“I hate the idea of you being in pain more.” He says and opens his arms wide, water streaming from his skin. “Your mom is going to help you in the water, then I’m going to hold you while they change your bandages.”
No sooner am I at the water’s edge than Mom helps guide me down the slick stone steps. The heat envelops my feet first—almost too hot—then climbs up my legs as I descend. Mom maneuvers me carefully onto Hemlocke’s lap so I’m facing him, my injured wing positioned away from his body. The water supports the weight of the bandages, and for a moment the relief is so intense I could cry.
“Let him bear your weight. Wrap your arms around his neck and relax in his arms. Your other mates will help me help the doctors examineand bandage you.” Mom’s voice is gentle, soothing, like when I was a hatchling with scraped knees.
She knew I’d be frightened. A loud splash sounds from behind me, sending waves that rock against my back, and then I feel my dad’s massive hand on my good wing—warm and steady. “I’m right here, baby girl. You are not defenseless.” Thauglor says, and I smile despite the fear coiling in my stomach. Dad knows me so well. Knows that being unable to protect myself is worse than the pain.
I lay my head down on Hemlocke’s shoulder when they reach for the bandages. His skin is warm despite his hatred of water, his heartbeat steady against my ear. Turning my head away, I try to brace myself. But when they start unwrapping, I scream. Just them touching it hurts—a white-hot agony that shoots from wing tip to my spine.
“Mom, get Bella. I’d rather sleep through this...” I try to fight the tears, but they roll down my cheeks anyway, mixing with the mineral water.
Within seconds, Ziggy appears with Bella, and she looks devastated. Her usual confident posture is gone, replaced by slumped shoulders and eyes that glisten with unshed tears. “Please don’t ask me to do it, Raven...” Her bottom lip quivers as she looks at me. The spunky, defiant sister I know and love is replaced by the loving older sister who doesn’t want to hurt me.
“It hurts too much, Bells. Please... I won’t be able to sit still for them to work on my wing.” She looks from me to my wing—and I see her flinch at whatever she sees there—then back again.
“Okay. I’m sorry.” Bella’s voice cracks as she shifts into her dragonic displacer beast. The transformation ripples across her body—skin to scales. Her black and green scales are matte in color, absorbing the light instead of reflecting it like mine do. She moves through the water with predatory grace, and her tentacle reaches out. I feel the spine with the toxin pierce the meat of my ass, the sting sharp and immediate.
“Thank you...” I manage to finish my thought before the venom hits my bloodstream. Warmth spreads from the injection site, followed by a pleasant numbness that makes my limbs feel heavy. Sleep blissfully claims me, pulling me down into darkness where the pain can’t follow.
My last conscious thought is that I’m completely vulnerable now—unconscious, injured, surrounded by people in water where I can’t fight or flee. If someone wanted to take me, this would be the perfect moment.
But I have to trust that my family will keep me safe.
I have to.
The darkness swallows me whole.
Chapter 39
Hemlocke
My unicorn bellowsin my head hearing Raven cry out from the pain—a sound that almost tears from my chest like something primal and wounded. My grip on her tightens as I try to absorb her pain, to pull it from her body into mine where I can handle it. When Bella comes and knocks her out with that spine, I damn near lose it. Raven goes limp in my arms, her weight settling against me completely, and I look over her at her father. He looks just as gutted as I feel—his sapphire eyes wide and haunted.
“Let’s take her to the surgical suite since she’s sleeping.” The doctor says calmly, his clinical tone grating against my raw nerves. He and his assistants file out of the room, their footsteps echoing on the wet stone as they head back to the clinic.
“Can you help me adjust her so I can carry her?” I look to Thauglor, and he nods before helping me maneuver his sleeping daughter in my arms. Her skin is still warm from the mineral water, her breathing shallow but steady. Corvis and Keir move closer and grip my elbows to keep me steady as I climb the slick stone steps to get out. Water streams from all of us, creating puddles with each step.
We follow behind Mina, heading to the surgical suite. The hallway smells of antiseptic and dragon fire—a combination that’s oddly comforting. It’s amazing that they have almost a full hospital down here in the lower nest. The doctor motions to a specialized table that has a face hole in it, padded with soft material. Corvis, Keir, Thauglor, and I maneuver Raven onto her stomach on the table, being careful not to jostle her injured wing. Separate tables are rolled over to support both her wings, the good one, and the broken one.
I glance briefly over at Abraxis, and he’s seeing the full scope of what’s being done for Raven—the specialized equipment, the careful positioning, the gentle handling. I watch recognition dawn on his face, realizing this exact procedure must have been done for him when his wing was damaged. His expression shifts from curiosity to something darker, more haunted.
“What can I do to help?” I look from Mina to the doctors, desperate to be useful rather than standing here feeling helpless.
“Corvis, go sit by Raven’s head so she can smell your drake. It’ll keep her calm even unconscious.” Mina’s voice is firm but kind. “Keir, you and Ziggy will be our runners to get things we need.” She looks at me and smiles. “I’m going to teach you how to do the wound care for her wing. Just like the doctors taught me to take care of Abraxis.” She gives me a knowing smile that carries the weight of experience, and I nod.
“Can my healing ability help her? Like it did with Titan.” I don’t care if I exhaust myself to heal her. I’d give every ounce of energy I have.
“Perhaps, but let’s see what we’re dealing with first.” Mina smiles and hands me surgical scissors—cold and heavy in my palm. “Carefully cut away the bandages. Put two fingers under the section of gauze you intend to cut.” I do as Mina tells me, my hands shaking slightly, and work a little section at a time, making sure not to cut too deep. The wet bandages resist the scissors, making soft tearing sounds.
What feels like forever later, we can finally see her wing with the splints taped in place on either side of her wing bone. The leather membrane looks pale where it’s been wrapped, and I can see the swelling along the break site—angry and purple.
The doctor steps closer and rolls a machine over her wing at the point of the break. The equipment hums softly as it works. Using rolled towels, he supports the bone on either side, then snaps what sounds like several pictures—quick clicking sounds that make me flinch. “Looks good.” His assistant says from the other side of the room before another assistant moves the machine away with a quiet squeak of wheels.
We watch as he puts the images up on this big light board. The images glow with an eerie quality, showing bone structure in stark white against a dark background. “The bone is mending quite well. If I didn’t treat her myself, I would say this break was almost a month old.” I move closer to the board with Mina to stare at the image, trying to understand what I’m seeing. The doctor points at the break with a pen. “She shouldn’t have that much bone growth already.”
I glance back at Thauglor, and he’s talking to Klauth and Balor in their own little huddle, their voices low and urgent. Something about their body language sets my unicorn on edge.
“Why is it odd? Don’t dragons heal incredibly fast?” I ask, trying to understand why everyone looks so concerned about good news.
