Chapter 13 Navuh
NAVUH
Without a clock or windows in the underground clinic, time had become an abstract concept, measured not by the rising and setting of the sun, not the real one and not the artificial one that Navuh had installed in the harem, but by the rhythm of medical checks and Areana's visits.
He knew it was morning only because the nurse had already come and gone, and Areana wasn't there yet.
Thankfully, the unpleasant routines and the indignities necessary to keep his paralyzed body alive were done when he was alone, so his mate didn't have to witness his humiliation.
Navuh despised every moment of it.
The helplessness was maddening.
Five thousand years of shaping civilization reduced to lying in a bed while strangers prodded and poked at his broken body. He couldn't even turn his head to glare at them menacingly.
Some tingling sensations were starting to register, which Bridget regarded as a good sign, but other than that, his body remained stubbornly numb. The spinal damage was healing, but nerves were supposedly slow to regenerate even in immortals.
It could be months before he regained mobility.
He would go insane.
The fury simmered constantly beneath his skin, a low burn that would not fade until, by some miracle, he escaped this hell. He'd learned to bank it, to channel it into planning and plotting instead of letting it consume him.
Rage without an outlet was useless.
More than that, it was a weakness his enemy could exploit, and he was in the heart of his enemy's stronghold.
They feared him, wearing those damn earpieces that rendered him utterly defenseless. But as broken and bedridden as he was, their fear brought him a small measure of satisfaction.
He had leverage, but that too was useless until Annani finally deigned to visit him so he could begin the negotiations.
The door opened, and recognizing his mate's soft footfalls, he waited until she entered his field of vision.
She was so achingly beautiful, taking his breath away even after five thousand years of matehood.
Her golden hair was swept back from her face, and her pale eyes were bright despite the dark circles beneath them that spoke of a sleepless night.
Her expression was wary, still worried about his response to her.
Two days had passed since her confession, and she still approached him as if he might strike at any moment.
He hated that almost as much as he hated the confinement in an unresponsive body, and the imprisonment in his enemy's stronghold.
It was true that he had a volatile temper, but he'd never given Areana reason to fear him.
He'd never raised his voice, let alone his hand, to her.
He'd always cherished her and treated her with the respect and devotion she deserved.
He'd shielded her from the world, from his own cruelty and that of others, but it was impossible to hide everything from her. Areana was a smart female, and even though she had notoriously pretended to be oblivious, she was aware of at least some of it.
Still, she stayed by his side even when she didn't have to. She hadn't abandoned him. She came every morning, stayed as long as she was permitted. Whatever else she'd done and hadn't revealed to him yet, her devotion to him remained unchanged.
"Good morning, my love." She kissed his forehead as she did each morning, and then sat on the edge of the mattress, positioning herself so her face was in his line of sight.
"Is it?" He attempted a smile, though he suspected it came out more like a grimace. "I wouldn't know. There are no windows in here, and they don't bother with creating a simulation."
"It's a medical facility. They probably don't see the need. How are you feeling?"
"The same as yesterday. And the day before.
Trapped in a body that refuses to obey me.
" He tried to move his fingers, and for a moment, he thought that he'd actually succeeded, but it was probably just a phantom sensation.
A memory. The nurse had checked this morning, prodding him with a long needle and asking him if he felt anything.
He hadn't.
"You need to be patient." She took his hand, and once again, he imagined feeling her skin against his, but it was just a tactile memory. It wasn't real.
He studied her face, reading the tension in the set of her jaw, the nervous flutter of her pulse at her throat.
"Are you still worried about me being angry at you?"
"I know you are," she said matter-of-factly with no accusation in her voice. "I know it will take time for you to come to terms with what I have done."
"I have. I understand why you did it and why you kept all these secrets from me. I'm not angry about that. I'm just angry at the end result."
She nodded. "It's my fault that you are paralyzed, and it's my fault that you are here. I just couldn't leave you there, even if there was a small chance that you could heal from your injuries on your own. I couldn't take the chance that you would die."
"I know," he said as gently as he could. "I would have done the same."
She smiled. "I'm glad that you are not berating me for saving you."
"As long as you live, I want to be alive with you. I don't want to die and wait for you beyond the veil. You know how impatient I am."
His attempt at humor worked, and the tension in her shoulders loosened. "I had coffee with Lokan and Carol this morning," she said.
The names sent a spike of anger through him. He clamped down on it ruthlessly, keeping his expression neutral. "Did they come to visit you?"
"No." She hesitated. "They're temporarily staying in the penthouse across from the one I'm staying in."
He didn't want to hear about his traitorous son and his mate. If he wanted to heal, it was best if he didn't think of Lokan and Kalugal and their betrayal.
"How convenient for them," he said flatly.
"Navuh—"
"Is living in a stylish penthouse Lokan's reward for betraying his father and the Brotherhood?"
"No." Areana's expression tightened. "Lokan and Kalugal are being treated as family because that's what they are."
"They are traitors."
"Carol is Lokan's truelove mate. He didn't choose to fall in love with her any more than you chose to fall in love with me."
"I chose you." The words came out fierce. "Every day for five thousand years, I chose you. That is what love means. Loyalty. Devotion. Sacrifice."
"And Lokan sacrificed his relationship with you for Carol. That's loyalty too, just not to you."
Navuh wanted to argue, but the truth of her words lodged in his chest like a splinter.
He had demanded absolute loyalty from his sons, those by blood and those he had adopted, but he had done nothing to earn their loyalty.
He'd ruled by fear and intimidation, and if his sons by blood were anything like him, it was no wonder that they had taken the first opportunity to betray him or just escape his rule.
He pushed the thought away. He wasn't ready to examine it too closely.
"You said that the penthouse you are staying in is beautiful. Is the one they are staying in also as lavishly appointed?"
"The penthouses are a mirror image of one another, but the interiors are a little different. One used to belong to Kian, and the other to Amanda, but now they are used for other purposes. I wish you could see the view of the city from there. The sunrises are spectacular."
They both knew he wouldn't be joining her in that penthouse. He would be here, in this windowless room, until his captors decided what to do with him.
The uncertainty of what they intended was perhaps the worst part of his captivity.
"Has anyone else come to see me while I was sedated?"
Areana shook her head. "Just the medical staff. And me."
Either they were deliberately isolating him, which was a classic interrogation technique designed to make prisoners sweat, or perhaps they simply didn't consider him important enough to warrant attention.
Not that the latter was likely. The Brotherhood was still a threat to the clan, and he had no doubt that whoever was in charge of strategy would want to interrogate him.
Perhaps they were waiting for him to heal so he could feel pain.
After all, it was difficult to torture information out of a paralyzed male.
He could think of a number of techniques, but maybe none of them had occurred to his softhearted enemy.
"Does Annani intend to visit me?" he asked.
"She's coming to see me later today, but she didn't say anything about visiting you. She wants to spend time with me."
Navuh's jaw tightened. "I asked Bridget to request an audience with Annani on my behalf. Days ago. Either she failed to deliver the message, or Annani is deliberately making me wait."
"Perhaps she's waiting for you to get better."
"Annani is making a point," he spat. "She's making me wait on purpose. When you see her today, tell her that I wish to speak with her. It will be worth her time. I promise."
She nodded. "I'll convey your message. What about your sons? Do you want them to come visit you?"
"I don't want to see them." The words came out flat. "I don't want to talk with them. They betrayed me, and I want nothing to do with traitors."
Areana's face crumpled, and he felt a stab of guilt that he quickly suppressed. She wanted him to reconcile with his sons, not understanding that once some lines had been crossed, there was no coming back.
"I know this isn't what you want to hear, but they made their choices knowing the consequences. They can't have their cake and eat it too, as the Americans like to say."
"They're your children, Navuh. Your flesh and blood."
"They stopped being my children the moment they turned against me."
"That's not how it works. You can't just—"
"I can." He held her gaze. “Let it go, Areana. It's not going to happen."
She was silent for a long moment, and he could see her struggling with his words, wanting to argue but recognizing the futility of it.
"You can see them," he said, softening his voice. "You can spend as much time with them as you want. Get your fill of mothering. Fates know you need it more than they do."
"That's not fair."
"What's not fair?"
"It wasn't my choice to give them up." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You're the one who took them away from me. You're the one who decided it was safer for them if no one knew who their mother was."
"I did what I had to do to protect them.
I don't regret my choices. Do I wish it could have been different?
Of course I do. But everything comes with a price, especially power.
If I showed them any preference or if it became known that their mother was my fated mate, they would have been murdered as boys.
They wouldn't have been given the chance to grow into men who could look out for themselves. "
She met his gaze. "Are you sure that was the reason? You were so powerful, Navuh. How could it be that you were unable to protect your children?"
It hadn't escaped his notice that she referred to him as powerful in the past tense.
"When a boy I claimed as my own and showed attention to was murdered by a jealous concubine, I realized that to protect those I cared about I had to do one of two things.
One was to severely restrict everyone else's access to them, and the other was not to show that I cared.
That's why I kept you safe in the harem and didn't allow any immortals inside.
I knew you could handle the humans and were in no danger from them.
To protect my sons, I ignored them and treated them with the same indifference as those I claimed as mine but weren't."
He had made the only choices he believed could keep them safe, and he was living with the consequences.
Areana leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his.
"I understand." She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.
"I love you, and I always will." She cupped his face in her hands, her touch soft and gentle.
"You're not the monster they think you are.
You're complicated and ruthless and sometimes cruel, but you're also the man who jumped off a cliff to save me.
The man who's spent five thousand years trying to protect those you cared about the only way you knew how. "
It hadn't been enough, though. Fate had gotten him anyway. He hadn't been able to save his empire, hadn't been able to keep his sons loyal, and he'd been bested not by his enemies but by a three-hundred-foot fall onto jagged rocks.