The Realm That Falls to Her: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Gold Weaver Book 3) by Storm Zara

Author:Storm, Zara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Istare up at the crags of the ceiling, counting the cracks and taking slow shallow breaths so as not to jostle the ten inches of crossbow bolt sticking out of me. The healers’ wing of the Unseelie Court is not exactly a calm, comfortable space right now, but I can’t blame them. All around me is the cacophony of post-battle medicine, with Unseelie running around, tossing bottles of tinctures and balms to each other, shouting instructions as the wounded groan around me.

The pain reached new levels as we traveled back through the water portal to the mountain, the squeeze and pull of the transportation spells agonizing now that I didn’t have anything to distract me from it. The heat of battle has well and truly worn off, and every inhale now is like dancing along the edge of a blade, the pain threatening to swallow me up into darkness. The only way I’m coping is by counting the cracks above me and focusing on the warm glow of my bond with Ruskin. It washes over me in gentle strokes, like waves lapping at the shore. He’s here with me, clutching my hand tight with his right hand even as his left bleeds a track of crimson down his forearm to his wrist.

“Ruskin,” I say, my voice sounding as craggy as the stony roof above me. “You should get that looked at.”

“I’m fine,” he says again bluntly, ignoring the pat pat pat of his blood hitting the floor in fat droplets.

“Fine like I’m fine?” I ask wryly. I realize that once again he’s the one sending the waves of warmth across the bond, trying to give me strength. Is his magic the only thing keeping me from screaming in agony right now? I can’t tell.

A male Unseelie in a dark gray uniform enters my sight line, leaning over me.

“I’m sorry we kept you waiting,” he murmurs, laying a hand across my forehead. “We had to see to some others first.”

I don’t need to be looking at Ruskin to feel him bristle beside me. He damn near bit someone’s head off when we first arrived and they’d told me to just lie down and wait. I squeeze his hand to calm him. Even he must realize the best thing now is to let the fae do his job, because he stays silent.

The healer repositions his hand, his brow knitting.

“Are you—” His eyes dart to Ruskin, widening. “My Lord, are you channeling magic to her at this moment?”

“You can feel that?” I rasp, surprised.

“Yes, and you need to stop,” the healer orders sharply.

“Over my dead body,” Ruskin says, his voice like thunder.

“Over both of yours, actually,” the healer says. “Your arm is bleeding so much right now because you’re actively draining your body’s strength into her. And I can’t work on healing her with your magic playing havoc with her vital signs. There’s too much interference.”

Ruskin makes a noise of frustration, lighting a little spark of fear in the healer’s eyes, but to his credit, the healer holds firm.

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