Page 93 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

Nodding grimly, I waved a hand and stepped into the shimmering tear in the fabric of space. I took us straight into an empty room in the infirmary.

"Thora! Loten!" I called out, laying Raina down as if she were made of the most fragile glass.

My hands were shaking so fiercely that I feared I might shatter her myself. Her skin was ice. She ran cool, but the oily black substance had done more than damage flesh and bone.

Thora was the first to enter, Loten right on her heels.

"Move aside, Liam," Thora commanded, as she placed firm hands on my chest and pushed.

Her brother, Loten, who shared the same dark peach eyes, echoed the motion, adding, "Space, please. We have her now.”

"Her injuries are grave," I insisted, desperation edging my voice as I tried to convey the urgency.

"She took a blow … a hit of something aimed at me. A weapon but not. I think it dissolved into the wound.” I pointed at the oozing hole, bigger than my fist.

“This?” Thora’s dark eyebrows slanted, holding up a depressor with the dark goop dripping.

Loten huffed. “Dark practitioners on Ephandor’s soil? Unthinkable!”

“You know what it is?”

“Oh yes,” Loten nodded, moving over to a cabinet and grabbing a bowl and other supplies. “Nasty stuff.”

“Please, you must save her."

The twins, so different in looks, cocked their heads in the exact same manner. “We will,” they said in unison.

"Now, stand back and let us work," Loten said softly, but not unkindly.

I stepped further away, forced to surrender Raina to their capable hands, but my gaze never left her still figure. My heart screamed within its cage, a tormented beast clawing at the bars of helplessness.

With nothing to do but watch and worry, I took up a familiar station at the door. Nothing would get to her in here.

Thora and Loten worked in tandem, their hands a blur above Raina’s prone body, cleansing the sludge and weaving spells. Transfixed, I stood sentinel, waiting.

I shouldn’t have agreed. I should have stuck with my instincts, to force her to run. To hide.

I should've shielded her from that cursed weapon. Instead, she’d shielded me. Why? I didn’t feel worthy of the sacrifice, hadn’t earned such a thing from her.

"Oh, hello! Welcome back. We’ll give you two a few minutes then come back and get you cleaned up." At this point I wasn’t sure which twin was talking.

An anguished sound ripped from my throat as Raina’s eyes fluttered open, weak but aware. My pulse hammered in my ears.

"Liam?" she whispered.

"I’m here," I breathed out, falling to my knees beside her bed, gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white. "You can't do that again. Not ever again!"

Her gaze held mine. I wondered if she knew, as I did, the precarious ledge upon which we both stood.

“I’m done with this. With all of it. No more,” I asserted with such force Raina seemed to sink into her pillow a little further.

"As far as I’m concerned, you are my wife," I declared, the words spilling forth like an invocation, fierce and desperate and bordering on madness.

"Today. That’s it. Period. End of story." Yes, definitely madness. I didn’t give a shit.

Her eyes widened slightly. “You’re not making … any … sense,” she said as though the words cost her too much oxygen.

My heart was a wild drumbeat heralding a future. Our future.

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