Chapter Thirty-Three #2
It seemed like a foreign word for a Human familiar with marriage, but it felt right as I looked at Rhydek. He was more than the partner a husband was supposed to be. He was my guide to a new world, my translator, and my protector. He was part of me, anchored beside my heart.
Rhydek’s expression remained stiff, but the bond was full of emotions. Fear and relief. Awe and hope. He kept trying to smother it, but every time his eyes moved over my face or drifted to my stomach, the feelings surged again.
I knew he’d been terrified, I’d felt it, but now, with the panic gone, I could make out the layers beneath it. There was grief tangled with the fear, old and deep, and guilt so entrenched it wrapped around his bones.
I reached for his hand again, needing his touch as much as I knew he needed mine. I might have born the visible wounds, but both of us had damage that needed to heal.
“That feels like a generous assessment.”
“Survival often does.”
The healer moved around the table, sorting through a series of bottles, so I turned my attention back to Rhydek. I knew he hadn’t fully trusted Zharrek, and I needed to know he believed the wound wasn’t the varku’s fault.
“You and Zharrek saved me.”
Rhydek made a low sound in his throat that made me think he was offended to be lumped in with an animal he had considered feral and dangerous.
“He seems to have done the bulk of it.”
The memory of Zharrek’s tail driving through my attacker’s chest flashed through my mind, my face and shoulder throbbing.
“The person who attacked me was too close for a clean hit, but if he had hesitated, I’d have had two holes punched through me. I don’t think I’d have made it through that. But it was you who brought me here.”
“I should have been in the kennels with you.”
I might have contradicted him, but I took a moment to examine our bond. He knew as well as I that he couldn’t be with me every moment, and if it hadn’t happened then, it would have happened the first time I was alone.
“We need to figure out if my attackers were working alone or if it might happen again. You mentioned once that the first Humans who came were attacked?”
The Qy’shaeuhl returned to my side at that moment, stopping Rhydek from responding, but I wasn’t going to let the question drop. If it was only those three or if I was still in danger, I wanted to know.
“This jar contains cream that will allow the tissue of your arm and cheek to heal without preventing a scar from forming. The wound was deep enough there likely would have been a faint one anyway, but I don’t want you to leave it untreated due to cosmetic preferences.”
He placed the jar in my palm before holding out a cup.
“This is for the pain. It will also render you immobile until approximately dawn since I would prefer you not get any ideas about doing things for yourself once you’re out of my sight.”
For a moment I stared at him, both shocked and impressed.
I could think of many times when I had wished I could temporarily paralyze a patient, but most of my options hadn’t been safe enough to use.
Having the paralytic mixed with the pain meds was also an annoyingly effective way to be sure they weren’t refused.
“What are the possible risks?”
He cocked his head and studied me with one large eye.
“There are none.”
Raising a brow, I scoffed. There was no such thing as a medication without side effects.
“None?”
His head bobbed and he pushed the cup closer.
“None. It blocks peripheral nerves without affecting the nerves that control organ function. You will be able to breath and even speak, without the use of anything below your cervical spine.”
Shrugging, I took the cup and gave it a cautious sniff. It didn’t smell bitter like I’d expected it to, but I also couldn’t recognize what might have been in it. It was earthy but held a hint of spice.
Sucking in a deep breath, I put it to my lips and tipped it back, trying to get it all down at once in case the flavor was as bad as I imagined it might be, but as it passed over my tongue and down my throat, all I tasted was something similar to grass.
“You may return to your home now. I will come to you in the morning to check your progress. I have a few tests I need to run to make sure there is nothing that will complicate your recovery, and the results will be ready by then as well.”
I was a little surprised to be getting sent home when I’d been near death what seemed like only a few minutes ago, but I had to admit I didn’t feel as bad as I’d have thought I should.
I had heard the Qy’shaeuhl had unsurpassed healing abilities, and despite the lack of technology in Korvashan, the results were mind-blowing.
“Okay.”
I had barely shifted forward before Rhydek was growling at me, turning to cage me in with his body. Even injured, I couldn’t help responding to the dominant position.
“You will relax and let me do everything. If you so much as lift a hand I will tie it to the bed.”
A pulse of warmth spread through me, starting from my middle. I opened my mouth to say something that likely would have made him growl more, intending to place my hand on his chest, but when my palm remained against my leg, my jaw shut with a snap.
“This is why the paralytic is necessary.”
It was my turn to growl, deciding perhaps the Qy’shaeuhl’s voice wasn’t quite as beautiful as I’d first thought. Rhydek slid his arms beneath me, and a moment later I was leaning against his chest, able to hold my head up but otherwise limp.
“This is…”
I couldn’t even think of a word to combine the unfairness and wonder I felt.
“She will behave. I’ll make sure of it.”
It was strange to be moved around like a doll without being able to feel his touch. I was grateful to no longer have the pain I’d woken with, but I wasn’t sure I was happy about not being able to experience Rhydek’s heat soaking into me.
It wasn’t long before he was striding through the dim tunnels with me in his arms. If I had been capable of stiffening I would have ached from the anxiety riding me as I peered into shadows, and I decided not being able to control by body was a good thing after all.
For the moment.
Rhydek was silent through the walk, but I could feel churning within the bond. He was torn over something, and while I wanted to pry it out of him, I swallowed the urge and waited for him to decide if he would share.
By the time we passed through the door to our home my emotions were fluctuating almost as much as his, but when he laid me in bed and covered me with one of my favorite sheets before dropping to the mattress beside me, everything in me stilled.
“When I lost Shaira, I vowed that I would never bond. That I would never claim an omega as my mate or put myself in a position where…”
He stopped, jaw flexing as he stared at the wall. I felt his struggle and wished I could take back what I had thought before. I would have accepted the pain to be able to take his hand once more.
“That’s why you fought so hard to push me away. I thought you didn’t want me, but you thought wanting me was dangerous.”
His laugh was soft and humorless, his eyes dull when he looked down at me.
“I knew it was.”
I couldn’t do anything more than arch a brow.
“No, you believed it was.”
There was so much pain in him I couldn’t understand how he’d managed to keep standing under its weight all these years, and I felt a flash of jealousy towards his lost love, but it was easy enough to shove aside when I reminded myself I was the one beside him now.
“I agreed to claim you knowing I had sworn I never would. I told myself it was duty. Necessity. I thought since you were different, Human, the bond wouldn’t work the way it would with another Morraki, and that I could keep enough distance not to break my oath in spirit, if not in law.”
His mouth twisted as he let out another huff.
“But I wanted you even before your heat. Before the kennels, and the River Caverns. I think I wanted you the moment I saw you. Your attention, your trust, made me willing to do anything for your happiness, but I still pushed you away and blamed you for what I lacked the discipline to control.”
His disgust with himself was like grit under my skin, but I didn’t stop him. An infection had to drain before it could heal, and his wound had festered for a long time.
“I was not a good mate to you, even after I knew I wanted to be.”
I would have smiled if the bond hadn’t been full of shame. Instead, I tried to open my end of the bond more and show him how I felt.
I knew he wasn’t waiting for absolution. He had already told me he wouldn’t ask for it, even though I would have given it freely. And he wasn’t waiting for me to argue him out of his guilt, to tell him he was wrong, or that none of it mattered.
Because none of that was true.
“It hurt.”
He recoiled as if I’d struck him, his presence in the bond retreating, but I refused to let him go.
“Pushing me away every time I thought we had a chance. Acting like I was a burden or just another item to check off your to-do list. Treating what started growing between us like it wasn’t real.”
I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t soften what he’d done. We were never going to move forward without honesty.
“It almost made me give up hope.”
His throat worked and I wanted more than anything to reach out to him as I kept going.
“But I knew it was all an act.”
Something crossed his face before disappearing again. Not relief exactly, but his kethra rippled in response.
“I know what it feels like to stay somewhere because honor makes leaving impossible. I know what it feels like to wake up every day and do the thing in front of you because there isn’t space to ask whether you want to.”
I let out a breath as I suppressed my own past wounds. It hurt when what you had thought would make you happy turned into your source of misery, but it was breathtaking when you found something that relit the flame that made you yearn for another day, and I had found that here.
“I could say I didn’t refuse the selection or the injection out of a sense of duty, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth.
Being selected by you was a lifeline when my world was going up in flames, and even if I hadn’t wanted it, it gave me purpose.
I told myself I was saving another reluctant woman from having to give up her life since I had nothing left to lose, but I hadn’t realized it meant I had everything to gain. ”
Rhydek was so still I wasn’t sure he was still breathing. His pupils had narrowed into thin slits, and even his tail had ceased the tiny strokes it usually made when it was wrapped around me.
“I found a new purpose here. A new home. A new life. I bit you first because I was scared you were going to refuse me at the last minute and take it all away. I didn’t want to lose everything again. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Rhydek jolted like he’d been smacked upside his head, his shock so sudden and bright it almost made me laugh. His fingers flexed around mine, squeezing so tight I actually felt it for a moment before he caught himself and eased his grip.
“Taryn…”
I cut him off, lowering my eyes because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hide the pain if I was wrong and he didn’t feel the same.
“You don’t have to say anything grand.”
I paused for a moment, picturing him in a suit holding a dozen roses as he tried to stammer though some foolish poem about love. The thought made me smile, and I didn’t bother trying to fight it.
“I just want you to tell me the past won’t get to keep you forever, and that I might have a chance to see what you being a good mate is since you think you’ve done a poor job so far. I’m not sure how you could get much better, but I’ll enjoy watching you try.”
Rhydek stared at me in something close to disbelief. Our kethra glowed so bright the room looked like we’d installed proper lights, and the bond pulsed between us. I felt how much he wanted to believe me, and how terrified he was that believing would doom me.
“You have been injured. You do not know what you are saying.”
I huffed. Some of the medications on Earth could have that effect, but I knew even Rhydek didn’t believe that excuse.
“That’s rich coming from the alpha who decided to claim me for eternity after I argued with him at a gala.”
A laugh escaped him. It was brief and so broken it made my chest ache, and then he leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine, cupping the cheek not marred by evidence of what I could survive.
“I don’t know how to prove I’m worthy of you.”
I let my eyes close, my chest vibrating with that warm contentment I’d come to associate with being in his arms.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something ridiculous.”
His breath gusted against my temple with his silent laughter. The bond pulsed with his amusement and agreement, and then with a tenderness so fierce it felt like it would rip straight through my chest.
When he pressed his lips to mine, he kissed me exactly how I’d wanted him to before. Slow and deliberate, like he understood I needed it to feel like a choice, not necessity.
He made no attempt to hide how it felt for him, and I would have traded anything to be able to put my arms around him, but I probably would have done things I shouldn’t.
I didn’t know whether to thank or curse the Qy’shaeuhl, but I settled for enjoying Rhydek’s attention as he stretched out beside me.
He adjusted the bedding around me with unnecessary care. I was still shaken, still bruised in places no one could bandage, and I knew the attack would follow me into my sleep. That loud footsteps and unfamiliar Morraki would make my pulse jump for a long time.
But I also knew I wasn’t enduring it alone.
And that mattered more than any scar ever could.