Oh, right. They’d not been introduced. “I’ll get to that later. Everybody’s fine. Minor injuries only.” Or minor now, from what Aberfrer had said, though he hadn’t been too clear on Chynne. The injured gargoyle weighed on Wycke’s mind as well.
“Can I see them?”
“I’m not sure where Saris is, Jess is with the elves, and Chynne is with his people.”
Piers immediately snapped to attention. “Why is Jess with the elves?” He narrowed his eyes. “They didn’t take her against her will, did they?”
“Calm down! No one would’ve let her be taken.” At least, Wycke hoped not. Nah, his sister wouldn’t. And he couldn’t imagine Jess doing anything against her will without skewering someone with a fire poker. Who knew about the king, or what remained of Radre? “Remember how she pretty much attacked the coffee shop elf? Saris is making the most of it, I suspect, sending Jess to the elves as an emissary.” Wycke didn’t know Jess well, but she’d held her own in battle. The elves might or might not find her feistiness a desirable trait.
“His name is Vale, and he helped us escape. Still, I’d feel better if I could talk to her.”
“I’ll see what I can arrange.” Wycke wanted to talk to Saris face-to-face too. “After you were taken, the elves sent a force to help get you back. And they normally don’t involve themselves in human conflicts. I believe Vale has some sort of influence.”
“What about Chynne? He might be a jerk from time to time, but he’s all right sometimes.”
“Yeah, he is.” The little bastard kind of grew on Wycke too. “His people are tending to him until he heals, though Aberfrer said his injuries weren’t bad.” However, what one constituted as “bad” varied from creature to creature. Some could regrow extensive body parts.
Piers yawned and stretched. “How long was I asleep?”
“Six days.” But Wycke slept after being told the time. For all he knew, more days had passed.
“Six days? Without food or water? Without…” Piers glanced under the sheet.
Wycke felt the same way. “Aberfrer had his mages take care of us. Magic is a wonderful thing.”
He and Piers stared at each other.
“I thought you were all dead.” Piers let out what sounded suspiciously like a sob.
“I thought the same about you.” Wycke wouldn’t let the tears fall. Not now, though searing moisture stung his eyes. A lump formed at the back of his throat.
Images replayed in his mind: Piers screaming, chest ripped open, white light…
Wycke’s only thought at the time had been to comfort his mate.
In a very short time, he’d gone from a man whose only conquests occurred in the bedroom and who hadn’t really cared much about anything, to someone fighting battles for good over evil.
A joined man. With a mate. Though if given a choice to reverse time and go back to his old life, he’d turn down the opportunity.
Maybe.
More memories came, unbidden: Saris and Jess on the floor. Chynne lying motionless. The bright light. The flash of Piers’ memories in Wycke’s mind. The heartrending loneliness Piers endured between his uncle’s death and finding Wycke.
One. They’d been one.
Were still one.
Which could have gone so, so wrong. Wycke shifted his gaze to find Piers looking down at him from a position propped against the headboard. Piers said, “I saw you die; you know.”
“Huh?”
“I saw you fall, felt this horrible pain.” Piers ran the backs of his fingers over Wycke’s cheek. “I’d ask about Jess and Chynne again, but deep down, I know they’re fine, though Jess is a little nervous now, for some reason. Too weird. She never gets nervous. How can I feel her emotions?”
“I don’t know.” Wycke would save speculations about Jess for later. “High King Broen is still under whatever spell Radre, or rather, Lady Nyanda, cast.” He wouldn’t refer to the evil sorceress as Piers’ mother. “Aberfrer said he couldn’t tell us what happened right now.” He snagged an apple from a bowl of fruit on the bedside table. When had he last eaten? The apple crunched under his teeth. Good, so good.
Had the mages even fed them?
“Lady Nyanda? My mother?”
