I don’t respond. Silas leaves without another word as I turn and look down at the fragile form on my bed. I go away with Hex and Viktor, hunting for answers, and this is what I come back to.
I trail my fingertips delicately down the side of her face. Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes.
“Why did you do this?” I ask.
Her dry lips part. “To be free,” she whispers.
I clench my jaw tight, her words hitting me in the gut like a harpoon. She would rather die than be held here. I can’t guarantee her freedom. I cannot let her go in death, nor in life.
“You will eat. I will not allow you to do this to yourself,” I fume, my anger building toward myself, toward my men, my coven, for allowing her to get this far.
“You can’t make me,” she argues, her voice dry and barely audible.
My anger eases a fraction at her stubbornness surfacing even now. “You eat, get stronger, and I will make you a deal,” I offer.
She blinks. “What deal?”
“Eat, and we will talk,” I assure her as my hand cups her cheek, unsure if she can see the desperation in my eyes for her to eat.
A knock at the door snaps my attention away. I withdraw my hand and abruptly stand.
“Enter!” I bark.
Talon walks in, his makeshift medical bag in hand. “You require my assistance?” he asks as he steps intomy chambers. I don’t miss the way his body is taut, as if he’s waiting for me to attack, to inflict punishment.
“I do.” I nod. “Make her better,” I demand.
He looks from Evelynn to me. “I, I cannot.”
I move behind him in a blur, catching him off guard. “You can and you will,” I growl in his ear, the threat clear in my tone.
“I can stitch. I can cut. I can remove and bandage. This kind of medical assistance is beyond me. It’s beyond anything I have ever performed,” he says firmly.
“Then how do we make her better?” I seethe, stalking away to stop myself from ripping his head from his shoulders.
“Hex?” Talon suggests. “Maybe he knows of a ritual or elixir?”
I nod. “Get him,” I order.
Talon nods and makes his way to the door.
“Talon.”
He pauses, his hand on the handle, his body rigid.
“I’m calling court. I want you all in there waiting for me. I won’t be done until I am assured she is okay,” I order.
“Yes, Prez,” he nods before leaving.
Hex enters a few minutes later, a brown glass bottle in one hand. “This should help,” he says,kneeling beside her. He gently lifts her head. “Drink this,” he orders.
She parts her lips slightly to drink the liquid from the bottle. I watch as she desperately gulps down whatever he’s giving her until the bottle is completely empty. She hums in approval.
“What was that?” I press.
“Isotonic,” he shrugs. “Tropical flavour.”
“Then why did you put it in a brown glass bottle?” I ask, confused.
