Page 67 of Caress of Fire
And as he sat at the table and bent over his work, concentration plain as day on his face, Marielle knew that everything she did—everything she would still do—was worth it.
Because she wasn’t just Devan’s lifeline. He was hers, too.
“Your love isn’t the only one.” Marielle knew she was hurting him but she said the words anyway. Fedryc had to know. “You don’t understand because you don’t have a family. But Devan’s life is more important than your feelings. More important than keeping me safe. And if you truly loved me, you’d understand that. If you truly loved me, then you’d understand and you would have saved him long before.”
Seconds passed and turned to minutes in a dead silence. Marielle was vaguely aware of Dr. Ylco asking her to leave again but they both ignored him. Silver eyes bored deep into hers and a world of pain stood between them like a wall.
“And I guess you don’t understand that losing you will kill me.” Fedryc spoke with a pain so raw it broke her heart. “That even the idea of you being hurt makes me unable to do my duties as High Lord. That without you, life isn’t worth living. Is that the love you’re talking about?” He didn’t give her time to answer. He turned from her and looked at Dr. Ylco. “Marielle will stay with her brother. Do everything you can.”
Fedryc turned and left, but not before calling four more guards at the door to the medical room. As his stiff back disappeared around the turn of the hallway, Marielle’s hand lifted to call him back. But it was too late.
Behind her, Devan’s screams started anew, and the world was swallowed in misery.
Chapter 22
She hadn’t spoken to Fedryc in two days, and her heart was about to blow open and spill out of her chest. Marielle reached down to her stomach and she clutched the fabric over the soft secret that bloomed there. She wasn’t sure, not yet, but her tide hadn’t come as it was supposed to and she could only hope. Despite all the pain and fear that surrounded her, she clutched that fabric with all the stubbornness she was capable of.
Devan was still unconscious, and there was little Dr. Ylco could tell her apart from that his life was still in danger. There was no telling if he would wake up or take a turn for the worse. The infection that had taken hold in his wounds was vicious, invading his bloodstream in a life-threatening way called sepsis. If they had found Devan even hours later, he would be dead, about that Dr. Ylco had been quite clear.
One other thing that was for certain was that Rela was in love with her brother. She had insisted on sleeping next to Devan and spent every waking minute carefully caring for him, although there was little they could do. Nourishment was sent directly into Devan’s bloodstream from tubes hanging from the ceiling, as well as the nanites that fought the infection cell by cell. Only once that process was complete could Dr. Ylco close the open wounds under the blood-stained bandages that covered Devan’s entire back and face, plus parts of his arms and legs.
He didn’t look like the boy who had run to her with his scraped knees and runny nose. He looked like a lump of flesh crying for mercy.
“He’s waking up.” Rela turned to Marielle as Devan whimpered under the bandages covering his eyes and mouth, leaving only two holes for his nostrils.
Marielle stared as Rela got up from her bed and walked the two steps to Devan, pain twisting her features as she did so. Rela was healing nicely from the merciless beating she had taken, but the road to recovery would be long. Dr. Ylco had done everything he could for her, fixing broken bones and repairing the hemorrhage in her brain, but the pain and bruises would only subside in time.
Dr. Ylco walked quickly to Devan’s side, a medical injection device in his hands. As soon as the clear fluid entered Devan’s bloodstream, the whimpers ceased and Devan fell back into blessed oblivion. Devan’s pain, although still horrible, had been greatly diminished since Dr. Ylco had decided his condition had improved enough to put him under a heavy sedation that bordered on a coma. It was humane but it made Marielle want to scream mindlessly as she was unable to talk to him.
She wasn’t sure she could take what he would have to say, anyway. After what he had been through, she knew Devan would not be the same. He might even be another man altogether. If his mind was still intact.
No. Don’t think that. Never that.
But the thoughts were there, as stubborn as anything, whispering inside her skull, slithering past her defenses like snakes. Because as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that the boy she loved might be broken, gone beyond where she could reach him.
“My Lord.” Dr. Ylco turned, the injection device still in his hand. His face remained calm but Marielle recognized the signs of fear in the man she had come to know in this short time. He wasn’t the cold, uncaring man she had thought at first. He was dedicated in a quiet, efficient way, and his tireless efforts had saved both Rela and Devan’s lives.
Marielle looked around, swiveling on the chair to see Fedryc, standing in the doorway. His appearance blindsided her and she stood up on unsteady feet, her eyes glued to his face. He had aged years in the span of a few days, and his features had hardened. His eyes were underscored with dark circles and his cheeks were hollow. His shoulders were stiff and square as his eyes settled on her. The corner of his mouth moved but his expression remained grim.
“How are your patients?” Fedryc’s tone was cold and his eyes left Marielle to rest once again on Dr. Ylco.
“Rela is doing much better. I expect to release her from my care next week at the latest.” Dr. Ylco walked over to Fedryc, his face closed off and his eyes careful as he glanced at Marielle in passing. He spoke lower when he was closer, but she could still hear him clearly. “The young man is another matter. The infection in the surface wounds is going down rapidly, but the blood infection is still not under control. The next day or so will be critical. He’s either going to improve or get worse. He could go either way.”
Fedryc stared hard at the doctor but his expression held no hostility. There was no need for it. Dr. Ylco had proved his dedication long ago.
“What?” Fedryc frowned as Dr. Ylco stayed in front of him. “Is there something else?”
“If I could talk to you in private, my Lord.” Dr. Ylco shot a glance over his shoulder at Marielle and she blinked, uncomprehending. Her eyes met Fedryc’s and he turned his gaze to the doctor.
“Whatever you have to say, say it in front of Marielle.” Fedryc lifted his chin when Dr. Ylco hesitated, and Marielle frowned.
“The Lady Marielle needs to rest,” Dr. Ylco finally answered. “She cannot keep going the way she is.”
Fedryc frowned, but did not reply.
“She’s on the verge of collapse from exhaustion.” Dr. Ylco’s voice boomed, rising with his own passion. “Lady Marielle hasn’t slept since her brother was brought in. I could barely get her to eat a piece of fruit yesterday before going down to sleep myself. If she goes on like this, she’ll be in one of my beds as a patient by the end of the day.”
Fedryc paused, locking gazes with the doctor for a long time, until the Delradon man shifted his weight from one foot to the other in rapid succession. Then Fedryc looked over the doctor’s head and directly at Marielle. Fedryc walked around the doctor, who watched him as he would a lion, like he was ready to run for his life at the first sight of threat. Not many men could confront the High Lord and live to tell the tale.
