Page 11 of Crowned

But I didn’t. I let her go, trusting that whatever it was, she knew what she was doing.

I regret that now.

I don’t know how long I stand there, in the midst of the trees, my thoughts swirling. The stillness is suffocating.

Finally, I take a deep breath, pushing the fear down again.

If I don’t find her, I don’t know what I’ll do. But I won’t give up. Not until she’s back in my arms.

I turn, my eyes still darting around the darkening forest. I won’t stop. I can’t.

Please, Malia…come back.

Bhodi collapses right as Elder Mirra finishes speaking, crumpling to the ground with a thud that reverberates through the chamber.

“Bhodi!” I shout, my voice cracking with desperation.

My heart lurches, and I drop to my knees beside him, panic surging through me as his eyes roll back in his head.

The healer, who was tending to Bhodi just moments before, immediately kneels beside me, her hands trembling as she checks for a pulse. Her face pales, and she looks up at us with wide eyes. “His heart has stopped.”

A cold dread washes over me. “Do something!” I yell, my voice rising in urgency.

Without wasting another second, the healer begins chest compressions, her hands pressing down on Bhodi’s chest rhythmically. If I hadn’t spent so much time in the human world, I wouldn’t have known what she was doing. Our people never need chest compressions. We always heal with magic.

Her expression is strained with the fear that we might lose him. I’m frozen in place, helplessness clawing at my insides.

I glance at Cove, whose face mirrors my own horror. We can’t lose Bhodi, not after everything we’ve been through. We need him.

Minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity, as the healer works tirelessly, her movements becoming more frantic. Bhodi’s wound, which had been healing under her care, suddenly reopens, blood seeping through the makeshift bandages. The healer’s eyes widen in alarm. “We need to get him to the hospital. Now!” she cries.

The Elders immediately spring into action, directing us to the nearby medical facility within the city. Cove and I lift Bhodi carefully, carrying him between us as we rush through the corridors. The council chamber building, once a place of grandeur and tranquillity, now feels like a labyrinth of despair. Every corner, every hallway, echoes with our frantic footsteps and the healer’s urgent instructions.

We burst through the doors of the hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting me as we enter. The staff inside react instantly, a team of medics rushing to take Bhodi from us and place him on a gurney. They wheel him away, and I feel a part of myself being torn as I watch him disappear down the corridor.

Cove and I follow closely, our breaths ragged, our minds racing with fear and uncertainty. We reach the operating room, and a doctor steps in front of us, blocking our path. “You need to stay out here,” she says firmly, her eyes filled with compassion and authority. “We’ll do everything we can for him.”

I nod numbly, unable to find my voice. Cove places a hand on my shoulder, comforting me, silently supporting me. We stand there, side by side, staring at the closed doors, praying for a miracle.

Time drags on, each second feeling like a lifetime, though it could be mere minutes. I can hear the faint sounds of the medics working on Bhodi, the beeping of machines, the hushed murmurs of the staff. It’s torture, this waiting, this not knowing. My mind races with thoughts of what could go wrong, what we’ll do if we lose him.

Finally, the doors swing open, and the doctor emerges, her face a mask of exhaustion and grim determination. “We managed to resuscitate him,” she says, her voice steady but tinged with weariness. “But his condition is critical. We had to stitch the wound closed, but it’s not healing as it should.”

“Why?” I ask, my voice hoarse, my throat tight with emotion.

The doctor sighs, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes. “The wound was made, we believe, by a blade tipped with Shikari blood. It’s toxic to our kind, makes healing nearly impossible – especially using magic. We’ve done all we can for now, but we need to monitor him closely. It’s a waiting game at this point, to see if his body can fight the poison on its own.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Shikari blood. Of course. Their venomous essence, a blight on our kind. I swallow hard, trying to process this information, to hold onto some shred of hope.

“Can we see him?” Cove asks tentatively.

The doctor nods, leading us into the room where Bhodi lies. He’s hooked up to various machines, his face pale, his breathing shallow. It’s a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively brother I know. I move to his bedside, taking his hand in mine, noting the coolness of his skin.

“We’re here, Bhodi,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “We’re not leaving you.”

Cove stands beside me, silent but supportive. We stay there, watching over him, willing him to fight, to come back to us.

As the hours pass, the hospital room becomes a bubble of tense anticipation. The medics come and go, checking on the patient, adjusting the machines, their faces a blend of professionalism and concern. Cove and I barely speak, our focus entirely on my fallen brother, our thoughts a chaotic mix of fear, hope, and desperation.

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