Page 101 of Heart of the High King
“I agree. I mean I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, but I suppose that’s natural.”
“I brought some cards,” Dravyn revealed. Pushing a table from the wall in front of Aleksander, he dealt from his deck.
“What’re we playing?” Brogan asked.
“I didn’t think to bring chips, so we’re going to start with Go Fish.”
“Thank goodness Dra’Kaedan and Renny are part of the healing team,” Brogan murmured. “They’re too cutthroat for this game.”
“Your mate takes everything to the next level,” Aleksander told him, picking up his cards and organizing them in his hand.
“He is next level just like yours. When Rafe got to the house, I was surprised that he’d survived the attack when I saw the condition he was in, but man, I had no idea just how strong he is. I can’t get those pictures out of my mind,” Brogan replied.
“Me neither, and trust me, my dragon is still pissed. Once we get Rafe back to normal, I intend to give more attention to the parties responsible for hurting him,” Aleksander vowed, careful not to reveal who the guilty were.
The dragons played cards while other members of the D’Vaire family—extended and immediate—flowed in and out of the room. Unwilling to disturb the hospital or its other patients, and because Brogan would lose his mind if he had to protect them all, the ones that lived under Aleksander’s roof arrived in small groups with snacks, the missing poker chips, and smiling faces. By the time lunch rolled around, Aleksander was growing pensive. It was nearly three hours since Rafe had been put under anesthesia, and he was worried that they were pushing him beyond his limits. When the door opened to reveal a frowning Dr. Suricata, his heart clenched, and without realizing it Aleksander rose.
“Your Highness, please sit,” Dr. Suricata invited. “We need to discuss your mate.”
“Call me Aleksander. How’s he doing?”
“He’s held up well under the anesthesia. His vitals have been stable, which is why I’ve allowed his healing to go on for so long but, the fact is, progress has been slow, and we’re starting to see some serious issues. The darkfallen are moving cautiously and we’ve managed to remove what we believe is the bulk of the skin grafts—even those that had remnants left behind after failing. What I’m trying to tell you is, that although we’re getting closer, he’s been bleeding steadily for hours. I don’t want to allow him to get into any kind of crisis, so I want your permission to give him a transfusion. It’s the only way I believe we’re going to be able to finish, and I’m concerned about him going into shock if we don’t act swiftly.”
“Rafe was very specific about not wanting a blood transfusion.”
“I understand that, and I respect that decision. However, he did sign a consent form stating that he agreed to it if it became medically necessary. We’re at that point.”
Rather panicky about the idea of Rafe getting the transfusion he didn’t want, Aleksander wasn’t going to fight Dr. Suricata and keep his mate from getting what she felt was a medical necessity. “Okay, does that mean he’ll be out soon?”
“My hope is that we can at least get these hip wounds completely closed. We’ve had Saura on one side and T’Eirick on the other, restoring muscle, tendon, bone, and vessels. If your blood boosts his system as I predict it will, we may be able to push a little further. I just can’t say yet.”
“Do what you have to do.”
Dr. Suricata rose after patting Aleksander’s knee. “We’re taking great care of him, I promise. We’re going to do the transfusion as soon as I return to the operating room. I will be back to give you an update when I can.”
“Thanks so much.”
“My pleasure. Rafe’s a fighter, which makes me push that much harder for him. I’ll see you soon.”
Once she was gone, Aleksander rubbed a hand over his face. “He’s also going to shit a brick when he wakes up.”
∞∞∞
Brogan was a man on the edge. For centuries, Aleksander had kept himself mostly confined to the house, and Brogan doubted anyone had been more shocked than he when his mate showed up at the gate. In his most honest moments, Brogan would also confess that it was still a surprise that Aleksander was gay, though he had zero doubt in his mind about the way the High King felt about his other half. Aleksander and Rafe had progressed cautiously from a friendship into the beginnings of something with great potential when, they now knew, the worst had happened.
If Brogan had ever doubted the depth of emotion Aleksander had for Rafe, as they sat in a waiting room in a hospital while he underwent surgery, his anxiety was written plainly on his handsome face. Not only was Brogan worried that somehow Rafe might be hurt further, he had the unenviable task of seeing to the safety of both men. For Brogan, whose relationship with Aleksander had spanned nearly his entire life, it meant not only physically ensuring neither High King was harmed but seeing to their emotional distress as well. Although he wasn’t close to Rafe yet, he had every intention of building a bond with him as soon as Aleksander’s mate was able to heal from everything he’d suffered. In the meantime, just like Aleksander, Brogan was left with waiting and losing at cards to Worth.
As a highly competitive person, Brogan frowned when Worth once again pulled the chips from the center of the table and added them to his enormous stack. While most people got stuck on how much he resembled his older brother, Worth was also crafty with numbers like Aleksander. Brogan’s gaze narrowed as he considered the possibility that Worth was counting cards to win so often.
Lifting an elbow, he nudged Aleksander. “Your turn.”
“Uh, Aleksander…you okay?” Mac asked, his voice wary. The High King was sitting absolutely still, which was concerning enough, but what made Brogan’s mind reel were his eyes.
“Aleksander, you need to relax. Rafe’s going to be fine. Come on, it’s too dangerous for you to let your dragon have any control in here,” Brogan stated firmly and waited for his orbs to switch back to his human ones instead of the wise and determined stare of his beast.
“Come along, Aleksander, listen to Brogan. Just relax,” Worth coaxed.
Aleksander’s cards fluttered out of his hands and he got to his feet. The skin of his arms rippled for a few seconds into the black-blue scales of his mighty beast.
