CHAPTER THREE
Worry twists inside my body like thorny vines as I follow the Unseelie King to the room where Draven and the other dragon shifters are sleeping after being healed by Haldia. Orion said that they were wounded severely while buying Grey time to open the portal. My own memories of that chaotic battle are all messed up due to Kander’s magic, so I don’t know how bad it was.
My heart beats hard in my chest as we draw closer to the door, and I have to flex my hand repeatedly to try to keep my mind on track. That intense worry for Draven is mingling with the now overwhelming grief from watching my parents die several hundred times over the past twelve hours and the crushing regret that I will never know if they loved me. Seeing them look at me with resentment right before they died several hundred times has turned that regret into poison that now seeps through my veins all the time.
As Orion and I walk along the pale stone corridor, I desperately cast my gaze around in search of someone that I can use my magic on. But only rich blue carpets and beautiful paintings of northern lights stare back at me. Flexing my handagain, I try to swallow down the desperate need for relief that using my magic would give me.
“I said, get out of my way!” Draven’s voice booms from the room at the end of the corridor. “I need to see her.”
“I know, but that healer girl also said to take it easy,” Alistair replies. “And you were dripping blood all over the damn floor when we carried you in here.”
My heart clenches.
“Sounds like they’re awake,” Orion comments as we close the final distance to the door. “Though I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me.” He slides me a look from the corner of his eye. “It took me longer to break you than I thought.”
“I’m healed now,” Draven growls back at Alistair. “Azaroth’s flame?—”
“Ryat,” Isera interrupts. “She’s with Orion. He’s trying to help her.”
“The…extentof what I did to you stays between us,” Orion tells me in a low voice as we reach the door. “Agreed?”
I nod. “Agreed.”
“And you trust him?” Draven replies to Isera. “After he found out that you lied to him, he?—”
Orion yanks the door open and saunters inside. “Well, speak of the handsome king and he shall appear.”
Everyone whirls towards the door. They’re all there. Galen is sitting up in a bed by the window. His blond hair is mussed and his violet eyes are filled with worry as he glances between Draven and the door. In the bed opposite his, Lyra is halfway to her feet, looking groggy but otherwise unharmed.
There are two more beds in the room. One is occupied by Diana Artemesia, the leader of the Purple Dragon Clan. The other is currently empty, the rumpled sheets hanging halfway to the floor as if they were thrown off in a hurry.
Isera is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, andAlistair is standing in front of the final person close to that empty bed. My eyes go straight to that person.
Draven.
The agony of watching him be tortured and seeing him look at me with pure hatred in an endless loop for over twelve hours hits me all over again when I see him standing there. A choked sob rips from my chest, and I dart around Orion as I sprint into the room and crash straight into Draven’s chest.
He wraps his arms around me tightly, even as the force of my body makes him stagger back and sit down on the bed again. I curl up in his lap, pressing myself tighter into his embrace, and hug him so hard that any other person would have winced.
Draven just strokes my hair and murmurs, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
My heart breaks all over again, and tears flow down my cheeks, making his soft black shirt wet. Pressing myself harder against him, I cry into his chest. Because I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay. But I can’t tell him that.
While holding me protectively, Draven raises his head and demands, “What the fuck did you do to her? If you hurt her, I will fucking kill you.”
“Interesting threat from someone who has spent the past month or so doing nothing but hurt her,” Orion snipes back. “Have you forgotten all the cruel things you said and did to her these past few weeks?”
Draven flinches.
Snapping my head up, I lock hard eyes on Orion. “Don’t you dare imply that he did any of that willingly. My magic forcibly changed his entire personality. Can you even imagine what it was like for him? He was forced to be unbelievably cruel to his own fated mate while deep down his soul was screaming in pain at what he was doing, but he also couldn’t stop because my magic was forcing him to continue doing it even though it was tearinghim apart from the inside.” My eyes are serious as I hold Orion’s gaze. “It was as awful for him as it was for me.”
Orion opens his mouth, but he seems to understand, because he just slowly closes it again and tilts his head in a small nod of acknowledgement.
“And you,” I continue, looking up at Draven. “Please don’t threaten Orion. All he did was to help me.”
Hesitation blows across Draven’s features, and he lowers his voice as he asks, “Then why are you crying?”
“I was just so worried about you.” Resting my cheek against his chest, I listen to the steady beat of his heart while hating myself for lying to him. But I can’t tell him the true extent of what Orion did to me. For all of our sakes. “Orion said that you got seriously hurt. And I was just so worried.”
