Page 59 of Caged

She coughs, rasping like Maxym after a night out in Tatatunga.

I wish Maxym were here. He has healing knowledge he picked up somewhere, so he’d know what to do.

“I am not closing my eyes, not until you are better,” I say emphatically.

She closes her eyes and leans back against the pillows in our nest, her breath seemingly painful.

“I’d very much like to be better,” she says weakly with a wince. “It’ll probably pass. I’ve always been a bit allergic to insectbites and things.” Alex opens her eyes. “Which isn’t exactly ideal in a forest, I suppose.”

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go alone. There’s very little which can get through my thick hide.” I cuddle into her. She’s still too hot and yet her body trembles like she’s cold.

“Don’t say that.” She leans into my side. “It’s not your fault, and as for having a thick skin, it’s useful even if they did hurt you when they gave you your abilities.”

I love it when she calls what was done to me at the farm “abilities,” as if they are part of me and nothing to be ashamed of.

Alex is not ashamed of me and says I should be proud of my healing and strength.

“Let me look at the sting again,” I say.

“I’m tired, Sylas,” she replies with a sigh.

“I can look after you,” I growl. “No one needs to be near you. No one but me.”

“Okay.” Her eyes close. “Whatever you think is best,” she whispers.

Her skin is deathly pale, and when I push aside the blanket, the dark stain on her side has spread. She is far sicker than I thought.

“Alex, myeregri,” I murmur in her ear. “You need to stay awake for me.”

There is no response. Her body has gone entirely limp.

“Sweet mate?” I brush my lips over her skin.

It is cold.

Claws grip around my heart as surely as if they have been rammed into my chest.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

I need Alex to be able to breathe. To be able to live. To be.

“Please, my mate, don’t leave me,” I whisper in her ear.

There is no response. Her breathing is shallow, her heart beat is hardly even there. Alex is dying. She is dying unless I can find a healer.

The cold steel around my heart abates for an instant, enough for me to see, to know what I need to do. Despite everything, I have to take her to a healer. I have to leave our nest with her and find one. I can’t risk leaving her on her own.

But will moving her make it worse? The poison affecting her has been slow since she was still. Indecision chews at my stomach, making every part of me ache.

I can’t wait. I have to act or I will lose her.

Placing her unconscious body gently into the nest, I scan the room for what I need. In a flash, my claws have torn down some of the fabric over the window, and I wind it around myself before pulling Alex into my arms and tucking her inside.

With her safely stowed, I stride out onto the balcony, and I’m in the air, wings beating because her life depends on me.

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