Chapter 22
Mari
Ileaned against a mound of pillows staring down into a bowl of broth and wondered if I’d finally died. Not because the broth was so good. It actually tasted a bit like dishwater. No, it was because I felt…good.
My hip still ached with a dull throb, and I was exhausted to the bone. Not even close to perfect, but far better than I deserved, considering the battle I’d gone through.
In spite of its flaws, the broth was hot and salty, so I took another careful sip. My stomach accepted it without complaint, and I abandoned the spoon and drank straight from the bowl, letting the heat warm me from the inside out.
The door opened and Zanthe the healer swept in with a bundle of fresh sheets over one arm.
“Well?” she demanded before I could get a word out. “How do you feel, then?”
I lowered the bowl and managed a smile. “Much better than expected, thanks to you.”
Her mouth tipped into a little smile as she set the linens down on the table beside the bed.
“A bit more specific, please.”
I sighed. “Sore. Tired. And happy to be alive.”
Zanthe’s tugged at the bedding and pressed a light finger to the dressing at my hip. “Hmm. No fresh blood at all. That’s good.”
“And the demon king? How is he?” I asked, aiming for casual and missing by a mile, if her knowing smile was any indication. “I only ask because he took a rather ugly knock himself,” I added.
Too little, too late.
“His Majesty is doing well. Although, you can ask him yourself soon, I’m sure. He didn’t leave your side for the longest.”
I paused as I went to set down the empty bowl.
“Oh.”
The thought should not have mattered as much as it did, yet here I was, cheeks blazing and trying not to smile.
A roar of laughter rolled faintly down the hall followed by a loud thunk and more laughter of the rather male kind.
“Males.” Zanthe let out a grumble. “I’ll tell them to pipe down so you can sleep,” she said, heading for the door.
“Who’s here?”
“The guards and such. Celebrating his majesty’s win, no doubt.”
I blinked at her.
“Nope,” she said, slowing to a stop and glaring at me.
“Nope, what?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“Nope, you may not go wandering around the castle on a freshly dressed wound just because the males are making enough noise to wake the dead.” She crossed her arms, brows reaching her silvery hairline.
“I just want to speak to him for a minute. And I have to check on my Doves. Please…”
“You were just stabbed.”
“Slashed,” I corrected.
“Deeply.”
I cocked my head, shooting her a pleading look. “And you did such a fine job patching me up, that I feel more than up to the task for a short walk.”
Her look could have scared a hell-hound away.
“I cannot rest until I know the girls are okay. I’ll be back in 20 minutes, or you can come find me. Deal?”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed before she could gainsay me, and pain shot through my hip, sharp enough to steal my breath for half a beat. Luckily, it passed just as fast and I stood, holding out both hands.
“Look? See? I’m fine.”
Zanthe let out a huff. “You impossible little woman.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a compliment.”
The room tilted slightly, then steadied. My legs were weaker than I would have liked, but they held me up, which was good enough for me.
I slipped my robe over my nightdress, wincing as I moved toward the door. The laughter came again, fuller now, and I could’ve sworn I picked Gabe’s out of the mix.
Gods help me, I wanted to see his face.
By the time I reached the entrance to the hall, I was a little breathless and having some regrets as every stitch made itself known. But when I stepped through the archway, I felt zero pain.
The table looked as though a hungry pack had raided the kitchens for whatever they could find. Cold cuts piled onto boards with crusty loaves of brown bread. Wedges of cheese, pickled vegetables, and open bottles of beer and wine filled the space.
Luc sat on a chair facing the doorway, one boot on the long bench beside him, a mug in hand. Two of Gabe’s guards were rehashing the battle, both obviously already deep in their cups as the others listened in amusement.
And at the head of it all sat Gabe.
His black shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, a bruise shadowing one whole side of his jaw, almost as dark as the shadows beneath his tired eyes.
Still the sight of him hit me like a gut punch.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Luc said, rising halfway from his chair as he caught sight of me. “Look who decided death was too boring for her. Hello, Briar Queen.”
Every head in the room turned. Then, a deafening wave of cheers filled the room, all aimed my way.
“There she is! What a scrapper!”
“Thought you’d be abed a week, at least!”
“By the gods, woman, what a fight you put up!”
Luc snatched up a mug from the table and crossed to me in three long strides, pressing it into my hand before I could refuse.
“I cannot believe you can walk,” he said, looking me over. “And no burns either, Gabe said?”
“Unbelievable,” I murmured, genuinely puzzled all over again, but remembering the strange sensation that had come over me in the moment. I tucked it in the back of my mind to explore later and focused back on Luc.
Then his grin softened. “I still can’t believe it. You. Innia. The Briar Queen. All one and the same.”
I took a swallow of beer. “I had hoped that no one would ever find out.”
He nodded once, serious now. “I know it must have been hard for you, given what pain my kind has caused yours. But your instincts were right.” He glanced toward the head of the table. “Gabe’s a good demon.”
My heart gave a hard, traitorous bounce.
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Gabe looked up and caught my eye as I moved toward him. The room, already warm, seemed hotter.
“You should be in bed,” he growled. But his eyes didn’t match the bluster. And when I reached him, his hand settled lightly at my waist, and he guided me gently onto his lap. A startled breath broke from my lips as he leaned in.
“Thanks to Priscilla, despite the truth you spoke, they all think we’re fucking anyway, and I want you close.”
My pulse hammered as I set the beer down on the table and slowly settled back against him. I knew I should have moved. For pride’s sake, if nothing else. But he was strong, and solid, and very much alive. A fact that I needed to embrace for a moment.
I curled into him with a sigh.
“One day, when you’re mended, you’ll make that sound again for me.”
I clenched my legs together and bit back a groan.
How? How could this man make me feel…all this when we’d both nearly died just hours before?
Maybe that was exactly why.
Maybe it was realizing just how precious and fragile life could be in this forsaken place that made it all the sweeter.
I pulled back to look at his face and forced myself to focus on the very thing that had brought me here.
“My Doves? They are all safe?”
He nodded and cupped my jaw in his hand. “Yes. I spoke to Algrin. I sent for them right after we won the fight. They’re already on their way back.”
Relief had my shoulders sagging and until that moment I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been wound.
“Thank the goddess,” I whispered.
Gabe’s hand shifted at my waist, thumb absently brushing the fabric of my robe. “I know you’re worried, but they’re in good hands. We’ll house them all within the castle walls until the werewolf is apprehended.”
We.
As if he was my partner.
My king.
The word should not have affected me, but there it was again, that strange warm thing in my chest.
The hall doors slammed open so hard the sound cracked through the room like a whip.
Rufus strode in, crimson robes snapping around him, his ironwood staff striking hard against the stone floor.
“There’s been another murder!”
The room went silent and my stomach lurched. I felt Gabe’s body tense beneath me, every line of him hardening in an instant.
Rufus’s gaze swept over all the men at the table, finally landing on the king.
“Just outside the castle walls.” He sucked in a breath and shook his head grimly. “Your Highness…it’s Priscilla.”