Leighton caught her arm. “Please—is it bad? Will he die?”
The nurse frowned.
“He’s all I have.” Stunned at her own words, Leighton paused but realized they were entirely true. He was all she had. Countries and oceans separated her from her parents, from Ummi. And it sent waves of dread through her. “Tell me he’ll live.”
“Doctor Abeni will help him.” With a nod, the nurse paused. “Some lacerations are deep, bad, but others not so much.” Though she managed a pursed-lip-shrug combo, it seemed forced. Then she took Leighton’s hands and pressed the palms together. “You pray.” Then she left.
Oh sweet mercy—was it that bad?
Morose, Leighton watched the petite nurse vanish back down the hall and slip into the surgical room. Taking in a shuddering breath, she stood there, unwilling to move—an irrational fear that she would put more distance between herself and Owen.
Remembering the nurse’s urge to pray, she swallowed. “Please, God,” she whispered, but words failed her. She just had a desperate need for Owen to survive. He’d walked all that way…never complained. Why hadn’t she noticed he wasn’t doing well? How had she missed how poorly he was doing? What would happen to her if he died? Nothing good—and it would all be her fault.
“Do not let him die,” she finally managed. She wanted to call someone, get some help, but she had nothing—no phone. How could she alert Navas or Owen’s friends if he died? They’d been out there, in the grass—why hadn’t Omen saved them?
Overwhelmed, she paced to the door, then back to her sentry spot at the juncture of the hall and waiting area. If she had just agreed to escape with him, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. They’d likely already be gone. Safe. Far from this place.
Mugo appeared in the hall, phone pressed to his ear as he stalked toward her with a dark expression. “Yes, yes. He is with the doctor now.” He continued past her and sat in the corner, answering more questions.
Realizing he was likely speaking with one of the royals, Leighton eyed him. Couldn’t shake the memory of Maaz smirking at Ghalib as the camp workers loaded Owen into the Cruiser. The crown prince’s guard said maybe their work was done for them. That little revelation had driven Leighton into the Cruiser, where she hunkered down next to Owen before the engine revved and they headed here to the clinic. It was all true—the royals were trying to have her killed. Get rid of her. But Owen, who had come to protect and rescue—which she’d resented—had paid the price.
“You get me in trouble with the prince,” Mugo said.
Surprised at the accusation, Leighton glanced over her shoulder and found him at the door. She could only imagine what Maaz had done when he realized she wasn’t still in the camp. “I couldn’t leave Apollo alone.”
“Prince said you should not be here. He is sending someone to retrieve you.”
Oh no. Yes, she feared the possible reprisal she might face, but worse—she feared being separated from Owen. From the only protection she had.
“Wait here, Princess. I will be back.” With that, Mugo left the building.
Fingertips to her forehead, Leighton massaged the dull ache forming there. If they came and got her…
She swallowed at the thought. Paced down the hall and stood outside the surgical theater, hugging herself. Praying. Begging God to save him, save her—them!
The front door creaked open, jerking her attention to the waiting area. Retreating into the shadows, she had no idea how long she’d been standing here. Who had come to the clinic this late? Was it Maaz’s men?
The question made her slink back further and slip into another medical room. She let the shadows swallow her—did not want to make it easy for them to find her or take her back to that camp. To the royals.
Directly across from her was the surgical bay. Beyond that door, Owen. The sight of him so still, so unconscious…
Oh, Owen…
She swiveled around. Back to the wall, she let herself slide down, tears swelling. Only now, fearing his death, did she comprehend the hollowness that had consumed her entire existence swarmed once again, reminding her how cold and empty everything had felt before he had come into his life.
She tilted her head back and cried. “Please…please don’t take him. I need him.” Hands steepled over her face, she tried to keep her sniffles quiet. “I’ll go with him—please just let him live. ” Yes, yes, that was good. Right. “Let him live and I’ll go. And trust him—You.” A sob wracked her. “Please.”
“Hello?” someone called from the waiting area.
Dashing away her tears, Leighton rose even as the door to the surgical room opened and the nurse came out. She paused, giving Leighton a scowl, then hurried to the front.
From the surgical bay where the door stood ajar, laughter bubbled out. His laughter—Owen’s.
Pulled forward by that beautiful sound, Leighton nudged open the door. Saw him on the table—awake. Those blue eyes swung in her direction. Thank You, God! She rushed across the hall to him. “Owen!”
“What are you doing here?” Dr. Abeni grunted, but then went back to stitching with a shake of his head.
“Princess,” Owen said, lumbering a hand toward her.
