Page 141 of Courting the Dragon Prince
ChapterSixty-Four
Abreeze swept across Onyx’s cheek. He opened his eyes, blinking at the curtain that danced before the open window.
Luther lay beside him, his arm slung across Onyx’s hip. Luther’s mouth hung open in sleep. A lock of hair rested against his skin.
Onyx smiled as he lifted his hand and brushed the hair back, tucking it behind Luther’s ear.
We’re alive. We’re safe. We won.
They’d flown back to Limestone Castle after the battle, arriving just before dawn. Lady Larimar had descended on them, horror and shock registering on her face as they explained what happened.
“Get the high healer. And bring food and drink,” she’d ordered the servants.
For the next couple of hours, Onyx and Luther had been cared for under the stern gaze of Lady Larimar. She’d watched them like a hawk, ensuring they ate and drank and that the high healer assessed and treated all their wounds.
The high healer of Limestone Castle was a woman in her mid-forties. Onyx had always known her to be extremely competent in her healing powers. But she’d never treated a dragon before.
After all, the vast majority of her years practising healing had taken place during the war with the dragons. She’d not had the opportunity. But apparently, she’d learnt about dragons at the Dove Healing Academy, where she’d studied healing magic.
When she’d spoken to Luther, even before examining him, she’d stated, “Dragons aren’t supposed to shift with broken bones.”
“No,” Luther had replied. “But I didn’t have much choice at the time.”
She’d closed her eyes, fingers hovering over Luther’s leg. But she would not attempt to heal the bone.
The high healer shook her head. “The bone feels wrong. I’m worried using the healing magic I’m familiar with will just do more damage. Best to see a healer more familiar with dragons.” At least she’d bound the leg, given Luther herbs for the pain, and then proceeded to heal Luther’s many other wounds and scrapes.
Once Lady Larimar had decided they had been adequately tended to, she’d sent them to Onyx’s room to rest.
Onyx had protested, “We should go straight to the White Monastery and report.”
“No!” She’d given a firm shake of her head. “Rest first. Then travel.” She’d looked at the two of them. “You two don’t look like you’ll make it there.”
Onyx had glanced at Luther. Dark bags had hung beneath his eyes. Even though he’d sat, he practically swayed. And, of course, Luther’s leg was still broken. So Onyx had relented, and they’d retired to his room.
Now he stroked his fingers through Luther’s hair, glad they’d taken the time to rest. Especially because now that the adrenaline had left his body, he realised the threat had been neutralised.
His uncle was dead. He no longer posed a threat to Onyx, Luther, Onyx’s mother, or the peace treaty. They could rest a little. He kissed Luther’s cheek.
Luther’s eyelids fluttered open. He smiled, reached up, and caught Onyx’s hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the fingertips.
“Morning,” Luther whispered.
Onyx shook his head. “It’s night.”
“Really?” Luther turned to glance at the window and the starry sky beyond. “We slept through the day. We must have really needed the sleep. And I guess we did go to bed around midday.” He yawned. “Do we need to get up and go to the monastery?”
Onyx shook his head again. “Everyone will be asleep by the time we get there. We’ll leave early in the morning.”
Luther flopped, sinking back into the bedding. “Good. I’m still exhausted.” He snuggled closer to Onyx. “I want to sleep more.”
Onyx wrapped his arms around Luther. “How’s your leg?”
Luther scrunched his nose. “Fucked. I’ll take more of those herbs for the pain soon.”
“Do you think there will be a healer who can tend to you at the monastery?” Onyx asked.
Luther nodded. “Of course. My father’s personal healer is the best in Draconia, and he always travels with my father.”
