Chapter Twelve
Sven
Alitta stopped Sven as he hurried toward his chamber. “What did they find out about Erik?”
He frowned as she grabbed his arm. “Erik? Is that what Lars wants?” He tried to continue on but she held him back.
“You don’t know?”
“Obviously not,” he snapped back. “I haven’t made it to the war room yet.” He took a step. “Let me go find out.” He glared at her. “And why do you know there’s been word of my brother before I do?”
She threw herself against him and wrapped her hands around his neck. “Because I keep my ears open to anything that concerns you.” She leaned up and kissed him. “That’s what mates do.”
“We’re not mates yet.” He pushed her off him and hurried down the hallway. He glanced back to see Alitta disappearing around the corner. “Bloody woman. How can someone I’m supposed to mate with be so annoying?”
He reached the door and swung it open before everything distorted.
The next moment, Sven stared at the ceiling while the world spun around him. He had no idea what happened. He had walked in the door and straight into the proverbial brick wall. One minute he was on his feet, the next, Martin was hunched over him shining a light in his eyes.
“What happened?” His tongue felt slick and swollen which made his words distorted.
“Just lay still. I’m not sure yet.”
He tried to make the words make sense in his head. Lars hovered in the background like a nervous midwife, but Sven couldn’t make himself respond to the humor.
He could feel the hard floor beneath him but he couldn’t feel how cold it was. He had made the mistake once of walking barefoot around the castle and almost ended up with frostbite.
Okay, exaggeration, but the floor was still cold.
Words floated around him.
“The toxin…”
“...move him…”
“Why now…”
“Paralysis…”
“...no antidote…”
“Get Bryn.”
Yes, he tried to say, but he no longer had control of his mouth. He focused on Bryn’s face. Her dark eyes. The way her hair floated around her shoulders. How she looked wrapped in a plastic shower curtain.
Words became no more than a dull buzz. Sven fought to focus on Bryn. If anyone could help him, she could, but he had no way to relay that to Martin.
“Stay with me, Sven.”
The doctor’s words broke through the haze. Maybe because he echoed Bryn’s command. Sven wanted to answer, but his lungs were refusing to do their job.
He heard Lars shout another harsh command to stay awake, then Martin’s sharp tone that he couldn’t quite make out. The ceiling blurred overhead as his eyes refused to stay open. His body was too heavy and crushed against his insides. He was dying.
Bryn.
He felt his arm being raised and a hand grip his arm. A warm, steady voice chased the haze away, and his ragged breath evened out. The pressure in his chest lessened and his eyes weren’t so heavy. He knew before his eyes opened who it was.
His head was lifted and he felt the comfort of her lap. One of her hands cradled his head. How did she instantly make him feel better?
“What is she doing?” Lars’s voice was sharp and protective.
“From the looks,” Martin snapped back. “She’s healing him. And unless you’d like me to lose him in the next two minutes, I’d leave her alone.”
Sven forced his eyes open. The light created tears, but when the blur sharpened, her face hovered above him.
Wide eyes he could get lost in, full of fear and confusion.
Reminiscent of the first time they met. She didn’t look like she had any idea what was happening, and yet, her touch saved him again.
She glanced up at Martin. “I don’t…” Her whisper trembled. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re doing it,” Sven rasped. The words scraped his throat like shards of glass.
Martin leaned in with his instruments and then pulled back with a relieved exhale. “Good. His vitals are stabilizing.”
Sven watched as Martin guided Bryn’s hand to touch his bare chest. “Keep your hand there so he can heal.”
Bryn blinked as she looked from Martin to Sven. “Because I’m touching him? That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t need to,” Martin muttered as he sat back on his heels. “And since she’s healing him, I think that eliminates her being a bad guy.”
Sven wanted to laugh but didn’t have the strength. He stared into Bryn’s eyes instead. “Don’t go.”
Her lips parted. The confusion in her eyes softened and she nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Lars stared at them. “What is that?” he asked as he pointed to her arm. “By your wrist.”
Martin reached down and pulled it off. “Looks like a bandaid or something. Tape of some sort.” He stuck it to the outside of his medical bag.
Sven never took his eyes off Bryn when she looked up at Martin. “I have no idea. I didn’t have any bandages or tape. Not today anyhow.” She gave a nervous giggle. “Not since my sister was constantly skinning her knee.”
As much as he didn’t want to move away from Bryn, the cold floor had started to seep through Sven’s clothes and he was certain that Bryn could feel the chill also. He motioned for Lars. “Help me up.”
They helped him to his bedroom where he sank down on his bed but kept a hold of Bryn’s hand.
His pulse steadied in defiance of his weakness.
He had always hated needing anyone, and he hated the reminder of how weak his body had become.
But right now, with her beside him, he didn’t feel as weak. He just felt alive.
Martin straightened. “I’ve done all I can do here. Even when I can’t explain it, I’ll take results over medicine any day.” He gave Sven a final once-over. “I’m going back to the war room to get my bag and then I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”
Lars followed him to the door. “We’ll talk later, when you’re feeling better.”
“But what about…” Sven’s voice trailed off as the door closed behind the two men.
Sven lay against the pillows. Sweat dampened his temples, Bryn’s hand still cradled in his own.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She tilted her head, which sent a curtain of dark hair cascading over one shoulder. “For what? I didn’t do anything.”
“You did everything.” He tried to shift and winced as a jolt of pain reminded him how useless his body was at the moment. He gritted his teeth. “I don’t know what is going on with all this. I don’t want anyone to find out how weak I am.”
Her brows arched and amusement flickering in her gaze. “Who would I tell? I don’t know anyone here.
His chest ached for an entirely different reason this time. The teasing spark in her voice hit him with more force than any stimulant Martin could prescribe.
Sven struggled to shift his position.
“Here. Let me help.” Her arms were surprisingly strong as she steadied him. The proximity seared through him. Her scent, the warmth of her body, the delicate hiss of her breath when she realized how close they were.
He shouldn’t notice. Shouldn’t want her so badly. But desire hit him low and hard, coiling like a wildfire in his gut. He hadn’t felt like this before for anyone. Not even the women he’d been with during the prior mating rituals. Never this raw and sharp.
But it was a passion he couldn’t act on. Not with her. Not when his health was so up in the air and everything about his future was chained to duty, including his mating with Alitta.
“Sven?” Her voice was quiet. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he managed. “Just, thank you.”
She adjusted the pillows, and once he was settled, exhaustion pulled at him.
He squeezed her hand and reluctantly let go.
“Thank you for everything.” Sleep dragged him down, but he fought it, unwilling to let go of her presence.
But when her hand brushed his forehead, peace found its way into his mind and he collapsed into sleep.
Fire woke him. He looked around and realized that he was awake, but in a dream.
Flames danced all around him, fierce and consuming.
In the heart of it stood a woman with brown eyes that burned hotter than the blaze.
He could feel the heat singe his skin and hair, but when she reached for him and their hands touched, the fire didn’t affect him.
Instead, it ignited him. Every nerve and every passion roared awake.
“Bryn…” he whispered in his sleep.
And then everything calmed and the peace returned. A kind of tranquility he hadn’t known he’d been searching for.
When Sven stirred again, it was dark in his room.
A quick glance at the clock showed that he had been asleep for about twelve hours.
The fog in his head had disappeared, and he wiggled his toes and fingers to make sure nothing hurt.
He shifted his core but none of the discomfort he had experienced remained.
He moved his arms to stretch and realized he wasn’t alone in the bed.
Bryn was next to him.
Curled in an awkward slump against the edge of the bed, her head tilted against his shoulder and her arms cradled around his own, her breathing deep and even. She must have sat in the chair beside him and drifted off. At some point, she had tipped over and came to rest against him.
Sven didn’t move. Couldn’t.
He knew in an instant that she was the reason he felt so much better.
Just a mere touch from her started to heal him.
If she had maintained contact for hours, she had completed the healing process, knowingly or not.
At least that was a good theory to go on at the moment.
For the first time, he felt protected. It was a unique feeling when he usually did the protecting.
He closed his eyes to savor the sensation, unwilling to shatter it.
But then the door creaked open.
Lars stepped inside, boots heavy against the floorboards. His sharp gaze landed immediately on Bryn, still asleep against Sven. His brow shot up. “Well. That’s unexpected.”
His voice jolted her awake. Bryn jerked upright, eyes wide. Her hair flew wildly around her as her cheeks flamed. She scrambled back from the bed as if caught in some forbidden act.
“I…I must have…” she stammered. She brushed at her hair as she backed away. “I didn’t mean to…”
Sven opened his mouth, but she was already out the door. The echo of her footsteps down the corridor faded out.
Lars turned back to Sven with a look that was equal parts amusement and warning. “Careful.”
Sven ignored the jab as he swung his legs off the bed and stood. He took a full stretch and groaned at the relief. “She may not know how, but she is definitely good for whatever ails me.” He forced his mind back to business. “What news?”
Lars’s expression sobered instantly. “Word came through that Erik is safe.”
Relief surged like a wave through Sven’s chest. His hands clenched into fists. “Where is he?”
Lars shook his head. “We don’t know but he’s alive.”
Sven exhaled. Alive was enough for now. “How do we know? Did he call?”
“He did. I didn’t speak with him myself, but the guard that did recorded the call.”
“I want to hear that recording.”
“Of course. And there’s more,” Lars continued. “Alitta is gone. Fled sometime earlier. We have no idea where she disappeared to but she left a note that she will not participate in the ceremony.”
“But I just saw her. Before…whatever happened to me, happened.”
“What’d she say?”
Sven leveled his gaze on Lars. “She knew about Erik. That you had news about Erik.”
A sharp intake of breath. “How could she know that?”
“I have no idea,” Sven answered. “I wondered that myself. But then everything went to hell and I didn’t have a chance to ask you.”
“Did Alitta touch you?”
“That’s a strange question.” He gave Lars a hard stare. “She kissed me. Why?”
His guard cursed and started to pace, his fists clenched at his sides. “That bitch.”
“What?”
“Martin tested that piece of bandage that he found on Bryn’s arm. It held some version of the toxins that were on that arrow. My guess is that Alitta put it on you somewhere and Bryn accidentally rubbed it off when she cradled you.”
Sven gave a small smile. “She saves me more and more.” He reached for his clothes. “So do we assume that Alitta is working with Magnus? Or had something to do with the assassination attempt?”
“We have to consider everything. But for now, the Council will be breathing down your neck about the ritual. You could lose your title if you do not mate.”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Sven said after a beat. “I would not want to have a child with Alitta and marriage would have been impossible.”
Lars raised a brow. “And what do you suggest then?”
Sven hesitated. The image of dark eyes in fire returned. “Maybe the answer is already here.”
Lars stiffened. “Don’t even think about Bryn. She’s not of suitable lineage nor could she possibly produce the appropriate heir.”
“Maybe lineage isn’t everything,” Sven murmured even though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. “Besides, we know there’s something different about her, even if she doesn’t know it herself.”
But Lars’s scowl wasn’t supportive. And they only had a couple days before the Visionary Council expected him to fulfill his obligations or be removed.
Sven’s throat tightened. He had fought, bled, and nearly died for his crown. To lose it now would strip away not just his future, but everything he’d sacrificed to protect.
Three days.
He closed his eyes as the clock ticked.