Page 63 of Wicked Thieves
As she yanked the arrow out, Aeric’s eyes widened as he released a guttural, pained sound through clenched teeth.
“We’re here, brother. We got you. You’ll be all right,” Idris murmured as he braced his hand against his shoulder. A deep crease lining the space between his brows as he frowned.
As soon as she got the other end out, Zara stepped forward. “It’s only going to get worse now, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Aeric.”
At Zara’s words, Anelize stepped closer to his side as Adan and Idris did the same to hold him, should he writhe again. He did, and every passing second of her stitching the gaping wound in his chest, along with stopping the overflow of blood, was agonizing. Sweat formed on Aeric’s brow as he fought to endure the pain.
Tears streamed down the side of his face, his eyes barely opening, finding her through the pain. Anelize placed her hand on his cheek, brushing aside the strands of hair matted to his face.
“You said you could handle pain, remember? The first time we met. I thought you the most foolish man I had ever met. To my utter surprise, I hadn’t hated your pride or your insouciant manner. Not at all,” she confessed, wishing her words would reach him enough to calm him while Zara worked. When his eyes opened once more and held her gaze, she said, “And when you left, I regretted not giving you my name. So that maybe we could find each other again, despite my fears andworries of needing to hide from the world. Hoping that…you would find me again.”
“I would…have…” he rasped, and the sound was as lovely as it was heartbreaking when she’d thought moments ago that she would never hear his voice again.
She quickly wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek as she nodded, whispering softly, “I think I know that now.”
Slowly, Anelize watched as the wound stitched itself back together until there was nothing left behind save for a painful looking jagged scar over the left side of his chest. Proof that he’d nearly died. That hehaddied, and somehow, he’d come back. He’d fought to come back. If it had been for her or some other reason, Anelize didn’t care.
By the time Zara finished, he was lost to sleep. His chest rising and falling fast from the exhaustion before it eventually settled.
“That should do for now. He should be safe. We’ll move him to his room upstairs so he may recover,” Zara said, her complexion clammy from pushing the limits of her power.
“We shall help carry him up,” Henry offered before hurrying out of the kitchen, returning with Gabriel and another wounded Vedran she had only seen in passing before.
As the men helped carry him out, Aeric looked so weak, so fragile in that one moment that she was compelled to go to him. Needing to be close enough where she could hear his heart was still beating. A melody that still filled her ears now before she realized she was even conjuring.
A hand gently reached for her arm, and she flinched as pain shot down to her wrist, turning to find Adan searching her face then roaming down the rest of her tattered, dirty appearance.
“You’re hurt. Let Zara take a look at you.”
“I’m fine?—”
“If you say you’re fine, I’m going to actually throttle you. I don’t care what Aeric does to me when he wakes, I will,” Adan cut her off, but there was no fire in his words; granting her a glimpse of his worry. For her. She wondered if this was how friends cared for one another, if she ever had any before all of this perhaps she would know. But she decided that it was, as he guided her to one of the chairs at the table.
Casting one glance toward the door where Aeric had been taken, she reluctantly did as Adan ordered and allowed Zara to take a look at her injuries. Apart from the burn on her shoulder and her wrist—which had been the ones the most in need of attention by far—there had been cuts along her cheek and hands. Her back felt tender, and she knew if she mentioned it to Zara, she would find a canvas of purple and blue bruises.
While Zara carefully healed the burn on her shoulder, Anelize explained to them all that she’d seen and heard. The Watchmen seeking out sympathizers and Vedrans, alike. What they’d planned on doing to those children if the rebels hadn’t interfered when they had.
Then how Aeric had been injured. What she’d done to save him. The entire time, Adan and Idris had watched her with varying shades of fury.
“He is truly lucky you brought him when you did,” Zara said as she finished healing her wounds until she looked close to fainting herself.
Idris came up to support her and eased her onto a chair before she could attempt to fully finish healing Anelize’s wrist, which had been about the size of a fist before she started.
“I’m sure you’ve done more than enough to pushyourself to your limit for today. Rest now. I’ll be fine. I can wrap it in the meantime.”
Despite the worry on the woman’s face, she nodded apologetically and promised to be up to see her first thing tomorrow.
The entire time, she felt Adan’s searching eyes on her where he and Idris had taken to leaning against the counter, discussing with Henry how many rebels had been lost today in the middle of the Watchman’s impromptu attack. There would be time to discuss with him what had happened—if she thought herself capable of reliving those moments of crushing that Watchman’s heart in his chest—for now, there was only one place she wanted to be.
Excusing herself, she rose from the bench at the table still covered with Aeric’s blood.
“I don’t understand. That arrow practically went straight through his heart. He should have been dead by all accounts. The saints must have truly been looking after him,” Zara said to the men as Anelize made her way toward the door.
When she casted a glance over her shoulder, she caught Adan’s curious gaze before he said, “Perhaps it was someone else who looked after him today.”
Anelize stared into the mirror in the bathroom after she’d taken a long, hot bath to ease the aches and bruises along her body, scrubbing away the blood and grime of the day. Scratches littered her cheek and the corner of her jaw, and her eyes looked entirely consumed by exhaustion. Still, she had just enough energy left in her to turn away and stride out of the bathroom.
She pulled a robe over a pale blue nightgown and fastened the ties around her waist. She ran a towel through her wet hair before tossing it onto her bed and made her way out of her room. Eager to leave as she quickened her pace.
