“—shots were fired towards Prince Freddie and his husband, Prince Damon. Their bodyguards got them secured quickly, but not without injuries. We don’t have confirmation of who is injured, yet.”

Evan raced around the desk, grabbing his phone and dialling. “Come on, come on, pick up, pick up,” he muttered.

“Evan, he’ll be okay.”

He glared at her. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Marie nodded. “I can’t distract you when you’re working, Evan. You know that.”

The call turned to voicemail, but he ended it and dialled again. “Pick up, you asshole.” No answer again. “Where the fuck is he?”

“He’s probably taking care of securing the prince,” Marie said. “He’ll be fine.”

“Incoming GSW in five minutes. Patient is unconscious. We believe it may be a concussion but will need confirmation. Vitals are stable. Please note, we need additional security at A&E when we arrive.”

Evan didn’t need any other confirmation. Whoever was coming in with a gunshot wound was either royalty or royalty was coming in with them. They would usually use a different entrance, but sometimes, it wasn’t possible. He dropped his phone to the desk, bracing his hands and lowering his head. His heart pounded, and he couldn’t breathe, but he needed to. He visualised helping Owen to breathe and followed his own phantom instructions.

The five minutes dragged by, but eventually, the ambulance pulled up. The paramedics raced out just as more security guards entered A&E, and within seconds, they wheeled the gurney in. Damon walked in behind it, along with Locke, and Evan’s heart dropped. It was either Freddie…or Owen.

Damon met his gaze, his eyes pained. He nodded at him, and Evan swore his heart stopped. He stepped towards the gurney, Owen’s face coming into focus.

“Fuck, no,” he said, grabbing Owen’s hand. “Owen?”

“He’s unconscious,” the paramedic said, as if talking to an idiot.

“I can see that,” Evan snapped. “Owen, sweetheart. Come back to me.”

“Oh, shit,” that same paramedic murmured, seeming to realise Evan knew the patient.

“Bay three,” Marie said. “Evan, go with him, but don’t get in the way. If you do, I’ll have you removed. Understand?”

Evan nodded and walked beside the gurney as they wheeled it into the bay. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. There was so much blood on his clothes. He glanced at Damon, who had also come with them.

“What happened?”

Damon sighed. “We were shot at as we left Windsor Castle. Not sure if they were aiming for Freddie or me, but they missed. Unfortunately, the bullet sliced along the side of Owen’s head.”

Evan couldn’t see the wound because of the bandages he had on, but there was a lot of blood. He knew head wounds bled a lot but seeing it on his boyfriend was a whole other matter. He stepped aside when the nurses took over from the paramedics, and he wrung his hands. He had to survive. He just had to.

Watching as Dr Wallis removed the bandages, Evan gasped when the wound came into view. There was a line going from his temple to halfway towards the back of his head. He could just imagine Owen flinching away from the pain, which might just have saved his life.

If he woke up.

Concussion could be a bitch.

“It looks fairly superficial, though the blood shows differently. I want him to have an MRI to check for internal bleeding or bruising,” Dr Wallis said. “Keep the fluids going and add more pain relief to it. When he wakes up, he’s going to have a stinking headache.”

The nurses bustled around, and Evan knew he needed to walk away and let them do the job, so with a kiss to the back of Owen’s hand, he whispered, “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

A porter wheeled Owen out of A&E and towards the MRI testing room, and Evan rested his hands on his hips, reminding himself to breathe. Damon squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Evan couldn’t reply. He knew it wasn’t Damon’s fault, but he couldn’t help but briefly wish Owen had a different job. One where he didn’t put himself in danger every single day. One where Evan wouldn’t have to worry if that day would be the day he didn’t return home to him. He dropped his head. Owenwouldn’t be Owen if he didn’t do what he could to protect those around him. Even if he wasn’t a bodyguard for royalty, he would’ve found something to do that would put him at risk. It was who he was.

Finally, he glanced at Damon. “Is everyone else okay?”

Damon nodded. “Yes. Freddie is back home now, and they’ve increased security for the moment. We’re waiting on information about where the shot came from, but I’ve not been told anything yet. I wasn’t really thinking of looking around when everything happened.”