Chapter 10 #5
"I've already disposed of the bodies outside. Let me grab my tools so we can seal these windows with plastican." Krevan returned moments later, his complexion ashen beneath the kitchen lights.
Ancelin's stomach knotted. "You shouldn't be doing this now. The doctor said I needed to feed you first to restore your strength."
"The doctor worries too much." Krevan pressed his palm against the wall to steady himself. "We can't eat with snow blowing through our kitchen. This won't take long." He handed her a corner of the translucent material. "Hold this taut."
The wind fought them, whipping the plastican and numbing their fingers, but Krevan worked methodically, layering the material until it formed a solid barrier. Ancelin followed behind with the vacuum, erasing all traces of snow and shattered glass.
"Could you hang some sheets for extra insulation?" he asked, his voice noticeably weaker.
"I'll handle everything. You need to lie down."
"Just... be careful on that chair. And perhaps some food when you have a moment?"
"Food first, then sheets. Now go rest before you collapse."
Krevan dragged himself up the stairs, each step a visible effort.
Ancelin's stomach lurched, and she bolted to the bathroom where she retched until nothing remained but dry heaves that left her trembling.
She splashed cold water on her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
A pale woman with frightened eyes looked back.
"He'll be fine," she whispered to herself, though the image of the laser wound in his abdomen flashed in her mind. The doctor didn’t seem worried, but what did she really know about Triaxen physiology? About their limits?
She pressed a cool cloth to her forehead, wiping away beads of sweat. Someone would come looking for that crystal eventually. The thought of more violence, more danger to Krevan, made her stomach threaten to rebel again.
"Later," she told her reflection firmly. "Deal with that later."
In the kitchen, she assembled four tartis roast sandwiches and brewed a pot of coffee, her hands moving with purpose. When she carried the tray into the bedroom, her heart seized. Krevan lay sprawled face-down across the bed, blood still crusting his clothes.
"Krevan," she called, setting down the tray. "You need to eat."
He mumbled something unintelligible.
"Please," she urged, "sit up. The doctor said you need food."
He rolled over with a groan, struggling to push himself upright. Ancelin wedged her shoulder under his arm, but his massive frame barely budged under her support.
Ancelin watched Krevan struggle to sit up, her hands hovering near his shoulders. "Let me help you," she whispered. When he finally perched on the edge of the bed, she eased his blood-stained shirt over his head. The skin beneath was nearly unmarked.
"You need to eat." She pressed the sandwich to his lips. "Please. When I saw you fall, I thought—" Her voice cracked. "I can't lose you too."
"I'll heal," Krevan said, taking the food from her trembling fingers. "The food and some coffee, and relaxation will do the rest."
“Not too much coffee.” Ancelin suddenly bolted into the bathroom. Her stomach heaved violently, emptying itself of nothing. She gripped the toilet bowl, her knuckles white, when warm hands gathered her hair back.
"I heard you earlier downstairs," Krevan murmured, easing beside her on the edge of the tub. "The sandwich helped me. But you—is this shock or illness?"
Unable to speak, Ancelin could only shrug. Krevan held her until the spasms subsided, then carried her back to their bed. They undressed in silence. He finished the remaining sandwich and drained his coffee before sliding under the covers beside her.
In the dim light, they faced each other. Ancelin's eyelids grew heavy, but sleep brought no peace—only visions of Krevan falling, of blood on snow, of being utterly alone. She woke with a gasp to find him stroking her hair.
"We're safe now," he whispered.
"But they'll come back." Tears streamed down her face. "I can't do this anymore."
"Quiet now," he whispered, his lips brushing her hair.
"The storm buys us time. Whoever sent those men won't know they've failed for days, and even then, the journey here isn't quick.
The snow hides us—and their vehicles too, for now.
" His fingers traced circles on her shoulder.
"We might need to leave Verrian once I reach my father. We'll decide then."
Ancelin's tears dampened his chest. "I've brought this danger to your door, to your family. Everything I touch turns to—"
"No." Krevan tilted her chin up, his eyes finding hers in the dim light.
"Before you, I was just surviving. Now I'm living.
" His voice dropped lower. "You’re mine, and I’m yours.
None of this is your burden to carry alone.
" He pressed his lips to the curve where her neck met her shoulder, then grazed the skin with his teeth, making her shiver against him.
"Stop that," Ancelin whispered, pushing his lips from her shoulder. "The doctor said you need to conserve your strength and your venom."
Krevan's mouth returned to her skin. "I'm programmed to comfort my mate. Come, let's sleep. Another hour and I'll be recovered."
Ancelin's stomach lurched. She pressed a hand against it.
"Need the bathroom again?" Krevan asked, his arm tightening around her waist. "Just say the word. Though it's likely just shock. Your body processing what your mind can't yet. Natural reaction."
***
When Ancelin opened her eyes next, the bed beside her was empty. She showered quickly and descended the stairs to find Krevan stretching to hang sheets over the plastican-covered windows.
"I told you I'd do that," she said, her voice tight with worry.
"Morning, beautiful." Krevan's arms encircled her waist, drawing her close.
"The sheets are up. It didn’t take but a minute.
" His eyes, clearer than yesterday, searched her face.
"You needed that sleep. How's the stomach?
Outside's still a whiteout—SatView's dead, comms too.
Just us and these four walls for entertainment.
" The corner of his mouth lifted in suggestion.
Ancelin leaned into his chest. "Doctor's orders, remember? No... exertion and no sex." Her fingers traced the nearly invisible marks where his wounds had been. "Are you really better? And next time, let me help with something. I'm not completely useless around here."
"Eighty-five, ninety percent recovered." His palm slid down the curve of her back, settling possessively. "I’m much better. The doctor doesn’t realize my recovery abilities. I'm thinking we don’t have to wait much longer." His touch lingered, warm through the thin fabric of her clothes.
Ancelin swallowed hard and pressed her palm against her forehead. "Everything's spinning."
Krevan's brow furrowed. "Still nauseous?"
"Haven't stopped since those men broke in." She leaned against the counter. "Probably just nerves, like you said."
"Maybe." His voice was noncommittal.
A howl tore around the house, making the plastican shudder. Ancelin hugged herself. "Thank god for modern materials. We'd be buried in snow otherwise."
Krevan's eyes remained fixed on the temporary barrier.
"Once communications are back, I need to contact my father.
But we'll have to be careful—SatView, Satphone—they could be monitoring everything now that they've found you.
We might need to bring in Triaxe authorities, maybe even Earth government.
" He turned to face her. "Whatever your father's crystal is, it's valuable enough for murder.
We need to be extremely cautious with it. "
"My father wouldn't have put me in harm's way. Not deliberately."
"Maybe not intentionally," Krevan said, running his fingers through his hair, "but this crystal has left a trail of bodies behind it.
We don't even know for sure what it does.
" He glanced toward the window where the plastican rippled against the howling wind.
"I can't protect you alone against whoever's hunting it.
We might need official protection—my father's connections.
He's digging into your father's research as we speak. "
Ancelin's fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. "What if it's not mercenaries? What if it's a government that's after us?"
"No, I wouldn’t think the governments of Triaxe or Earth would approach obtaining the crystal, like common criminals.
They would be more direct and demand you turn it over in a different way.
They may use threat to encourage compliance, but not deadly force.
At least not to begin with, that is my gut opinion. ”
“Well, I need to eat and relax for now,” Ancelin interrupted. “Let’s talk about this later. I need a break from this for the moment. I need to feel better, too.”
Ancelin prepared a delicious meal. They ate together in silence, and after they cleaned up, they worked in the office on their various individual projects.
Hours passed and turned into days, and the weather continued to be outrageous.
Ancelin’s queasiness grew worse. Krevan was much improved.
When they slept, Krevan merely held her in his arms. Ancelin enjoyed the physical intimacy they shared.
Their bond seemed to strengthen further.
They were both tired and spent a lot of time sleeping or huddled under their bedding.
No matter how much sleep Ancelin got, she continued to feel sleepy and easily worn out.
Sometimes the wind battered the house so fiercely its walls groaned under the strain.
Somehow, the plastic-covered windows held fast. They conserved power wherever they could, and Krevan spent every spare moment trying to restore communications.
On the fourth day of their isolation, Krevan decided to drive out to the barns to check on the animals, with Ancelin insisting on accompanying him.