Page 46 of The Stolen Throne

I’ve never thought much about Wylan being home. But right now, it’s the only place I want to be. I nod as I smile through my tears. “Please, take me home.”

25

The ride back to Wylan with my injuries was rough, but we finally made it safely to the castle. Dax marches through the front doors, not stopping for a moment. “Dax?” I say quietly.

He grunts and continues his quick pace through the halls.

“Dax?” I ask again louder.

“Yes?” he grunts out.

“Where are we going?”

His eyes narrow, but he continues to look forward. “To the healers.”

My eyes widen. “Why are we going to the healers? Are you alright? Did you push yourself too much?”

“We are going for you, Eira!” he yells, making me wince. His eyes turn to dark black pits again as darkness fills the hallway. He pauses to take several deep breaths, and the darkness slowly begins to dissipate with each breath he takes. With one last deep breath, he continues down the hall. His voice is softer now as he says, “Forgive me. My anger got away from me.”

“It’s alright,” I say softly. “I do not need to see the healer, Dax. I am fine.”

He freezes, and his grip on me tightens. “You believe you do not need to see the healer?”

I look up at him to find him frowning down at me. I arch a brow. “I am fine, Dax.”

He lowers me, so my legs touch the ground, and I can stand on my own. I pull his cape tighter around myself as I find seven sets of eyes staring at me. He steps away, and I watch his fingers curl into fists. “You think yourself well enough?”

I shrug. “I’m fine. I do not wish to bother the healers when they have better things to do.” In truth, I don’t want any more foreign hands touching me. I don’t want anyone touching me other than my men.

“You think yourself a bother,” Kas states and growls.

My brows furrow, and I shake my head. “I did not say that, Kas.” How can I tell them what’s wrong without admitting what the king did to me? The nightmare of being forced back to that castle after escaping it once.

“Then what are you saying?” Rev asks with a frown.

I huff out a sigh and try to explain, “I am sure there are others who need the healers more than me. I also…”

I let out a squeak when the cape is ripped from my body. I am now completely bare, and Ash holds the cape. His eyes narrow on me as he angrily huffs. “You believe your body is less important than anyone else's?”

Bene points at Dax as he glares at me. “We had to hold our prince down, so he could heal.”

Before I can say anything more, Mir snaps, “We have been going insane around here waiting for him to heal enough to come for you! He would have gone after you still bleeding if we didn’t stop him!”

I try to say something again, but Alair interrupts me this time. “You think you're so replaceable that we would allow you to skip seeing the healers?”

“That isn’t what I said!” I yell before anyone else can interrupt me. I’m frustrated and feeling so overwhelmed with them acting like they… well, like they love me. I simply don’t want anyone touching me! I shiver at the thought of foreign hands on my skin. Wait… My thoughts start to spiral as I try to understand why they would be acting like this. Do they love me? Is that possible? My eyes widen when they meet Dax’s bottomless, dark pits. I can’t stop myself from asking, “Do you love me?”

His eyes widen for a moment before narrowing again, but he remains quiet, which sparks my irritation. It’s better than the fear of foreign hands touching me, though. “Do you even know what love is, Dax?”

He grunts as he answers, “No. No, I do not. But I know what I feel. I know what I have felt with you missing the last few weeks.”

Standing completely naked in the hallway in front of these men like this makes me feel vulnerable. My fresh wounds from the king are on full display, but I get a feeling Dax feels the same way fully clothed. I remember our first fight when I wanted freedom. He had told me he had an obsidian heart. So, I decide to push. “And what did you feel, Dax? What could you possibly feel in that obsidian heart of yours?”

He thumps a fist against his chest over his heart as he says, “I feel as though I would tear the world apart if anything were to happen to you.” He raises his voice as he continues, “I feel as if I would tear the very fabric between life and death to steal you away!” His fingers spread over his chest before tightening into fists again. He’s breathing heavily while the darkness swirls around us. His emotions are too much for him to contain. “I would… I would steal you from death himself if you were to try and leave this world.”

Taken aback by his confession, I step closer to him. “Is that… is that what love is to you?” I ask quietly.

He stares at me, his eyes like bottomless pools of ink. “I don’t know,” he whispers.

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