Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Izzy sat on the side of Luka’s bed wrapped in the extra blanket he’d brought her, drinking the tea he’d made her, and tried not to cry.
He’d bustled around her like she was a child.
He was clearly distressed. His scales flickered as they spread and retreated, only to spread once more.
His beast’s unceasing growl was audible across the room.
But he was just as clearly unable to get past his horror at the thought she was his mate.
As soon as she was safely settled, he muttered something about checking guard rosters and fled, which was ridiculous. A copy of the guard rosters was on the wall behind his desk, right where she could see them.
Part of her wanted to make excuses for him.
He was afraid. He’d lost his mother very young; she’d left him with two hardened sailors and never looked back.
His father had died, and his grandfather had dumped him at the castle and walked away.
Then he’d lost his best friend. They had been apart for years.
It happened fast. He wasn’t ready… she understood that.
But another part of her was so very tired.
He’s acting like a coward, her beast muttered darkly. I expected better.
He wasn’t a coward, though. He was always the first to dive into danger, brave and loyal to a fault.
She’d seen him jump off the rocky outcrops into a churning ocean to help a child, put himself directly in front of Shane if there was any hint of danger, and go toe to toe with the old king if he thought someone needed help. It was only her he couldn’t face.
That’s different. He’s not afraid for his body or his life… only his heart.
Izzy sniffed. Her own heart ached. What did that count for? Every time she let herself hope, even a little, this was how it ended.
Which reminded her…. She finished her tea, then opened the satchel she’d abandoned in Luka’s room the day before.
She pulled out a small packet of herbs—wild carrot seed mixed with dried smartweed—and poured it into the empty cup with a splash of cold water.
The taste was grassy with a hint of bitterness.
Not nice, exactly, but not impossible to swallow.
Just one more horrible thing she had to get through.
Her beast hmphed, but Izzy didn’t reply.
She slid down to lie on Luka’s bed and pulled the blanket all the way up to her nose.
She lay silently for a while, remembering the way she’d felt on their flight over the mountain, the way Luka kissed her, their bodies wrapped so closely together.
For a brief, beautiful moment, she’d held everything she wanted. Those memories would have to be enough.
She lifted her hands and peered at them in the dim light from the banked fire. They looked exactly the same. Why didn’t she have claws? Was this because she couldn’t shift? She sighed. Did she even want claws?
Her beast rolled its eyes. Of course we have claws.
Izzy held her hands up higher as proof, but her beast just rumbled tiredly. Have you even tried?
She sat up, letting the blanket pool around her waist, and peered at her hands. “How does it work?”
I’m here. They’ll come if you call them. Concentrate on Luka.
It wasn’t hard. His scent was all around her.
She could still feel the ache in her muscles from holding onto him as he flew, and the heat in her belly from finally tasting him, touching him, holding him deep inside her body as he lost himself with her.
She’d always known he was her mate. Even when she’d thought they would never be together.
Even now, when he’d rejected the very idea.
She gasped as ten lethal claws slid out from her fingertips.
She stumbled out of the bed and over to the fire to hold them closer to the light.
They were elegantly curved and sharp as razors, gleaming onyx with a hint of sapphire.
She turned them to catch the light, admiring them, and whispered, “It doesn’t make sense.
Luka’s claws were a shock to him. They hurt him. ”
Luka and his beast are battling each other. Clearly his beast is delighted with our mating. The drake chose claws; Luka didn’t. Her beast yawned. We don’t have that problem.
Thank the Mother. She’d lost Luka forever this time, but at least she’d never be truly alone. Izzy slowly withdrew her claws, then shuffled back to the bed and fell asleep with tears on her cheeks and the scent of Luka all around her.
She woke up to an empty room. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still stung. She washed her face and made the bed. Her eyes were puffy, and her head throbbed. Somehow she was even more tired now than before she slept.
She wanted to see Luka, even if it was just to say goodbye, but he was gone.
And she couldn’t change the wind by wishing.
She’d lived through this grief before. She could do it again.
The best she could do was focus on her patients, on the people who needed her, on her responsibilities and commitments.
She had a task to finish, and the earlier she got to the clinic, the more she could search before anyone else arrived.
She pulled on her breeches, borrowed one of Luka’s undershirts and a pair of clean socks, and shoved her feet into her boots.
She didn’t bother to wait for food before throwing her satchel over her shoulder and heading out.
She closed and locked Luka’s door behind her, then shoved the key through the gap between the bottom of the door and the stone tiles. She wasn’t going back.
The castle clinic was peaceful when she got there.
The first rays of sunshine spread through the windows, creating a glow around the lush green plants, while the scent of thyme, lemon, and vinegar surface cleaner hung gently in the air.
It was so familiar, so built into her, that she almost expected her father to emerge from one of the wards, eyes bright, face breaking into the wide smile he always gave her.
For a moment, her heart felt like it was cracking in two. Papa and Rayan were long gone. Luka was lost to her too. This clinic was no longer a place of safety and comfort. It was Melo’s now… and someone here was murdering people.
She swallowed her grief and focused on that thought as she dropped her satchel on an empty desk and went to work. The quicker she found something, the sooner this would all be over.
She searched through drawers and behind desks.
She went through the emergency room and sneaked into the storeroom using the key she found in a jar in Melo’s desk drawer.
Everything was exactly as it should be—and far too orderly to hide anything.
Finally, she went through each of the books in the library, quickly flipping pages and ignoring the snippets of case history and meticulously labeled sketches that would usually grab her attention.
Today, not even the scent of the old books and the softly embossed texture of the linen paper could soothe her.
She shook out book after book, placing them in piles on the nearest desk. But she still found nothing.
There isn’t anything here.
She hummed her agreement. Whoever killed Narya was too clever to leave something out in the open.
A door clicked open, and she raised her head to see Nolan stretching his neck as he made his way down the corridor from the healers’ room. The break room was cramped, and the beds were narrow and hard. She was glad she didn’t sleep there anymore. “Night duty?” she asked.
Nolan nodded, peering at the books and rolls of parchment scattered around her. “Doing some research?”
She hummed noncommittally. “Just looking. I’ve missed these books.”
Push him a little, her beast whispered. Perhaps we can put some pressure on the murderer. Help them to make a mistake.
Izzy looked up at Nolan. “And… I hoped maybe I’d find something of Rayan’s.”
He blinked, looking more awake. “Rayan? Do you think he left something?”
Izzy put the book she was holding onto the pile in front of her, watching him carefully. “I’ve been thinking about the way Narya died. It was such a tiny wound, almost impossible to find.” She shrugged. “It feels so similar. I started to wonder if there’s a connection.”
“What’s connected?” Sarwin asked from the front entrance. Melo stood right behind him, a disapproving look on her face as she took in the clutter.
“My brother and Narya’s deaths,” Izzy answered, searching their faces for any kind of surprise… or guilt.
“I can’t see how,” Sarwin replied. Was that a little too quick? A little too defensive?
A flurry of scales settled at Izzy’s wrists as she answered. “They were both well liked, neither had enemies, neither had any defensive wounds. Rayan’s body was in the water too long to see a small puncture, but maybe if we’d found him sooner, we’d have seen one.”
“They’re completely different,” Melo argued, striding up to her and glaring at the piles of books. “Narya was killed in the castle by an assassin. Your brother almost certainly did something stupid or dangerous or both.”
Izzy’s beast lifted its lip in a long, low growl.
Melo had always disliked her, but Izzy hadn’t realized that her hostility extended to Rayan too.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Rayan was neither stupid nor dangerous. I think he was killed, and this might be our opportunity to bring his murderer to justice.”
“Rayan is dead,” Melo snapped. “Your inability to let it go is exactly why you don’t work in this clinic anymore.”
Gods, Izzy was tired of Melo’s constant criticism. She was exhausted and heartsick, and if Melo wanted to fight, so be it. “I don’t work in this clinic anymore because I chose to leave. The queen asked me to be here, and I expect you to speak to me with respect while I am.”
Melo sneered. “Or what? No daddy or brother to run to anymore. Or perhaps it’s our knight commander you’re expecting to come and fight your battles?”
That stung, just as Melo intended. Izzy glared at the physik general, taking in the flat line of her lips and the flash of scales on her jaw.
Something had changed. Somehow Melo had moved from snide comments and subtle undermining to open hostility.
“What is happening right now?” Izzy asked. “Where is this coming from?”
Melo pushed past her and started slotting books back onto shelves.
“I will not have some spoiled little girl undermining me. First, in front of the archthane and Queen Danikha, then in front of the knight commander. Now here you are again, destroying my clinic as if you have some right to swan in and do whatever you want.”
Izzy forced herself to keep her voice calm. “I did not undermine you; I offered to help. Luka and I are… old friends.” Gods, that hurt to say.
Melo shoved the last book into place. “There is nothing of your brother’s here. I suggest you look elsewhere. In fact, go home, Izabel. We don’t need you.”
Izzy rocked back on her heels. Her bid to push the murderer had achieved nothing except open animosity from the castle healers. No one was going to reveal anything now, if they ever were.
Maybe the murderer isn’t even a physik, her beast murmured. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place entirely.
Mother of the Weave. If that were the case, then they truly had nothing.
Izzy was too tired to think clearly. Perhaps going home and regrouping was the best thing to do. Then she could work out how best to continue Rayan’s investigation. She lifted her chin and gathered her remaining dignity. “Fine. If you find anything, please send a note. I’ll be at my clinic.”
Sarwin picked up a cloth and dusted the now empty desk as if to clear any evidence of Izzy’s presence.
As Izzy turned away, she could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Ha. As if it’s even your clinic,” sarcastically under his breath, but his words were too low to hear clearly.
She swung back to look at him, but Sarwin avoided her eyes.
Izzy hesitated. She wasn’t completely sure of what she’d heard, and with Melo’s animosity and all three healers watching her, it wasn’t worth starting another fight.
She picked up her satchel, bowed to the healers, and left. Maybe it would’ve been better if she’d never come back to the castle at all.