Page 12 of The Emerald Dragon Prince
“I cannot heal him as he is,” Mother said a moment later, changing my entire opinion of her.
I frowned in frustration, balling my hands into fists at my sides. “Cannot or will not?” I demanded.
Still, Mother showed no signs of being perturbed or upset by my anger. “His body cannot heal because someone has paused him.”
I sucked in a breath and released my clenched fists and a great deal of emotion with them. Of course! Rumi’s body couldn’t knit back together because I had paused it. I had frozen every cell of generation within him so that our egg remained in a freshly conceived state. I’d had no idea that would stop everything else as well.
Without another word, I turned and knelt by Rumi’s side. I placed my hands on his body once more and reached into him, finding my old spell and breaking it with ease.
As soon as the spell broke, Rumi sucked in a loud breath, his eyes going wide. His entire body convulsed, and a moment later, his face contorted in pain as he hugged his wounded torso.
It was heartening, but I was once again completely exhausted and could do nothing but flop against the bed.
“Mother?” I appealed to her.
With a bright, tender smile, Mother placed one hand on me and one on Rumi. I felt the warm rush of her all-powerful magic encompass both of us, independently and together.
Slowly but certainly, every bit of exhaustion drained away from me. The minor muscles strains and a few cuts I’dreceived during the battle and before faded away. My body felt stronger and more vibrant than it had in years.
Better still, through the bond, I could feel Rumi gaining in strength as well. I lifted enough to watch as the sword wound I’d laid bare when I pushed aside his tunic closed up and fused back together. Even the blood disappeared and his clothing cleaned and repaired itself.
Within a minute, Rumi was resting comfortably, his body fixed and his dirty battle clothes transformed into soft, silk pajamas in a light shade of green. My darling mate breathed out a sleepy sigh and rested one hand absently on his stomach before dropping off into a deep, healing sleep.
“Thank you,” I told my mother from the bottom of my heart, standing to hug her.
I came away from the hug completely clean and restored in body.
“Tell me what has caused your omega’s wound,” Mother said, stepping down to the end of the bed and bidding me to sit there with her.
It felt strange and awkward to sit on the foot of the bed for a chat with my mother when Rumi was still sleeping through recovery from a wound that had nearly killed him. My mind still raced with battle readiness. I could hardly sit still, and only when I rested a hand on one of my mate’s bare feet did I feel anything close to calm.
“The battle between Lord Osric and King Freslik’s forces for control of the kingdom has begun,” I told Mother, racing through my thoughts to recall everything that had happened before my world had almost imploded. “Osric’s forces well outmatched Freslik’s, but as we had been warned, there was a traitor in Osric’s camp, a dark sorcerer, who turned Osric’s men against each other.”
“A dark sorcerer?” Mother asked, curious despite the eternal calm that always radiated from her.
“Yes,” I said, shifting to face her more fully, though I kept one hand on Rumi. “Whoever he is, he has allied himself with Freslik and is working for him.”
“For what aim?” Mother asked.
“I don’t know for certain,” I said with a shrug and a shake of my head. “What is it that the wicked want most of the time? Power? Gold? Dominance?”
“And yet, those things never bring happiness when they are sought after for their own ends,” Mother said with a sad sigh. “It is a pity that so many believe those things to be the only ones of any value.”
I agreed with her, but the sense of urgency within me prevented me from sighing along with her, as if we were having tea in her garden throne room.
“Freslik has an unfair advantage in this war, Mother,” I went on, knowing I had to be convincing to make my case. “He is employing magic to win, and so far, he will almost certainly be victorious. He will be victorious unless you release my brothers and I from the restrictions you have placed on us not to use magic in this conflict.”
Mother smiled sadly and reached out a hand to rest on the side of my face. “Ah, my darling boy. You know I cannot do that.”
Her simple words and the goodness with which she said them made my stomach drop.
“Mother,” I pleaded with her, “while I most definitely appreciate your intentions in forbidding us from using magic in the cruel world to win this war, I am now convinced that we won’t be able to win without it.”
“But if you win with magic, it cannot truly be considered a victory,” Mother said.
I was only just able to stop myself from growling in frustration. Now was not the time for a philosophical debate of ethics. “We need to use magic,” I said. “We are not powerful enough to defeat Freslik without it.”
“You were on the verge of victory without magic before this dark sorcerer joined with Freslik,” Mother pointed out. “You have proven to yourself that you do not truly need to bend and break the rules in order to triumph.”
