Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Neve
Like most things, consciousness attacked Neve.
He gasped, bolting upright in bed.
His hearts raced as he scanned his half-moon shaped bedroom, sweat dripping down his temples.
Healers and friends alike slept in chairs, divans, or on floor pallets.
Remiche jerked to his feet and shuffled toward the bed.
Neve flinched as the old gray royal healer placed a cool palm on his forehead.
“The fever has truly broken, thank the ice.”
Neve shivered and pulled the covers farther up his bare chest. His head pounded with each of his hearts.
“It’s good to see you, Reillov,” Flyka murmured from his left. She sat on a low divan resting in front of the roaring fireplace. She wore only linen, not white leather, which was her custom.
Neve’s brows slashed together. Odd. Was this another dream? He flexed the fingers of his right hand. It didn’t feel like one, but neither had the other ones.
He shivered as the vision of his deceased mother flashed through his mind.
“I need you to look at me, lae reillov,” the royal healer said firmly.
Neve tore his eyes from Flyka and turned to the nonnae, who placed a gentle hand beneath his chin and held a candle close to his face. Remiche grunted, studying Neve’s face.
“His pupils are responding to the light. Do you have any head pain?”
He tried to answer but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Neve swallowed hard and wet his mouth. “Pulses but not agony,” he rasped.
“Good, good,” the old healer muttered. He placed his wrinkly fingers just below Neve’s jaw on his pulse. Neve glanced back at Flyka, who nudged Olwen next to her. His best friend grouched and then sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“I just got to sleep. I’m not ready to be awake yet,” he grumbled, shoving a few braids away from his strong square jaw.
Neve felt a flash of amusement when Flyka, with a glare, jabbed her elbow into Olwen’s ribs. “He’s awake.”
That got Olwen’s attention. His eyes snapped to Neve, and he practically launched to his feet. His oldest friend hastily dropped onto the edge of the bed and pulled him into a back-slapping hug.
“Gently,” Remiche chided.
Olwen scoffed, the scar on his cheek puckering. “He’s made of sterner stuff. Lae reillov can withstand a hug.”
Flyka pulled the burly giant off of Neve and smiled at him before leaning over the edge of the bed for a quick hug. Neve couldn’t help but crack a smile. She was never one for displays of affection.
He leaned against the cool wooden headboard and frowned at the darkened room.
The curtains were drawn on all the curved windows.
The feeling of being watched penetrated, and he glanced around the room to find everyone awake and looking at him.
The silence scratched at his skin, making his legs restless. His breath came a little faster.
It was too dark in the room. Too confining. Too crowded. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him.
“The windows,” he croaked. Neve cleared his throat as several nonnae jumped to their feet and yanked open curtains.
Neve struggled to regulate his breathing at the view that greeted him.
Deep snow covered the Glace Lake.
It hadn’t been like that yesterday.
But was it yesterday?
“How long?” he asked, his stomach in knots.
“Almost a fortnight, Reillov,” Remiche replied.
Neve’s breathing sped up, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His fingers clenched in the bedding, their clean mint-and-lavender scent teasing his nose.
No ginger. No amber. No sweets. No wife.
Bile burned the back of his throat.
“Everyone out.” His hands began to shake as memories flooded him.
“But my lord . . .”
“Out!” he bellowed, feeling blood rush to his face. He was going to lose it any second. His mate had left him. She’d tried to kill him.
The healers filed toward the door, Flyka and Olwen not budging from his bedside. As the door clicked shut, Neve flung the covers from his body. He swung his bare legs over the side of the bed, ignoring Flyka’s hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve been in bed for many days. It’s not wise to stand. You must build your strength.”
He batted her hand away, his hearts thundering in his chest. Neve stood up, and the world wavered. Olwen caught him before he hit the floor and helped him sit on the edge of the bed.
His friends knelt before him, and Olwen placed his hand on the back of Neve’s head. “Lean your head between your knees and take deep breaths.”
Neve dropped his head and gulped air, emotions rolling through him. Tears sprang to his eyes, and a hiccupping sob slipped from his lips. He hated these attacks that came on from time to time. The panic would become just too much to bear.
He glared at the floor and struggled to breathe while drowning in feeling.
She’d betrayed him.
His little human niliave.
But what was worse?
Neve had bonded with her, loved her, and allowed himself to trust someone outside his inner circle even after everything.
Not only had she almost taken his life, but if he’d died, his kingdom would have suffered one hundredfold.
A snippet of his dream surfaced . . . I love you.
Snot and tears dripped down his cheeks as he shook. The shame was too much.
He loved a traitorous valles.
“That’s it,” Olwen praised, squeezing Neve’s right hand. “In and out.”
Time slowed as Neve fought an invisible enemy.
He wrestled against his emotions until his breathing steadied and the tremors slowed.
Neve wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm and took the tissue Flyka held out to him.
He mopped the sweat and snot from his face, not meeting his friends’ gazes.
He wasn’t ashamed of his attacks. They’d been with him ever since he’d lost his mommar.
It was the fact that he’d made such a monumental mistake.
He’d trusted a saloes.
Neve qovving knew better.
She’s not just any human, though, is she?
Flyka’s touch left his shoulder, and he listened to her pad away. Fabric rustled, and then a robe was placed over his shoulders.
“So we don’t have to look at your nakedness any longer,” she commented dryly.
Neve grinned at her attempt to make him smile.
It soon dropped away when he caught a hint of Dahlia’s scent.
Part of him wanted to tear the garment from his skin and toss it into the flames of the roaring fire, but the weak part of him savored it.
This was the last time he could afford to give in to the weakness of his little saloes.
He wouldn’t be able to mourn her publicly.
He swallowed hard, staring at the lush carpet beneath his bare feet. Neve had to ask the question.
“Where is she? Where is my mate?”
Silence met his question.
Neve slowly lifted his head and glanced at his two friends, who were staring at each other, having a silent conversation.
“Where is my wife?” he asked again.
Olwen sighed and then tossed his arms up in the air, breaking off his stare with Flyka. “We do not know.”
Neve’s body flashed hot and cold.
“What do you mean?” he gritted out, finally finding some of the anger he needed to survive what had happened.
“She disappeared the same day you were attacked.”
Soft marbled skin beneath his hands and plush lips moving against his own flashed through Neve’s mind. He shook his head to dispel the images.
“We were hoping you could tell us what happened. We have been trying to track down the queen. There’s been no ransom request,” Flyka said carefully. Too carefully. She wasn’t telling him something.
Neve chuckled—the sound harsh in his own ears. “And there won’t be. This was not an attempt on both of us. The queen was not abducted. She tried to murder me.”
The words cut through the room like a sword. Sharp and painful.
Flyka hissed, her carefully blank expression morphing into rage. “I knew it.”
Guilt curled in Neve’s stomach, and he dropped his head into his hands. “Lo bietelle.”
The bed dipped as Olwen scooted closer. His friend wrapped an arm around Neve’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You gave her every opportunity to have a happy life here.”
Had he? It didn’t feel like it.
Flyka sat on his right, wrapping her arm around his waist. “We will get justice.”
Neve nodded, resolve forming in his gut. “We must hunt her. Privately.” The ramifications of what she’d done would be costly to him as king.
There would be no escape for the saloes. Neve squashed any sadness the thought brought him. She’d made her choice, and he had to make his despite any feelings he might secretly harbor.
Instead, he leaned into the hurt and rage.
Olwen coughed.
Neve frowned at him. Something wasn’t quite right. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Flyka growled, glaring at Olwen, before she sighed, locking eyes with Neve. “The Asterans have claimed that we killed their princess and have attacked Loriia near the western mines.”
“They are blaming us for the crimes their princess tried to commit?” he spat. How dare they?
Flyka’s lips pressed tightly together. “A body was discovered along the border.”
Confusion and torment battled inside him. That couldn’t be right. She couldn’t be gone from the world. Surely, he would feel it? A yawning pit formed in his gut.
Neve slowly stood, taking jerky steps to the divan. He held onto the back of the couch, squeezing until the wood groaned. “She’s dead?” he rasped, gazing into the flames of the fire, heat pressing at the backs of his eyes.
“I don’t believe so,” Olwen replied, wrapping an arm around Neve’s shoulders. He hadn’t even heard the giant get up. “It’s too convenient for her to die. She’s their only heir. This is a ruse. It has to be.”
He closed his eyes, trying not to give into pain radiating from his hearts. “You know our people. The hate for humans runs deep. It’s possible she’s dead.” The words tasted like ash upon his tongue, dry and bitter.
Flyka slung a hip against the couch and crossed her arms. “She’s alive. I’ve had warriors hunting her since her disappearance.”
Neve shook off his pain and clung to her words. Let it go. He couldn’t afford to think about her. Loriia had to come first. “The Asterans attacked near the mines? Why? They were given that land as part of the dowry.”
“I presume because they know they’ve been caught in trickery and deception. They know the treaty will be nullified because of Dahlia’s actions. They’re desperate.”
“Have warriors been sent?” Neve asked, numbness and fatigue riding him hard.
“Yes,” Olwen answered. “I did not want to leave you until I knew you were well, old friend. I will leave you now. The closest village to the mines has been decimated, and we must stop them before they get too much traction north.”
“Any survivors?” he asked.
“None.”
Bile burned the back of his throat. Women and children.
Asterans were animals. He would treat them as such.
He turned to his friend, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of hate for the humans. “Kill them all.”
Today, the humans would pay.
Starting with his wife.