Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
CONNOR
T he nightmare grips me. Fiona’s in my arms, screaming as I fly her away from the helicopter to safety. But Roman is shooting at us, those deadly blue bolts whistling far too close to her pretty face. I twist and turn and fly as fast as my wings will carry me, but icy pain, so cold it burns, pierces my flesh, punches a hole in my wing. And then another. And then another. I’m twisting and dodging, but he’s too fast, and before long, the membrane of my wings is tattered. Cradled in my arms, Fiona is weeping now, her creamy skin splattered with my blood. But I’ve protected her; I’ve saved her. Until the air starts to sing through the holes in my wings and I realize we’re falling. Her eyes grow wide just before we careen into the earth.
I wake, heart pounding, and sit up in bed. Bones is at attention, ears trained on me. “Just a nightmare, buddy. Go back to bed.” He rests his head on his pillow .
The first rays of silvery light diffuse through the window, chasing the moon from the sky. Morning. Tentatively, I stretch my wings and peel away the bandage where the hole had been. I can still see where Morwyn stitched it, but it’s not as painful to move. Almost healed. I dig my fingers under the one on my chest. That wound is worse, still sporting blue veins that branch across my torso. They’re fading but still hurt like hell.
“One more day,” I mumble.
Carefully, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet landing on the cold stone floor, my eyes on the attached bathroom. An image crashes down the bond that knocks the air from my lungs. Roman kissing Fiona. And I can feel her cringing. I can tell she doesn’t want it. But he doesn’t stop.
I roar so loud it shakes the walls.
A nurse runs in. I don’t remember her name. “What’s wrong? Do you need help?”
With hardly a glance in her direction, I tear the bandages from my chest and wing and stumble toward the dresser. “I need my clothes and my Cardinal Key.”
She holds up her hands, clearly sensing that I’m not exactly safe in my current mood. “The doctor wants you to rest for one more day.”
I dig in the drawers of the dresser, but they’re empty. “I don’t have a day. Bring me a set of fighting leathers and my key. Now!”