Page 99 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“Safe, yes. But you may want to hold her down. The siphoning can be quite painful, especially give the amount flowing through her bloodstream.”
He reached for Everinne, then hesitated, unsure of where to grab her or where to hold on. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
Franseza motioned toward the headboard with a flippant wave of her hand. “Climb up behind her on the bed. Keep a firm grasp of her waist and make sure her arms stay in place by her sides.” The healer stole a look at Caedian. “Captain, if you could please secure her legs.”
Caedian stiffened, his gaze darting to Atlas for approval.
He nodded once.
Caedian scooped his hands under Everinne’s arms, slowly lifting her from the bed as Atlas climbed up to situate himself behind her. He hated the way her hair hung limp, the way her head dropped and rolled like a doll. Once he was seated with his legs stretched out along both sides of the bed, Caedian heavedher backward, laying her down gently against Atlas’s torso. He locked his arms around her, pinning her against him, and sweltering heat radiated from her. She was like touching fire.
“Got her?” Caedian asked.
Again, all Atlas could do was nod.
His captain moved to the foot of the bed, linking one arm under her calves while the other reached over her shins. Then he lowered his chest, ensuring the weight of his upper body kept her firmly in place.
Franseza pinched the siphoning device between her fingers and met Atlas’s worried stare. “Remember, Your Imperial Highness. Hold her tightly.”
Atlas leaned back, clutching Everinne to him. “I won’t let her go.”
Franseza used the dagger-like tip of the siphon and pierced Everinne’s hip, slowly drawing out small amounts of thick, black ooze.
At first, Everinne didn’t move, but on the second extraction, Atlas heard the faintest whimper slip from between her lips. Then she flinched, and Caedian grunted as her legs began to jerk and kick. Tension sent her arching off Atlas, and he tightened his hold, his forearms wrapping around her like rods of steel. Spasms ricocheted through her, and the sniffles of agony morphed into broken, choking sobs. Everinne thrashed, her disjointed movements becoming more violent with each withdrawal of the blood ash from her veins. Her eyes remained closed, severe pain etched into the beautiful planes of her face, and then she screamed.
Fucking gods, herscream.
His blood, once blistering hot with fury, ran ice cold with fear. He’d never heard her scream like that before, and he prayed to any god or goddess that he’d never have to hear it again. The sound of it, the keening shrill that escaped her, was like a spearof affliction straight through his heart. It gutted him, slashing through him, leaving him full of crushing despair. The bond between them roared to life, hissing and snapping, fueling him with the urge to save and the desire to protect, to never allow anyone or anything to harm her again.
“Almost done,milazk,” Franseza crooned softly. “Almost done.”
Tears stained Everinne’s cheeks as she screamed again.
“Fuck!” Veros shouted, shoving his hands through his hair. “I…I can’t…”
“Go!” Atlas jerked his head towards the verandah, to the sunrise beyond. “Just go. I’ll find you when it’s over.”
Veros stormed out into the early morning light, disappearing as Everinne’s hoarse cries ebbed and she collapsed against Atlas’s chest, her body cool and pliant. There was no more fever. No more streaks of darkness flooding her veins. No more poison.
“There, there.” Franseza soothed her, humming softly as she continued to heal.
She swiped her finger over the incision in Everinne’s hip, coating it with a creamy white balm that reminded Atlas of wildflowers and honey. Then she sifted the dried herbs between her palms, dumping them into the mortar, then grinding them to a fine powder with the pestle. She popped off the cork of a large vial filled with some green-colored substance, the consistency of it similar to watery mud, and mixed the ingredients together.
Atlas slumped against the support of the headboard, cradling Everinne tightly, refusing to let her go.
Caedian eased up, releasing her completely, and swiped the back of his hand along his forehead. His face was flushed and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow. But it was the look in his eyes that was the most telling. The gray was haunted with shadows, and the deep umber of his skin was ashen. For even anelite warrior, seasoned in battle and blood, had never witnessed anything so harrowing. Either that, or Everinne’s screams had dragged up a profusion of memories that Caedian would rather forget.
“Now, she needs to rest. She may be fitful, and it is likely she’ll be disoriented when she awakens.” Franseza packed up her tools and supplies, placed the mortar on the nightstand by the bed, then shuffled toward the door. “Best to keep her calm and make sure she drinks the healing brew, every last drop, as she’ll be in a fair amount of discomfort.”
Atlas barely heard her.
He couldn’t hear anything except for the steady beating of Everinne’s heart and the soft breaths she released with every exhale.
“We’ll see that she does,” Caedian confirmed, gathering one of the silk sheets and pulling it up to cover Everinne’s mostly bare body. “Thank you.”
Franseza dropped into a bob of a curtsy, her old bones creaking like weathered branches. “Let me know if you require anything else, Your Highness.”
With that, the healer left. Caedian closed the door behind her, leaning against it, his head falling back against the solid wood. He roughed one hand over his face.
