ROWAN
By the next afternoon, I’m mostly back to normal, which would be easier to appreciate if Lev would stop touching my chest every time I breathe differently.
He’s stretched across me on the couch with one knee hooked over my thigh and his hand under my shirt, palm resting over the ribs that locked up yesterday while Amand sits at the other end with Lev’s feet across his lap.
Lev has barely left me alone since we got home.
He doesn’t hover exactly, because hovering would require distance, but he keeps finding excuses to stay attached to me somehow, whether it’s his hand under my shirt, his fingers hooked into my waistband when I stand, or his entire body thrown over mine like I might disappear if he gives me enough room.
I cover his hand with mine when his fingers spread over my ribs again. “You know I’m still breathing, right? You don’t actually have to check every five minutes.”
“I’m not checking.” Lev stays exactly where he is, cheek against my chest while Amand’s thumb moves lazily over his ankle. “I’m lying comfortably on my mate while making sure the idiot who picked up the murder snake continues performing basic biological functions. Completely different thing.”
Amand lowers the tablet he’s been reading and looks at me. “I wouldn’t argue too hard. He finally stopped waking up every time you moved last night.”
Lev’s head snaps toward him. “Traitor.”
“You were kicking me every time Rowan rolled over.”
“Because he kept moving.”
“I was asleep,” I tell him, sliding my hand under the back of his shirt and rubbing slowly between his shoulders. “That’s generally when people move without asking permission.”
Lev mutters something into my chest that I don’t bother making him repeat. The tension under my palm is still there, though, tight through his shoulders even while he’s draped over me like he owns the space.
I shift farther into the couch and the ache beneath my ribs catches enough to make my next breath shorter. Lev’s head comes up immediately, but before he can ask, I catch him behind the neck and pull him down until his mouth is close to mine.
“It aches,” I tell him. “That’s all. It isn’t getting worse, and nothing is turning back to stone.”
“You said you were fine yesterday while half your body was decorative.” Lev narrows his eyes at me, but he lets me keep my hand on his neck. “Your scale is clearly fucked.”
“That’s why Gerald has a healer waiting.”
Amand’s phone is already in his hand. “He wants us there in about twenty minutes. He said the scan should tell us whether the weakness is from lingering petrification or actual damage.”
Lev pushes himself upright so fast that his shirt rides halfway up his stomach. “Actual damage wasn’t one of the options anybody mentioned yesterday.”
“Because yesterday we were slightly more focused on getting Rowan’s lungs to work again.” Amand catches Lev’s ankle when he starts climbing off me. “You have time to panic after you put pants on.”
Lev looks down at himself, apparently remembering he stole one of my shirts this morning and never bothered with anything beyond boxers. “I’m not panicking. I’m being appropriately hostile toward new information.”
I catch the hem of the shirt before he can escape completely and pull him back down far enough to kiss him. He makes an annoyed sound against my mouth that lasts about a second before his fingers slide into my hair and his body settles against mine again.
The bond catches quickly enough that Lev shifts farther over my lap before Amand reaches across and closes a hand around his ankle. “Not today.” Lev looks ready to argue, but Amand tips his chin toward my chest. “You can wait until the healer clears him.”
Lev pulls back from me and looks between us. “Both of you are deeply irritating when you cooperate.”
“You like us.”
“I tolerate you because moving would be inconvenient.”
I tighten my arm around his waist. “That sounds convincing.”
His mouth twitches despite himself, and some of the tension finally eases out of his face. He stays where he is for another minute before Amand reminds him, for the second time, that boxers don't count as pants if we’re leaving the house.
Lev gives him the middle finger without looking away from me. “You’re very controlling for someone who spent yesterday laughing at a medical emergency.”
Amand picks his tablet back up. “You were funny until you weren’t.”
“That’s not the defense you think it is.” Lev pushes himself off me anyway, muttering about betrayal while he heads upstairs.
By the time we reach Essence, I’m tired enough to stop pretending the scan is unnecessary.
The ache has settled deeper beneath my ribs, and the stairs take more out of me than they should.
Lev notices somewhere around the second landing and immediately slows, but instead of saying anything, he hooks two fingers into mine and keeps pace beside me.
Amand looks over once. I know that look. He’s noticed the same thing I have: Lev is trying very hard not to make this worse by fussing out loud.
Gerald is waiting in his office with one of the agency healers and a scanner already set up beside the desk. Lev spots the equipment first and points at it before anyone can say hello. “If that thing has a needle hidden in it, I’m leaving Rowan here and waiting in the hall.”
The healer looks between us. “You’re not the patient.”
“That has never stopped medical professionals from becoming creative.”
I catch the back of his shirt before he can inspect the scanner himself. “Sit down before she decides you need to be sedated.”
“For what?”
“General purposes.”
Amand takes the chair beside mine while Lev stays on his feet, close enough that his leg brushes my knee when the healer starts the scan. He doesn’t move away when I catch his hand, and by the second pass over my chest, his fingers have threaded tightly through mine.
The healer adjusts the scanner and goes over the same area again. Lev sees the change in her expression before I do. “What did you find?”
“Let me finish the scan first.”
Lev glances at me. “Nobody says that before good news.”
I squeeze his hand once. “Give her a minute.”
She makes one more pass before turning the display toward us. “The petrification went deeper than it looked from the outside. It reached part of both lungs, the diaphragm, and some of the tissue around them before the reversal started.”
Lev’s grip tightens hard enough that I feel it in my knuckles. I keep my attention on the scan. “How much damage are we talking about?”
“Less than there should be.” She points to several highlighted areas across my chest. “There’s inflammation, some tearing where the tissue released unevenly, and stress damage from the organs beginning to harden. That explains the fatigue and the pain when you breathe deeply.”
Amand leans forward. “You said less than there should be.”
“Much less.” She enlarges the image. “Whatever reversed the petrification also protected the organs while the stone was breaking down. If that protection hadn’t happened, I’d expect significantly more damage to the lungs and diaphragm.”
Lev shifts closer to the screen. “So the stone itself is gone?”
“Yes. There’s no lingering petrification and nothing here suggesting it’s going to come back. What Rowan is feeling now is the aftermath.” The healer looks at me. “You’re not at one hundred percent because your body is healing actual organ damage.”
I hear Lev inhale beside me and immediately know where his mind went. “And that heals?”
“Yes. Rest, fluids, no shifting for a few days, and nothing strenuous until his breathing feels normal again. The tissue is already repairing itself.”
I turn my head toward Lev. “There. Healing.”
He looks at me like I’ve missed half the conversation. “Your lungs were partially petrified.”
“And now they aren’t.”
“That doesn't make the first part less insane.”
“No, but it does make the second part useful.” I lift our joined hands slightly. “You can stop looking at me like I’m about to crumble.”
“I wasn’t.”
Amand glances over. “You were.”
Lev cuts him a look. “Nobody asked you.”
The healer’s mouth twitches as she starts shutting down the scanner. “He’s fine to go home. Just keep him from doing anything stupid for a few days.”
Lev looks at me immediately. “That’s going to require supervision.”
I squeeze his hand again. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Not even a little.” His thumb moves over the side of mine, and the grip finally loosens. “But I’m absolutely using it.”
Amand’s mouth pulls faintly at one corner while the healer finishes the scan.
She leaves us with instructions that sound almost identical to the ones Amand has already been enforcing at home, and Lev listens closely enough that I know I’m going to hear every word again the second I do something he doesn’t approve of.
Gerald waits until the door closes before looking at Lev. “I need you to walk me through what happened when the reversal started. Not the entire scene, just the part where Rowan’s condition changed.”
Lev shifts in his chair. “He couldn’t breathe properly anymore. Medusa couldn’t undo it, I didn’t have anything useful to try, so I kissed him. The stone cracked almost immediately.”
Gerald reaches for the notebook on his desk. “Was the petrification already across his chest when you kissed him?”
“Yes, and that’s why I kissed him.” Lev watches Gerald write something down. “If you’re about to make me give you a second-by-second breakdown, I didn’t exactly have a clock out while my mate was suffocating.”
“I don’t need exact seconds.” Gerald glances up. “I need sequence. Petrification reaches the chest, breathing becomes compromised, you make contact, then the stone fractures.”
Lev’s mouth tightens. “That’s the sequence.”
Gerald writes again before asking where Lev had been touching me. Lev gives him a look that gets sharper the longer Gerald waits, then gestures toward me.