghostly white, with deep-set black eyes and high cheekbones. Pale blue tattoos crawled up his neck to cover nearly half of his face and the shaved part of his head, which must have been extremely painful to have done. And then there was Aivar, who would’ve seemed fairly normal if he didn’t appear to be caught between shifting from his day to night color. Velvety black coloring swirled with luminous crimson, giving him a striking marbled effect that made her fingers itch for her needle and thread.
Despite their obvious exhaustion, all the Wing members seemed keyed up and excited, their deep voices rumbling as they debated something in their language. It was good to finally beable to put names to faces, but Alashiya still shied away when they glanced at her, their curiosity obvious.
“So what’s the verdict?”
Her attention was pulled back to Taevas, whose smile had fallen as he addressed the healers. The one apparently in charge, a mature-looking man with dark skin and pretty, cinnamon-brown eyes, let out a slow breath. “It’s hard to say, in all honesty. I believe your ability to shift has been stabilized, which is the good news. We were able to flush the last of the suppressant out of you when you were in the hospital, but it did considerable damage to your nervous system. If we don’t figure out how to fix it, your ability to shift will continue to be unreliable and…”
Taevas’s jaw worked for a moment before he prompted, “And?”
“And your wings won’t recover.” The healer rubbed the back of his neck, a deeply troubled look on his face. Alashiya reached for her husband’s hand and held it tightly when he continued, “There was some intentional damage done to the bases of both wings — electrical, it looks like — which would’ve been easy enough to repair if not for the additional injury caused by the suppressant. I’m not saying there’s no hope, but it’s going to be a long road. I suggest we find a specialist to begin the process immediately.”
A wave of feeling washed through the hyphae. Alashiya’s breath hitched as she brought his hand up to her lips. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles and reached through the hyphae to soothe him there, too. The steady beat of his heart thumped alongside her own when she sought out the gorgeous purple strand and followed it back to the source.
Easy, argaman mlk,she whispered to him.All is well. We’re with you.
His rigid expression softened. Taking a deep breath, he said in a measured voice, “All right. I’m alive. I can live without my wings for a while longer.”
“I’m also concerned about what looks like an aggressivefungal infection,” the other healer, a younger woman with short brown hair and a gold nose ring, interjected. “I’d like to prescribe you some medication that should hopefully take care of it before it settles in and does more damage.”
“Ah—” Alashiya shrunk back a little when the healers turned their shrewd gazes on her. It was her husband’s turn to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think it’s an infection like you’re thinking. It doesn’t need to be cured.”
Both healers’ eyebrows raised. The one with the nose ring, clearly trying to be respectful while still skeptical, asked, “And why do you think that?”
“Because he’s my husband,” she answered, casting a glance at Taevas. “I’m a nymph. When we married, I… Well, he’s in the hyphae.”
The younger healer didn’t appear to understand what she was trying to say, but after a long moment, the older of the pair made a thoughtful sound. Snapping his fingers, he said, “Arbuscular mycorrhizal nymphalia. I’ve never seen it myself, but I remember reading about it in my apprenticeship. Do you mind if I confirm it’s the same infection?”
He held out one smooth hand. Shrugging, she put her hand in his. There was that ticklish warmth again, but it only lasted a moment before he let her go. Giving his partner a nod, the healer said, “Identical. Andfascinating.”He paused, his mind clearly working fast behind those red-brown eyes. “I amveryinterested in the way it interacts with your nervous system, Emand — and what that might mean for the Isand.”
Alashiya blinked. “Well, I don’t really?—”
