Chapter 7 Mal #2
Blood was trailing behind me. I could feel it, warm and wet, but the pain was secondary. My family came first.
“Check the alibis of every guest still here! Bring me anyone suspicious!”
“At once!”
Killian’s voice cut through my commands. “Papa, your leg is bleeding.”
“I know, pup.”
“But there’s SO MUCH blood.”
“It will heal.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not as much as seeing that man grab you.”
My mother was being carried behind us on a stretcher. She was still unconscious but breathing steadily. I overheard the healers saying she would be fine, just a blow to the head, and relief for her mixed with the agony of seeing Wen injured.
We reached the infirmary and I finally, reluctantly, let healers take Wen from my arms to lay her on a bed. But I kept Killian, who absolutely refused to let go.
“Your Majesty,” one of the healers said gently. “We need to examine her.”
“Then examine her. I am not leaving.”
They knew better than to argue.
A guard appeared with a bundle of clothes and tossed me a pair of pants. “Your Majesty.”
I caught them one-handed, Killian still attached to my other side. Right. Pants. I tried to put them on while standing on my destroyed leg and holding my scared son.
It was a mistake.
I hopped, nearly fell, caught myself on a table. “Fuck.”
From the bed, Wen’s eyes fluttered open. She looked pale and drained, but she was watching me hop around on one leg trying to get pants on.
“Need help?” Her voice was weak but there was amusement in it.
“I am fine,” I said, hopping again. My bad leg hit the table.
“Son of a...” I bit off the curse, remembering Killian was right here.
“Mama!” He said, and I set him down on the floor so he could stand next to her bed.
“Hi, baby,” Wen’s mouth twitched, then she looked at me again. “You’re very graceful.”
I froze, staring at her. “You almost smiled.”
“I did not.”
“You did. I saw it.”
“You’re delusional from blood loss.”
“You think my pain is funny.”
“A little bit,” she admitted.
My chest loosened. “I will take it.”
I went back to hopping, determined to get the pants on properly this time. I did manage to put them on, and I felt fucking proud about it.
“Papa,” Killian said seriously. “Why are your pants on backwards?”
For fuck’s sake. I couldn’t be-
I looked down. The waistband was definitely where it should be. The zipper was... oh no.
“They are not...”
They absolutely were.
Wen actually laughed. A real laugh, even though it was weak. “How did you...”
“I was in a hurry.”
“Just take them off and start over,” she suggested.
“I am not taking my pants off in front of everyone.”
“You were literally naked two minutes ago.”
“That is different than getting naked after you’ve put your clothes on!”
Wen was still laughing, her hand over her mouth. Killian was giggling too.
“Your papa is very silly,” Wen said to Killian.
“Yeah he is,” Killian agreed.
A healer cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, I really need to see that leg.”
“After I fix my pants,” I said stubbornly.
I hopped out of them, nearly crashed into a medicine cart, and hopped back into them the right way. By the time I finally got them on correctly, I had knocked over two trays and provided more entertainment than the infirmary had seen in years.
Wen had stopped laughing only because she was too exhausted to continue.
They took a blood sample, did their magical analysis, and I watched their expressions shift from curious to shocked.
“Your Majesty,” the lead healer said to Wen. “Your blood... the magic has grown exponentially.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, moving closer despite my leg.
“The threat to the heir awakened something dormant. The magic literally exploded outward to protect him. The flames, the portal, both manifestations of incredibly powerful magic.”
“Is she safe?” That was all I cared about.
“Yes. Just exhausted from the sudden awakening. Her body is adjusting to the new level of power.”
Wen was looking at her hands like they belonged to someone else. “I didn’t even think about it. I just saw him grabbed and I...”
“You saved him,” I said quietly. “You saved our son.”
She looked up at me, and for the first time in days, there was no anger in her eyes. Just exhaustion and relief.
“I am sorry.” I admitted softly, completely honest. “So sorry. I should have told you what I suspected years ago. I was wrong. I was afraid and stupid and wrong.”
I sat on the edge of her bed carefully, Killian still in my lap.
“I do not have a good reason for not telling you. Fear, maybe. Stupidity, definitely. I suspected but I was not certain, and I thought if I told you, it would change things. I should have trusted you with the truth. I am sorry. Truly sorry.”
She was quiet for a moment, studying my face. Then she sighed. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Whenever you want. Everything. I promise.”
“Mother Queen Sorcha is waking,” a healer announced from across the room.
We both turned to see my mother sitting up on her stretcher, looking groggy.
“What happened?” she asked, touching the back of her head and wincing.
“You were attacked,” I told her. “You are safe now.”
“Killian?” Her eyes went wide. “Is Killian...”
“Safe. Because of Wen.”
My mother looked at us, at Killian nestled between Wen and me, and her expression softened with relief. “Thank the gods.”
“Grandma!” Killian scrambled off my lap and climbed onto her stretcher to hug her. “You got hurt! Are you okay?”
“I am fine, sweet boy. Just a bump on the head.”
A healer finally convinced me to let them examine my leg.
It was badly broken, and setting the bone involved a sickening crack that made Wen wince.
Killian buried his face in my mother’s shoulder.
I swallowed down a tonic to enhance my wolf’s abilities, and then the healing magic finally flowed through, warm and uncomfortable, knitting everything back together.
When it was done, I could put weight on it again without wanting to scream.
I moved back to Wen’s bedside. She was lying against the pillows, eyes already starting to close.
“Rest,” I said softly.
“Can’t. Too much to think about.”
“Think later. Rest now.”
Killian climbed back over to us, wedging himself between Wen and me on the chair. He was still trembling slightly, coming down from the terror.
“Are the bad men gone?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, pup. They cannot hurt you. And anyone who tries will answer to me.”
Wen’s hand found mine on top of the blanket. She did not pull away when I laced our fingers together.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I know.”
“But you jumped through a window for Killian.”
“Worth it.”
She squeezed my hand. “Yeah. It was.”
Killian was already falling asleep between us, his body finally relaxing. The crisis had brought us back together physically, but I knew the real work was still ahead.