Chapter 42
Carver
“Is Jayveh all right?” Amryn asked.
Carver had a thousand questions for his wife, but in truth, he wasn’t even sure where to start. So he would answer hers. “Physically, she’s fine. You healed her. The physician is worried about the baby, though. He said there’s no way the baby should have survived that poison.”
“I felt the baby.”
Such a simple statement, but it boggled his mind. “You did?”
Amryn nodded. “The babywasdying, whether from the poison or a blow Jayveh took when she was fighting Tam, but the healing touched him.”
“Him?”
“I’m not sure, but I think so. The baby’s essence feels male.”
It was unreal. Incredible.
“I should go see her,” Amryn whispered.
“She’s resting with a sedative. She was . . .”Inconsolable.
Carver’s own emotions were raw. Jayveh had told him what had happened in the library. That Tam had stabbed Argent. Tam had taken him, but she’d only used the prince so she could get out of Esperance. Beyond that, he would have served no further purpose for her. She would have killed him then—if he hadn’t already bled out.
Staying numb, skirting denial . . . it was the only way Carver was staying sane. Until they found a body, Carver couldn’t believe that Argent, the heir to the empire—his best friend—was dead.
“I didn’t feel him,” Amryn whispered. “When I was reaching out, I . . . I felt Tam. But I didn’t feel Argent.” Pain bloomed in her eyes, and the thin hope he’d been clinging to snapped.
The knot in his stomach pulled taut. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Amryn’s hand settled on his knee. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Carver.”
“Ford is still out looking for him,” he whispered. “Tam and the other rebels have disappeared, but we’re still looking. Ford hasn’t found any sign of Argent yet—not even a body.” Of course, if an animal had gotten to him first . . .
He felt sick.
“You want to be out there. You want to help find him. And Tam.”
He eyed her. Saints, she actuallyknewhow he felt, didn’t she? “Yes,” he answered her. “But I couldn’t leave you. Not until I knew you were going to wake up.”
“You should go now,” Amryn said.
“Ford is supposed to report in at noon. I’ll join him then.” There was a short silence, then he said, “Jayveh is convinced Argent is still alive. That he survived the poison like us, and that Tam would have treated his wound. That she abducted him.” Saints, he wanted to believe that, too.
Pain bloomed in Amryn’s eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone, either. But I didn’t feel him, Carver. He wasn’t with Tam—he wasn’t anywhere.”
His lungs felt caught in a vice. “We can’t tell Jayveh what you felt.”
She shook her head. “I wish we could, but . . .”
It would betray Amryn’s secret.
Carver glanced away. “I know you didn’t feel him. I know what that means, but . . . I think I need to see his body, too. I just can’t believe he’s gone. Not fully.”
“I know.” Amryn squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry, Carver.”
He inhaled slowly, then exhaled even slower. “Tell me everything that happened after you left the ballroom.”