Chapter 42
Wrexxon
Iwoke to pain, sharp and insistent pain that radiated from my middle with every breath. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or what had happened. All I knew was the pain and the familiar ceiling of my quarters above me and the heavy fog of whatever medication they'd given me.
I pushed myself up slowly on my elbows, every muscle protesting. My hand went instinctively to my side, finding thick bandages wrapped around my torso. The wound underneath throbbed with each heartbeat, reminding me that I'd been shot.
Then memories flooded back in fragments. There’d been the battle with Imperial soldiers, Jasmine on the ramp, crying over her sister, the relief when the woman sat up alive, and finally seeing the hole burned into my own stomach.
After that, there was nothing but vague impressions that were more feeling than memory—Jasmine's voice calling my name, the thunder of boots on metal, sharp pricks of needles in my arms, darkness pulling me under again and again.
I was alive. It was clear the healers had put me back together, but I was alone.
I’d been well enough to be returned to my own quarters, but as I glanced around the space, my heart sank.
There was no Jasmine, no discarded clothing, no sound of her in the bathing chamber, no evidence that she’d been sleeping next to me in the bed.
My mind reeled, even though my thoughts were still slow. Had she negotiated quarters of her own? Had she left with her sisters, deciding that being bound to a wounded warlord wasn't worth the risk? My majak wouldn't have allowed that, would he?
I touched a hand to my throbbing head, trying to organize my scattered thoughts. How long had I been unconscious? How much had happened without my knowledge or consent while I'd been too weak to have any say in it?
I almost laughed at the irony. It was rich that I was upset about things happening without my input when I'd taken Jasmine without giving her any choice at all. Maybe this was just karma. Maybe this was the universe showing me how it felt to be powerless.
Before I could spiral further into dark thoughts, the door slid open and Jasmine hurried inside carrying a tray laden with a bowl, sponges, and what looked like fresh bandages. She was looking down at the tray, her brow furrowed, when she glanced up and saw me propped up in bed.
“Tvekking hell!” She almost dropped the entire tray, bobbling it and then regaining her balance before rushing to set it down on the table. Then she was crossing the room toward me, her expression cycling through shock and relief and joy so quickly I couldn't track all the emotions.
She stopped a few feet from the bed, her hand half-extended like she wanted to touch me but wasn't sure if she should. "I should summon the healer.” She pivoted back to the door. “You shouldn't be sitting up. You need to—"
"No." My voice came out rougher than I'd intended, still gravelly from disuse. "I don't need any more patching up. I just need you."
Then my eyes drifted to the skin below her collarbone and the dark swirls peeking from under the neckline of her gauzy top. “Are those…?” I couldn’t finish the sentence because my throat became choked with emotion.
With rapidly blinking eyes that looked on a glassy side, she nodded. “I got them right after we came back onto the warbird, and you were rushed to the med bay.”
“Show me,” I commanded tenderly.
She tugged the neckline farther down to reveal marks identical to mine.
In the rush of the bonding ceremony and the frenzy of the mission to Lexxona, I’d almost forgotten about the marks.
I glanced down at my own chest, noticing for the first time that my marks had extended, curling now to my shoulders.
I must have been sedated and missed the burning sensation I’d heard so much about.
“Vaes,” I husked, needing to touch her, needing to feel her next to me, needing to know with all certainty that she was all mine.
She climbed onto the bed beside me, moving carefully like I might shatter if she jostled me too much.
"I'm not fragile." I scowled at her caution, even as I traced one finger along the lines of her mating marks, as if to assure myself they were real.
"You almost died,” she said, her voice breaking. She placed her hand on my chest, right over my heart. Her palm was warm against my skin, her touch gentle. "I almost lost you."
Something in my chest cracked at those words. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer, more relieved than I wanted to admit that she hadn't left me. I felt weak for even worrying about it. A Raas of the Vandar shouldn’t care, but I did care. I cared desperately.
"Tell me," I said quietly. "What happened after I fell?"
Jasmine leaned into me carefully, her head resting against my shoulder.
"They rushed you to the healer. You'd lost so much blood.
The wound was—" Her voice wobbled, and she took a breath to steady herself.
"It was bad, Wrexxon. Really bad. They had to do surgery.
Cut away the damaged tissue and repair organs inside.
You were unconscious for two days after that.
Two days where we didn't know if you'd wake up or if—"
She put a hand over her mouth, unable to finish the sentence.
I tightened my arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm here. I'm alive."
"I was so scared," she whispered. "I know it's crazy because this was basically an arranged marriage that I fought against every step of the way, but almost losing you made me realize—" She pulled back slightly to look at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
"I love you, Wrexxon. I really, truly love you.”
My breath caught. Whatever I'd expected her to say, it wasn't that. Even if the mating marks told me that she was mine, I hadn’t expected the words.
"And it's not just because you're amazing in bed," she added quickly, a watery laugh escaping. "Although that's definitely a factor."
I laughed and immediately flinched as pain lanced through my side.
"Sorry!" Jasmine gave me an anguished, apologetic look. "I shouldn't have made you laugh. You need to rest and—"
"I've never been happier," I interrupted, catching her hand and bringing it to my lips, "than being in pain laughing with you."
Her expression softened and melted into something so tender it made my chest ache worse than any wound.
"I love you too," I told her, needing her to hear it.
Needing her to know that what she felt wasn't one-sided or crazy or too fast. "Not just because you're beautiful, though you are, and not just because you make me wild with desire, though you do that too.
I love you because you're fierce and stubborn and brave enough to challenge me when I'm wrong.
You make me want to be better than I am, and you've given me something to fight for beyond revenge. "
She kissed me then, soft and gentle, but with no less passion.
When she pulled back, I asked the question that had been weighing on me since I woke. "Your sister. Is she truly okay?"
Jasmine smiled, the expression lighting up her entire face.
“Brielle? She’s fine. She always said books were her salvation, and I guess she was right.
Both my sisters are fine and grateful to be on the warbird.
” She rolled her eyes in a way that suggested affectionate exasperation.
"Kaya has developed a crush on approximately every single raider on this ship, even though she isn’t the unrepentant flirt she used to be.
Still, your warriors don't know what to do with her. "
I felt my lips twitch. “Because I am sure my majak has declared them off-limits to the raiders.”
“Which means they’re safe from her,” Jasmine said. “For now.”
I knew there was more I needed to know and a crucial debriefing with my officers. I had questions about the battle and about the status of the rebels on Lexxona.
But for now, I was content to lie in bed with my Raisa, even though I was still too weak to do all the things I wanted to do to her. Even though my body was protesting every movement, being alive and with her was worth every bit of pain.
"Stay with me," I murmured, pulling her closer and pressing a hand to her mating marks. "Just for a while."
"Always," she promised, settling against me carefully. "I'm not going anywhere."