Page 12 of Stray
“Thank you, doctor,” Natalia said warmly, seeing him out.
Tessa approached the bed, still wearing her robes. She looked comically out of place in the clinical setting with her ethereal appearance and the painted markings on her face. They reminded Ella of the ones that had appeared on her arms, but when she looked down, all she could see was the IV needle.
“You won’t be able to see those in here,” Tessa said in answer to her unspoken question. She stroked Ella’s hair behind her ear and smiled knowingly as she drew a strand of it through her fingers.
Ella gasped, raising a hand to pull her hair through her own fingers. Sure enough, it was all the same stark white shade as Natalia’s.
“I don’t understand,” she choked, looking over at the others. She remembered Bishop being there when she first woke up, but had she dreamed that? None of it seemed real, and yet she had a shattered sternum and several broken ribs that claimed otherwise.
“No shame in that,” said Tessa. “In all my years, I’ve never heard of a moonmarking going as violently as all that.”
“Mine certainly felt like a walk in the park in comparison,” Natalia said in a wry tone, approaching Ella’s bedside. “How are you feeling, dear?”
“Confused,” Ella answered, her voice still hoarse. She finally dared to look over at Bishop, more perplexed by his presence than anything. “You pulled me out, didn’t you?”
It was the only explanation that made any sense of the fractured pieces she was trying desperately to fit together.
He gave her a tired smile and she noticed the dark circles around his eyes for the first time. How long had they all been there with her? “Sorry about the broken bones. CPR is a lot easier on a practice dummy.”
“You saved my life,” she murmured. The weight of what had happened was only partially beginning to settle down on her, which was just as well. She feared it would crush her if it all came down at once, and she’d already had enough of that for one evening.
“Guess coming to your rescue is becoming a habit,” he teased. Coming from Axel, those words would have had an entirely different meaning, but there was something gentle in the way he spoke, even if his gaze was every bit as devastating.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” said Tessa.
“We’relucky,” Natalia added. “We almost lost our future Empress.”
The word hit Ella like a lead weight. She still hadn’t made the impossible connection between everything that had happened and the purpose of the ritual.
“There has to be a mistake,” she insisted. “It can’t be me.”
“The moon usually isn’t quite this forceful, but she’s always clear,” said Tessa. “You are undoubtedly the marked one.”
“If there was any question before, the new dye job pretty much settles it,” Bishop agreed, folding his arms. There was an undeniable glimmer of amusement in his eyes, replacing the worry that had been in them so recently. “It looks good on you.”
Of all the things that should have had her flustered, his words were what made Ella blush. She didn’t know how to respond, but fortunately, Tessa saved her the trouble.
“You need to rest,” she said, pulling a thin cotton blanket up over Ella’s shoulders. “It’s all over now, and we need you well so you can begin your training.”
“Training?” Ella croaked. “I can’t. I have to help Mrs. Hill plan the fall formal, and I’m supposed to clean up after the ceremony.”
The three exchanged looks Ella was too tired to even try to read.
“It’s been three days since the ceremony, Ella,” Natalia said gently. “As for the formal, you’re going to have much bigger things on your plate soon. I’m sure Emily will find a way to manage.”
Ella wanted to argue, but she was losing energy fast. She sank back against the pillows, fighting the growing temptation to shut her eyes for just a few seconds.
“I can’t be the Empress,” she said, her words slow and slurred like a record player winding down as her body gave her no choice but to give in to sleep. “I’m just a stray.”
Chapter 4
Axel
Indignation. That was the word for it. Axel had been mulling over the right way to describe exactly what he was feeling--what he had been feeling--ever since the night of the ceremony.
First came shock. The moment it had become clear that not only was Marissa not the one who’d been chosen to lead the colony, but that the unlikeliest of candidates--no, someone who wasn’t even supposed tobea candidate--had been chosen, he’d been too shocked to feel much of anything, just like everything else.
Then came the dread. The oh-shit-i-bet-on-the-wrong-horse dread of knowing he had wasted the last six years pretending to tolerate a vapid airhead for no good damn reason.
