How was that even possible? How had Raithian done this to him?
One after the other, Braxton’s injuries reversed, leaving behind unblemished skin once more. To my dread, I realized that even after he was healed, the golden glow in his family’s eyes had not intensified; instead, it seemed weaker. His energy was not strengthening. Braxton wasn’t waking up.
“What else can you do to help him?” I asked Tharion once they all disconnected from my mate, their irises returning to their normal colors.
Leaning in, he nudged Braxton with his nose, making his form sway over the ground, but not awaken. Silence stretched between us, turning into scorching dread when Tharion’s eyes connected with mine.
“No!” I stood, fury replacing the agony threatening to capture my being. “This is not the end. Do you hear me? There must be something else you can do, so do it!” I ordered. “You are not giving up on him, Tharion! I forbid it. He is your prince. This is your son—!”
Memories swirled in my mind, and my head snapped towards Braxton, focusing yet again on how much he’d looked to when I took him from the Mirror World.
“His sickness,” I gasped. “I don’t know how or why, but this has something to do with his sickness, Tharion.” Heart thundering, I fought to remember what his treatment had been. “Blood!” I blurted. “He needs his father’s—”
Before I could finish, Tharion’s eyes widened, and he used a sharp claw to slice his finger open, immediately placing it over Braxton’s lips. Falling to my knees, I pulled his mouth open, allowing the blood to drip inside it. I had no idea if this would work, the blood had been injected into his veins before, not swallowed, but the direct infusion had to do something to help him.
Braxton’s reflexes helped him swallow the mouthful, but he still coughed to avoid choking on the liquid. His eyes snapped open, a brilliant golden light igniting his Dragon Eye and capturing every Dragon that surrounded us until the glow briefly illuminated the entire cave.
It barely lasted a moon-second, but he swallowed again, his eyes searching for me as he reached for my hand. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Gripping his hand in mine fiercely, I nodded. “You were the one attacked, and you ask if I’m alright?” A small chuckle left me, finally allowing relief to trickle into my soul.
A faint smile tilted my mate’s lips, but exhaustion won the battle, claiming him. Braxton fell into a deep sleep, and I placed my ear over his heart, making sure it was beating strong and that his breathing was steady before taking a deep breath of my own.
“Thank you for helping me,” I offered Tharion, caressing the hand that sat next to me, his finger already healed. “And for not giving up on him.”
He bowed to me in response, something telling me he was grateful to me too before my attention returned to my mate. The sight of fresh blood on his chest startled me, until I realized it was on the place where I rested my cheek. Lifting a hand to my head, I winced, seeing blood dampening my fingers as I brought them down to my gaze.
My temple was sliced open.
“That’s unfortunate,” I whispered a moment before the adrenaline finally left me, and I crumbled onto the ground next to Braxton.
Tharion’s hand was there to catch me.
20
BRAXTON
Thu-thu-thump. Thu-thu-thump. Thu-thu-thump. Thu-thu-thump.
The phantom sound of a hurried heartbeat, the one Azazel had shared with me, echoed through my subconscious, drifting away slowly the more awareness returned to me.
Fatigue clung to my being, a hazy blanket seeming to hinder my vision when I blinked, attempting to take in my surroundings. A couple of lanterns softly illuminated the room, making me think someone else was here, watching over me, or had been checking on me throughout the night.
As my gaze shifted to the window, I noticed a beam of bright light coming into the kingdom through the natural skylight of our mountain, indicating it was well into the morning.
Blinking again, my vision cleared a bit more, and I found Evanna asleep beside me. A small cloth bandage covered her temple, causing confusion to grip my still foggy mind. We’d been changed into our sleeping clothes, but I couldn’t remember how I got to the bed or why she was hurt.
What happened to her?
To me?
The answer fought hard to make it through the fog but wasn’t successful. Turning to face her, I gently peeled away the bandage to find a nasty gash on her skin, though it had already begun to mend. Placing my lips over the wound, I sent my healing magic into it. My energy scanned her, sensing she’d suffered a slight concussion, which meant the cut was created by a hit to the head. Concern replaced the confusion, and I sat up, checking to make sure she was otherwise okay.
Whatever afflicted her was healed by my kiss, until the only thing I sensed in her was fatigue.
“How are you feeling?” Imogen’s voice called my attention to the corner of the room, to find her sitting under one of the lanterns with a book. Not just any book, Dad’s journal. “I hope you don’t mind. It brings me pleasant memories of him. Of our adventures…” She waved the journal at me, but I shook my head.
“Of course not. You can read it whenever you want,” I answered honestly, rubbing my eyes to clear the remaining haze. “What happened?”
