Chapter Eighteen
Acomforting voice pulls me from sleep.
I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times, as my head instantly starts to throb. I immediately shut my eyes again.
“Holy shit, ow,” I say.
I raise my hand to my head, pressing against the sore spot. There is a bandage and tape sitting up against my skin.
“Don’t touch the bandage little sun, she just put it on.”
I open my eyes again, turning my body toward his voice. A shooting pain travels down my left arm as I go to lay on it.
Draven is sitting in a chair next to my bed, looking very uncomfortable, with dark circles under his eyes.
Unfortunately, we have been here before. It seems that I also keep injuring myself.
I look around, seeing that I am in the healer’s wing, lying on one of the cots. Elora is in the corner of the room at her desk, flipping through papers. There are multiple bottles, metal tins, and dried herbs on the table next to the bed.
“What happened?” I ask Draven.
He takes a deep breath and shifts forward. “You do not remember?”
He looks at me then shoots a glance at Elora.
Elora meets his stare. She sets down her papers and walks over to us. “This is normal with a concussion Prince Draven, do not worry.”
He nods, settling back into his chair.
Elora glances at me. “I am going to have to put him in a cot next you when all is said and done. He is going to worry himself sick over you.”
I look up at Draven. He is staring at me intently, watching for my next move.
“I do not understand,” I say.
Elora and Draven look at each other and she nods.
Draven leans forward. “You have a concussion because you were knocked unconscious.”
I rear back. “Knocked out by who?”
Draven takes another deep breath.
“Your lady’s maid, Ivorie, was taken three nights ago.
You must have ran into her room during it in attempts to help her, and you were knocked out.
The screams woke up someone down the hall and the guards came, but they were too late.
She was already gone. They found you on the floor unconscious in her room. ”
I shake my head, pain shooting down my arm once more. I cringe.
“I am not sure exactly how, but you have also fractured your left clavicle,” Elora says.
I look down, trying to find the evidence of a break, knowing that it is hidden under my skin.
“The bone will heal very quickly, but you must be on bed rest for two weeks while it does,” she says.
I do not say anything, denial pulling at my thoughts.
“Your head will heal quickly as well during the bed rest. You do not have to stay in here now that you are awake. I will come down and change your bandages and bring your treatments to you. Your memory of that night will also slowly come back to you as you heal,” she says, walking away from us to sit back at her desk.
I look back up at Draven.
“I am sorry. This is my fault. I should have stayed, or assigned guards to come immediately that night when you told me about everything. I should have pulled them from other areas for the time being,” he says.
His shoulders slightly slump, revealing how he truly feels. He has been blaming himself for this.
I shake my head. “This is not your fault. But I do not understand, she is an incantor. They do not take incantors.”
“I do not understand it either. She is the first person taken that is not a vampire,” he says.
I sit up, whimpering at the pain that shoots through my head and down my arm.
Elora runs over. “Not too fast, Solene.”
I ignore her and swing my legs off the side of the bed, sitting for a moment. I know all too well that if I stand up too fast, I’ll just pass out.
My head clouds with dizziness for a moment and then it clears. Elora walks around the other side of me, placing a sling around me to support my shoulder. My stomach grumbles loudly as she fastens the piece around my waist.
“Can we go get you some blood?” Draven asks.
I shake my head. “Not right now. Take me to her room.”
Draven stands up, walking over to me and crouching down so we are eye level. “I do not know if that is a good idea right now. You probably need to just rest.”
“Oh, I have been resting. I have been resting so good that I have been asleep for three days,” I say, throwing my hands in the air.
Draven puts his hand up to his mouth like he is wiping it, covering a smirk that I can clearly still see.
“Fine. I will take you, but only if you drink something.”
“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You are not a very good patient,” he teases as he helps me stand up.
“Yeah, imagine that.”
We slowly but surely make our way out of the healer’s wing. Still feeling dizzy, I stumble a few times in attempts to walk on my own. Draven notices and wraps his arm around my lower back, holding me up.
As we continue to walk down the hallway, we stop outside of the kitchen. Draven sets me up against the wall and walks in to get me blood. My mouth is dry and my stomach is empty, but my appetite is nonexistent.
I slouch up against the wall, guilt and sadness weighing my body down.
I cannot believe she is gone, just like that. My last few moments with her I acted so terrible toward her, accusing her of something she did not do.
All of that just for her to end up becoming one of the victims.
Even after everything, she was still my friend. It was a friendship I did not deserve.
Draven walks out of the kitchen, handing me a cup. I take it from him, bringing it to my lips and taking a small sip. The first sip is heavenly, reminding me of my first time drinking blood.
“This tastes extra good today,” I say.
“It is human,” he says.
I stop mid-sip, the rim hoovering at the edge of my lip.
“I am not hungry anymore,” I say, trying to hand the cup back to him.
He does not take it. “It will help you heal quicker and you have had it before.”
I groan. “Yeah, I have had it before when no one told me exactly what I was drinking.”
He lifts his hands up in a silent plea. I can tell that this is going to be nonnegotiable. Giving in, I take another sip.
We walk back to my room in silence. Draven’s arm is back around me, holding me up. Once we step inside my room, I take a deep breath before walking over to the door that connects my room to Ivorie’s.
It is almost knocked off the hinges and the wood is split.
I did that. I remember clearly because that is how I hurt my shoulder. I was trying to break the door open to get to her. Without thinking, I raise my arm to touch my broken clavicle. The pain still radiates from it.
I step inside of Ivorie’s room. Draven walks in behind me, turning every lamp on.
They must have finished their investigation of the room already.
It is free of any signs of a crime aside from the deep black magical signature above the bed.
The obsidian still shimmers as if it was just put there, with no signs of it fading anytime soon.
I try to recall the memories of the night, but I cannot right now. It would not matter anyway.
Remembering will not bring her back.
Heaviness settles over me as I slowly feel myself descending back into the place I was when I first arrived here.
“I think I would like to go lie down,” I say.
“I think that is a good idea,” Draven replies.
I turn back around and leave the room, Draven following behind me as he shuts the door. I walk over to bed and climb under the covers. This time I do not care if a nightmare meets me at the other end of sleep.
I probably deserve it anyways.