Page 120 of Between Wrath and Mercy

I laughed before it turned into a moan, body disturbed by the movement. Dewalt looked down at my legs and whistled. The two men both peered grimly at my lower half, their expressions a mixture of horror and fear. I didn’t look at my legs; I didn’t want to start vomiting.

Dewalt approached the side of the bed where Rain stood next to me, hand holding mine, letting me squeeze it through the pain. “Emma, they seem healed. I—It’s like it healed wrong.”

“Help me sit up so I can see.” Rain slid an arm behind my back to prop me up, and I inhaled a breath, trying to calm my revolting stomach. Shards of bone were halfway melded together, protruding from my skin. What new hell had my divinity wrought? It certainly tried, didn’t it? “Gods above, is my shin like that too?” Dewalt examined me and shook his head. At least that was one victory. I pushed back against Rain’s supportive arm, and he helped lower me slowly to the bed, worry etching every part of his face. My first instinct was to reassure him that I would be alright, but I wasn’t so sure myself. What if we couldn’t fix it? What if I never walked again?

Mairin returned, eyeing what we had just discovered. “Dewalt, go find something for us to use as splints, so she doesn’t move them in her sleep. I’m going to set this first one, but one of you is going to have to re-break the other so I can set it too.”

The two men exchanged a weighted glance, and I squeezed Rain’s hand while looking up at him. “You’re going to have to hold me down, love.” He nodded, appearing sick to his stomach, before walking around to the other side of the bed and gently climbing up. Both of his hands pressed down on my thigh, firm yet gentle, holding me in place as Mairin moved into a better position. I felt her cool hands on my skin, and I inhaled, focusing my divinity as she swiftly set the bone. I cried out but managed to stay awake, panting and sobbing, picturing my bone healing, the white shards knitting back together. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks, and the pain from both hurts—my shin and my other leg—started to overwhelm me. Though Rain was next to me, gently petting my forehead and hair, I could feel that pull back to the dark.

“I think I’m going to sleep for a moment, my heart.” He carefully leaned over me, lips pressing gently on my forehead.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I never heard the answer before the dark claimed me once more.

Iwokeuptoa damp cloth being rubbed across my brow, cool and soothing. Breathing deeply, I indulged myself in sorting the different smells assailing my nostrils. The faint scent of the garden mixed with the intoxicant that was petrichor, earth, and something inherently male, and I knew it was Rain who tended me. It was dark in the room except for the light of the fire as I opened my eyes. There was a fleeting pain, fading in and out, in one leg, and no pain in the other, and I nearly choked on my relief. I was calm, my heartbeat and breathing measured, no longer erratic and grasping. Cautiously, I adjusted my leg, the one that didn't need breaking a second time, and was relieved I felt no discomfort.

“Are you awake?” Rain’s voice whispered close to me, and I turned my head toward him, smiling at him in the dim light.

“I am. Have you not slept?” He had dark circles under his eyes, and I was worried. We were past the worst of it, and I knew he needed to rest.

“I’ve been dozing off and on. You were sweating.” I did feel flushed, and I wondered about a fever. Needing to check my wounds for heat or redness, I rallied my body to obey, but I still felt weak. Nothing compared to before, but I still didn’t feel quite right. The dull ache behind my eyes told me my divinity had been hard at work while I was sleeping; the tightly thrumming hum I usually felt was reedy and shaky. Most times, I never noticed my divinity. But when it was taxed, I found it harder to ignore. Rain's hands were chilly as they slid up my back to help me as I sat up, and he stood, lighting the lamp, before sitting on the edge of the bed beside me.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Almost three days.”

My eyes widened; I was shocked it had been that long, but it explained why my pain had lessened so drastically. I wasn’t hungry yet, my body still in shock, but I was thirsty, and it made sense considering how long I'd been asleep. My shin was nearly completely healed, with no signs of infection, yet there was still a faint line where the bone had broken the skin. My thigh was a different story, warm to the touch and red. I couldn’t see bone, thankfully, but the wound had barely knitted closed. It needed to be disinfected. Would the torture ever stop? I sucked in a breath, knowing it should be the last of it. One more burst of pain, and then I’d spend the rest of the divinity I could and go back to sleep, waking up significantly better. “Can you help me to the bath?”

“You can’t mean to bathe with that?” His eyes lingered on my leg for a moment before gaping at me.

“No, I'm not bathing yet. I’ll need some alcohol. Not the good stuff.” He frowned when he realized what I meant to do. “It’s almost over. See how it’s red and hot? I need to clean it. And then I’ll finish healing it, curl up next to you, and sleep until I’m better. I may need to drink quite a bit of water first though, my mouth feels full of sand.” I gave him an encouraging smile, and he nodded before pulling me to the edge of the bed, a hand behind my knee and at my back.

“Wait, I need to check something.” Grabbing onto him, I turned, swinging both legs over the side of the bed before putting a small amount of weight on the better one, and I was glad it held. I stood, balancing only on that same leg, but didn't tempt fate by staying on it too long. I knew I'd tire easily.

“I think it’ll be better in another day or so. Until then, you’re stuck carrying me.” He gave me a look that touched on annoyance, and his lips curled down into a frown as he gently scooped me into his arms.

“If you can carry my heart, I can carry your body.” He pressed his lips to mine, firmer than all the delicate brushes he’d given me since finding me in the dungeon, and my heart sang. Carrying me into the bathroom, he gently situated me on the bench at the back of the tub before leaving the room to get the alcohol I requested, and I leaned back. I knew I’d told him I didn’t intend to bathe, but I wanted to—the stench of my captivity and all that came after was almost vomit-inducing. My clothes were filthy, and I gazed at the arms of my sleeves longingly, distraught over the destroyed fabric, the beautiful pattern of flowers that once made up my dress ruined. I ran my hand up one sleeve, and the beautiful ring Rain gave me caught my eye. I was still staring at it when he finally walked back in, carrying two different bottles and a glass of water I drank in one long gulp.

“I brought one to hurt and one to numb.” He had a grin on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Numbing first.” He handed me one of the bottles, and I tilted my head back, taking a deep draw. I immediately regretted it, sputtering and coughing as a few droplets landed on my leg, making me hiss in pain. “Get it over with, please.”

He looked at me warily, and I could tell he hated this almost as much as I did. He reluctantly walked to the side of the tub and pulled the remains of my dress out of the way, tilting the bottle over the wound, making quick work of it. I grunted out a string of curses but managed not to scream. It wasn’t as bad as having your bones broken and set. I held out my hands over the center of the tub, and he helped me disinfect them before I slid them on top of my thigh and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the cool tile behind me. I just needed to get the wound shut so I could bathe. It was all I wanted at that moment, to feel clean and whole and folded into Rain’s arms. I focused my attention on my wound and ignored the sharp pain behind my eyes, but I knew I was grimacing. Rain climbed into the tub, sitting on the bench behind me and readjusting me to lean against him. He soothed me, playing with my hair, gently caressing my arms, and pressing-open mouthed kisses over the curve of my neck and shoulder.

“I smell wretched.” I could feel the wound knitting together slowly, the taste of metal in my mouth once again.

“I know. I’ve been lying next to you for three days.” He didn’t pause in his attentions, and I laughed.

“I want to feel clean, normal. I want to take a bath and then sleep for another day.” He kissed the top of my head in response. I wanted to keep talking to him and distract myself from the growing pain behind my eyes. A thought occurred to me, and I felt guilt I’d never thought possible before.

“Is Elora safe? Your father rescinded the order?” Divine hell, how had I forgotten to ask about her?

“She’s as safe as she was before. The order was rescinded, and the assassins never left the palace.”

“Thank the gods.” I sighed, tilting my head back. I didn’t move for quite a while, just relaxing and soaking in his heat and strength. It wasn’t long before the ache in my head increased. “Tell me how you convinced your father to release me.”

“I didn’t. It was Ven.” His tone was off—something about the way he said it not quite right.

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