Vulnerable.
Easy prey.
Keir sets the bag down and takes out a chicken leg, waving it at me like he’s trying to distract a child. When my eyes start tracking themovement, he hands it to me, and I calm down a little. The warm, crispy skin against my fingers grounds me in the present.
“The doctors said it was a clean break.” Corvis starts, and I can see the pain behind his silver eyes, the worry lines etched around his mouth.
“They also said you’d make a full recovery.” Hemlocke adds next with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before leaning in to kiss me again.
“That’s good news.” I glance down for a moment before taking a bite of the chicken. The salt and grease coat my tongue, and my stomach growls in response. “Can you get my parents and the doctors?” I look at Corvis and Hemlocke, putting meaning behind the request. I want to talk to Keir alone.
“Of course. I’ll head to your parents, and Hemlocke will get the doctor.” Corvis gets it, thankfully. They both leave, and suddenly the room feels smaller, more intimate.
“What do you need me to do?” Keir pulls up a chair to sit next to the bed, his movements careful and controlled.
“Don’t ever change.” I smile as I reach into the bag and offer him a chicken thigh. “Now eat. I don’t like eating alone—I get self-conscious.” I make an excuse to get him to eat. His stomach growls, telling me he probably hasn’t taken time to feed himself in the two days I’ve been unconscious.
“I’m sorry about leaving you the drow head and the hairbrush.” He won’t make eye contact with me while he talks, his storm-gray eyes fixed on the floor.
“You killed the male that tried to kill me. Then you bought me something pretty to make me happy. I see that now.” I wipe my hands with the napkin, then reach out to touch Keir. “Thank you for everything. Everything could have ended up so much worse if you weren’t there.” I cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble there, staring deep into stormy eyes that finally meet mine.
“Can we not talk about the bad stuff? I already have anger control issues when it comes to you.” He suppresses a growl, and I watch sand-colored fur race down his arms like water, rippling beneath his skin.
My eyes drop to watch the transformation on his arms, and I smile. “My dragoness is always close to the surface.” A giggle escapes my lips despite everything. “I’ll tell you a little secret.” I lean in the best I can without hurting myself, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m always angry.” Reaching out, I grab Keir by the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin, and pull him to me. Before he knows what’s happening, I kiss him.
He tastes like the darkest night and bad decisions yet to be made. Like danger and protection wrapped into one. But the most important part is he tastes like mine. Purring rumbles up from my chest as I pull back slowly, breaking the kiss and allowing him to catch his breath just before the doctors and my family arrive. Keir still looks shaken and surprised in the best way, his pupils dilated and his breathing uneven, just as I straighten up for the doctors.
“How are you feeling, Princess?” Tom, the oldest doctor, asks me. I watch Keir’s eyes widen hearing me called Princess, see the moment he processes what that means about who I am.
“Sore, but that’s to be expected, all things considered.” I look back over my shoulder at my heavily bandaged wing, trying not to let the fear show. “What do we need to do to me today?” I tilt my head this way and that, waiting for one of them to say what they’re afraid to say.
“If you would allow us, we want to get you into one of the hot springs and take a look at the wing better. If the wing appears to be doing well, we can do a fiberglass cast that will be lighter and less restrictive.” My eyes move over to my father, looking to him for his thoughts. He knows wings better than anyone else.
“What does the fiberglass cast entail? How will you protect the leatherof her wing?” My dad comes and sits on the bed next to me, the mattress dipping under his weight, looking up at the doctor with me.
“We’re suggesting taking her into the hot springs. The mineral water is wonderful for accelerating healing.” The doctor draws in a deep breath, and I can smell the anxiety on him—sharp and acrid. “We remove the old bandages and field braces to inspect the wing. If everything is working how it should, the bone should have started mending already.” He looks from my dad to me, then over at Abraxis. He’s the same doctor that put Abraxis back together after his wing was almost severed from his body.
“What happens next?” I take hold of my dad’s hand, his skin rough against my palm, then grab Keir’s since he’s closest to me. His hand is warm, calloused, steady.
“As long as there are no open wounds, we’ll place some under-cast padding, then leather. The last step is to apply the fiberglass that will harden to support the bone while it mends.” There’s a waver in his voice that I can hear, uncertainty he’s trying to hide.
“We’re still going to restrict wing movement even with the cast in place.” I stare into Corvis’s eyes as I say it, making sure he understands what I’m not saying out loud. I will be defenseless, unable to shift or fly to protect myself. If someone is hunting me, I won’t be able to escape.
Mom picks up on what I’m not saying. She pulls Klauth and Abraxis aside, whispering urgently. They nod, their expressions going hard and dangerous. “Let’s get this over with, okay.” I stand and waver on my feet, the world tilting sideways. Keir catches me immediately, getting me between him and Corvis. Their bodies bracket mine, solid and protective.
Mom walks over and takes me from the boys. “Let’s get you into a swimsuit while you’re in the water with an audience.” I nod, letting my mom take me from my mates. Her hands are gentle but firm as she guides me toward the adjoining bathroom.
I hate that I’m so weak and forced to be this defenseless. The vulnerability crawls over my skin like insects. If I were the one hunting me, now would be the time to strike.
Now, when I can’t fight back.
Now, when I can’t fly away.
Now, when I’m trapped and broken and easy to take.
The thought follows me like a shadow as Mom helps me change, her presence the only thing keeping the panic at bay.
When Momand I make it to the hot springs, the air hits me first—thick with mineral-rich steam that smells like sulfur and earth. I find Hemlocke sitting on the stone stairs in the water, and my breath catches. “You hate the water.” My voice is barely above a whisper, rough with emotion.
