Page 30 of Polestar
“Sweetheart, anyone who gets hypothermia from a rainstorm is frail,” Magnus rounded on her, brows furrowed.
“Well… I…” She crossed her arms.“Whatever, I don’t want to go anyway, so it’s a moot point.”
“Want to or not.Your orders are to go to Barentia and pretend to be Magnus’ bride-to-be if his kinsman doesn’t wake up to explain what the hell he was doing on that ship.”
“Bride-to-be…”Magnusgrumbledashe sat next to Aksel’s hospital bed, which had been set up in a room at Kane’s estate.GPSA medics that knew how to handle shifter physiology closely monitored him.
Despite the ridiculous proposal, the underlying seriousness of Aksel’s state was undeniable.He was alive—barely, but he wasn’t healing either.
Magnus studied the younger man’s bruised face.He’d been carefully cleaned up, his broken leg encased in a cast.The grime had obscured many cuts and bruises, testament to the fact he’d been beaten—severely.Many times.
Magnus swallowed hard.Aksel was still a kid the last time they’d seen each other, and it hadn’t been a happy parting.
Obviously.There was nothing happy about a banishment where everyone was expected to treat the banished like a pariah as they cast him out, hurling objects and bitter words.
Before that day, Aksel had been like Magnus’ own little brother.He’d certainly loved him like he was his blood.
Blood didn’t matter anymore.Nor did kinship.None of those things existed in Magnus’ world since he’d been cast out.
I can’t go back.
His father had ensured that.
He rubbed a hand over his face and beard, scrubbing the memories away as he moved to sit in the chair at the foot of Aksel’s bed.
Why the fuck was Aksel on that ship?He wasn’t human—he was a powerful member of Barentia’s polar bear shifter clan.So how is it possible for him to even be in this state?Prone, vulnerable and near death, unable to heal, let alone awaken and tell Magnus what happened to him.
Even when Magnus had experienced the worst of the worst in clan life by being banished, no matter what they’d thrown at him, or insults they’d hurled, he’d still had his physical strength to keep him alive, alone in the frozen northern wastelands.
When he’d almost died of starvation, or drowning from swimming for days, exhausted, he’d still healed.
Aksel wasn’t healing.
Why?
Magnus’ gaze swept over Aksel’s prone form.The blanket covered most of his body, leaving his clan markings visible above it.A mixture of his Matochkin home clan and Barentian adoptive clan.
Magnus swallowed down the long-buried homesickness that threatened to rise.He hadn’t seen such familiar body art, other than his own, in a decade.
As he looked at the young man’s exposed tattoos, Magnus noticed one that stood out, stark and fresh on the base of his throat, but partially obscured by his thick beard.
Magnus rose from his chair and approached the bed, bending to inspect Aksel’s throat.
His stomach dropped, his heart stopped, and he closed his eyes.
Fuck.
Leaning on the rail at the foot of the bed, he forced himself upright.
He gave himself a moment to collect his despair and his rage before reaching for his phone to call Kane.
“We’ve got a problem.A big one.”
NINE
Anaglancedatthetext that flashed across her phone, which lay on her bed while she dried her hair and sighed.
‘Meet in my office asap.’
