“If I had a choice, I would never leave her side again,” I surprise myself by being able to answer honestly.
“We’re on it, man,” Ransom says.
I nod as I head toward the door, the command getting stronger.
“It’s her story to tell and it’s fucking horrifying, you only caught a glimpse. Don’t fucking ask her about it,” I order.
“We won’t,” Griff replies, his voice tight, but he’s already by her side, sweeping her hair off her face. I smile.
I search the room, and see Doc staring at her wrists. I know why he’s hesitating, he wants her permission to heal her.
“Doc, heal her ankles and wrists, if she wakes up and sees them, then she will absolutely spiral again, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to come back,” I explain. “She’s also got an injury on her leg that needs healing.”
Doc immediately nods and gently sets his hands on her.
The command screams at me, and I am forced to jog toward the door, pulling it open. I glance back to see that Neith is surrounded by them all, their eyes on her, watching over her, and keeping her safe. River moves her so she’s lying on his chest as Raiden moves behind her, holding her tightly. A pang of longing goes through me. I would love to stay, to be in that room with all of them, looking after the woman that we love, and make no mistake, they may not be able to put it into words yet, but they love her.
As the door slams behind me, I rest my hand on it.
“Castle, protect the room and don’t let anyone in until Neith is ready,” I say.
The doors buzz underneath my touch, and then I feel a swell of magic that layers over the door and lets me know that it’s taking me seriously.
River
“That was fucking terrifying,” I mutter as I watch her breathe, her head resting on my chest.
“It really was,” Doc agrees, still sitting on the floor, her hand in his.
“I don’t think I have ever felt that helpless,” Griff admits. “I fucking hated it.
Raiden nods in agreement, “Thank fuck for Coen.”
Evander’s eyebrows dip down into a frown. “Did you see how he reacted to Asael slicing him?”
“He didn’t,” Reed replies, his worry evident in his eyes. “To be able to endure that without even flinching, says that he’s experienced some pretty fucking traumatic stuff, and most likely still is experiencing it.”
“What Coen did was fucking insane,” I reply. “And if Coen doesn’t kill Kylen then I fucking will. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that he is the one who’s responsible for Coen’s ability to ignore severe pain.”
“Agreed,” Van says. “I have no idea what we would have done if he hadn’t seen the trial and realized what was going to happen.”
“Nothing,” Reed says, not sounding very pleased about it at all. “We wouldn’t have been able to do anything. There is no way that we would have known that singing calmed her, and even if we did happen to stumble across it, there’s absolutely no way that we could have sung that song. It was specific and designed for her. I think they made it up for her.”
“They?” Griff questions.
I raise my eyebrows. I know that Griff heard it too. We all did, it was unmistakable. We may not have been around Coen for a long time, but there is no way that his voice could have warped that much. I mean, we have had some conversations with him, and despite that, it was very obvious that it wasn’t just one voice, it was two.
“There were definitely two voices,” Ransom agrees. “Coen obviously knew it before he started singing as well, as he wasn’t shocked or anything when he sang, and it wasn’t just his voice that came out.”
“Which means that he knew who it was,” Evander points out, which I thought was pretty obvious.
“Neith told us exactly who it was,” I say, when they all just look at me expectantly. I add, “Dimitri. She was talking to both of them. She knew that he was there too.”
Raiden’s eyes widen, “Shit you’re right. I was so focused on the effect that it was having at calming Neith down, that I didn’t really think too hard about anything else.”
“But how?” I ask with a frown, keeping my voice quiet since Neith is right here on my chest, and the last thing that I want to do is to wake her up.
Everyone falls quiet as they try to think of some way that what we just witnessed was possible.