Page 115 of Between Imminent Fates

“Napping, and boy, does that kid sleep.” Rukia chuckled, then sobered almost immediately. “Like his father, I guess.”

He’d been giving his son every scrap of attention he’d missed while he was down for the count.

“Has either Key or Nina woken up? Are they alive?”

“They are, and they’ve both seen some improvement over the last month, but they remain asleep,” Jaeda offered. “When you all first went under, your minds were blank and filled with static. Gradually, you returned to us, but it wasn’t without a few bumps in the road.”

Nodding, he took stock of his surroundings and already hated them.

“I’d like to get out of this bed, Jaeda.”

He made a move to follow through. Both women jumped to attention and scrambled to assist. Frowning at their antics, he fisted a hand against the bed and brought himself upright. A wave of dizziness dotted his vision, and their hands caught him as his eyes briefly closed to combat the nausea.

As the vertigo and queasiness subsided, his eyes opened to find both Jaeda and Rukia watching him. Clearly, neither had expected him to move a muscle until he’d fully recovered.

Hard pass.

Jaeda’s hands were on him after a few seconds, funneling energy into him at a phenomenal rate. Through his clan’s links, he could feel the swell of energy from Derikles and the host of his lieutenants. They were ever his support.

For a moment, he let his body adjust to being upright. It was an odd sensation after being horizontal for such a long time—and it made him feel like he’d topple over at any moment. While he’d love to give himself more time to adjust, he already hated this room—and this bed—and heneededto be downstairs where his people were.

Pushing against the bed, Isaiah swung his legs over the edge. Fortunately, he was clad in loose sweatpants and a black t-shirt, something acceptable for seeing the lieutenants that were currently awaiting his appearance.

Their clan links pulsed at him, and even tired, his psychic senses registered their presence. Though he detested the state of his body, the need to see them outweighed any pride that might’ve impeded him.

Both women reached for him as he attempted to stand, supporting him as he tested out whether his legs would hold his weight. For a moment, it seemed as though he’d tumble right down to the ground.

Stars temporarily flitted across his vision and the urge to vomit bubbled. Beside him, Jaeda’s healing energy poured into him with such potency that he audibly gasped. The healer, apparently in no mood to see him collapse, wasn’t taking any chances. As the heat of the energy transfer seared their bond, the nausea disappeared. A moment more, and his legs stopped shaking.

Standing made him feel better. “Shall we, ladies?”

The stairwell opened to the large living room below. Rukia supported him down the stairs, with Jaeda having taken point in front of them. Progress was slow, and he gradually came into view of the rather large viewing party awaiting his entrance.

He was panting by the bottom stair. Before he asked, however, Rukia subtly shifted her weight to better support him, camouflaging the weakness from the lieutenants that looked positively hungry to see him.

His first words were for Derikles.

Locking eyes with the man he’d done a great disservice to, he immediately apologized. “Derikles, I’m sorry. I took advantage of your trust in me, and I pushed responsibility on you that you never wanted. It was a horrid thing to do.”

Derikles was already shaking his head, moving across the room to pull Isaiah into a brotherly embrace that left room for no ill feelings. Retreating, his second gripped his shoulders tightly.

“Sovereign, I think I speak for all of us when I say that you have nothing to apologize for. To have you back—and well—is good enough.”

Isaiah didn’t get a chance to respond before Circe was cinching her arms around his waist. Her ferocity, and the slight tremble in her frame, made him frown.

“I’m okay, Circe.”

“But you weren’t,” she snapped as she stepped back, her pain transforming to fury in the blink of an eye. “You put yourself on the line and you didn’t even tell us! You left your mate, Isaiah, and you leftus.”

Of all his lieutenants, Isaiah hadn’t anticipated this from Circe. Mirrored on their faces was a common thread, a knowledge that was shared between them.

Guilt.

Before he could tug on the thread, Isaiah begrudgingly acknowledged the pit in his gut. His hunger had been building since the moment he’d awakened, and he could no longer put it off, not even for the discussion they needed to have.

“Circe, we will have this conversation, but first—” Isaiah jerked his chin toward the kitchen, “—I need to eat something. And Rukia, my love, no offense, but I don’t want you to cook it.”

All of his lieutenants rushed toward his kitchen like a great herd of buffalo. He and Rukia followed, and his mate immediately pushed him toward a stool.

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