Pain was not one of Fen’s favorite things, and he’d had more than his fair share of late. But that shock from Vek…that had been something else entirely. When Fen had returned to awareness after his uncle’s message, he’d found himself slumped on the floor a few paces away from the chair where he’d been sitting.
Had he tried to obey the command? Follow. He must have, but the pain had overtaken him. Now, he ducked his head into Vek’s room, but it was empty. Fuck. Where could his uncle have gone? A wealth of agony and fear had been embedded in the single word he’d sent.
Fen darted down the stairs, almost crashing into one of the mages rushing up from the opposite direction. He grabbed her shoulders to steady them both before releasing her. “Sorry. Have you seen—”
“Are you Fen?” the woman demanded. “I’m searching for the blood elf’s nephew.”
Fen’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. “Yeah.”
“Come with me. There was an accident.”
The mage fled down the stairs before he could ask a single question. Though Fen wanted information, her haste prompted his feet into action. There was only one thing that he needed to know.
“Is my uncle injured?”
She tossed a look over her shoulder. “I do not know. He appeared ill when I encountered him, but he was not involved in the accident.”
If his uncle had left his room while nearly incapacitated from taking that excess energy, the reason would have to be catastrophic—and only one thing came to mind. Dria. Vek’s mate must have been hurt.
As Fen followed the mage down a corridor, three Moranaian warriors led by their captain, Kera, rushed up behind them. “There was some kind of cave-in,” Kera explained. “Dria is trapped.”
“Vek?”
Kera paused, a distant look in her eyes as though she spoke to another. “According to Fedah, he burrowed his way through to Dria, but the path collapsed behind him.”
The mage turned into a tunnel carved unevenly into the wall. Sloppily done, but it held his uncle’s energy signature. He must not have full control of himself, which meant he might have made the cave-in worse while reaching Dria. Not that Fen could blame him. He would do the same if it was his mate.
There wasn’t much to the chamber where the tunnel emerged, only a small pool of water and a raw path curling to the left through an army of stalagmites. At the end of the trail, two mages worked to clear the pile of stones blocking their way. Fen hurried his steps before they caused a greater catastrophe.
“Step back,” Fen urged once he’d reached the ruins of the stone wall. “Leave this type of work to an earth mage.”
As they complied, Fen scanned the area with his magic and cursed. Vek’s energy signature tunneled near the base, but near the ceiling, another person’s power marred the stone. This hadn’t been an accident, and it hadn’t been set up by the mages who’d been trying to clear the area. This was an earth mage’s trick.
It was a clever trap. One he’d used himself, in fact. Use the barest bit of energy to destabilize the ceiling, hold it steady with a spell, and enchant a trigger below. But who would have done such a thing, and why here, in a room that wasn’t even part of the Moranaians’ outpost?
“What were you doing in this area?” Fen asked the mage as he sent his magic in search of his uncle. Alive with Dria somewhere beyond. Safe for the moment, thankfully. “This isn’t in the main cavern.”
She bit her lip. “There were footprints. Dria traced them to a fissure in the wall.”
“This is going to take me time to fix,” Fen said. “There might be more traps. And I suspect I’ll need energy before this is done.”
“There’s plenty to pull from on Earth now.” Then her gaze shifted to his mouth where his fangs poked out. “Oh. Umm.”
“I’ll do it,” the male mage said, stepping forward. “Dria is my friend.”
The woman shook her head. “I’ve heard whispers that he is ill, Gessen. You can’t possibly—”
“I can.” Without hesitation, Gessen met Fen’s gaze. “It is a personal choice, and it is one I make freely. I will provide if necessary.”
Fen nodded, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to accept the offer. “Thanks, man.”
Damned illness. He didn’t feel sick, precisely, but as he began the methodical work of repairing the cave, exhaustion already tugged at him.
He had to admit he wasn’t exactly well, either.
Dria woke to the sound of her own sob. So much pain. Where was she? What…?
She shoved her hand against her mouth, but her palm slipped against her skin. She opened her eyes. Only the slightest glow lightened the darkness, not even enough for her to make out the source of the moisture on her palm. But with the flashes of memory that hit one after the other, her suspicions grew.
Blood.
Dria shifted her legs. Then screamed. Gods, had they been crushed? She couldn’t feel her feet, but that might be the cold. No. No, something had crashed onto her ankle. Probably more rock had fallen after she’d lost consciousness. She might have held the shield if not for Vek’s…
His agony. She could sense more to her physical pain. Something deeper, almost as though they were mentally connected. Or in close proximity. But that couldn’t be right.
With gritted teeth, Dria gathered a bit of energy, though the effort had her shaking. No choice. Her breath hissed out as she bundled the power into a mage light and cast it above her. She barely maintained enough control to keep it aloft, but a muffled groan sounded from beside her at the glow.
A masculine groan.
Slowly, Dria turned her head to the side. Vek. His pale face twisted in pain, and his eyes were pinched closed. He lay curled on his side, knees drawn up. How had he gotten here? Had he been injured? But no. She’d felt his pain before that. What was wrong with him?
“Vek,” she whispered.
His eyes popped open, though he squinted against the light. “Rest. I sense Fen near.”
Dria licked her dry lips. “What…?”
“Cave-in. You called for me, so I came.”
Words fled as she stared at him. She’d taunted him, teased him, argued with and confronted him. She’d all but told him he would make a terrible bonded. But at a single thought, he’d come for her. At great cost, too. The price was etched into every pained line creasing his face. It trembled in his hand as he reached forward to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
But why?
Dria shifted against the cold stone, and her vision wavered as pain crashed through her. Vek flinched as she stifled another cry. Almost as though… Her blood chilled like the floor beneath her. Had he taken her blood? Had he bound them? Their pain blended, and…
“No,” Vek said softly. “I used my magic to keep you from bleeding out, but I didn’t taste your blood. We aren’t joined. But…”
Pain echoed between them. Proximity might account for some of it—not all. “We don’t even like each other.”
Vek chuckled. “Speak for yourself.”
He actually liked her? That was nonsense considering how much they argued, but she was too tired to debate the matter. Her eyelids grew heavy until she could barely keep them open. She had to admit, if only to herself, that seeing him beside her had brought relief.
Perhaps something more.
Only she would have to almost die in a cave-in to realize she might like someone.
Rock skittered against rock, the clatter striking Dria like the stones. Her whole body tensed, and another wave of agony ripped through her at the motion until she screamed. The scrape of moving rock resounded in her head until she was nothing but pain and panic.
Then Vek’s hand settled against her cheek. “It’s Fen. Be still, ahmeeren.”
Ahh what? The odd word caught her attention. Was it Unseelie? As a princess and mage, she’d learned quite a few fae languages, but that one hadn’t been offered. “What does that mean?”
“A simple endearment.”
More pebbles rained down beside their feet, followed by the groan of shifting rock. Although the movement sent pain through her legs until Dria thought she would faint, she slid closer to Vek. Without a word, he rolled to his back and shifted his arm in invitation. One that she took.
The physical contact joined them into one giant bundle of agony as their individual problems became shared, but Dria settled her head against his chest. Somehow, he kept the panic at bay. Vek was a protector, but more than that, he was a fixer. He wouldn’t rest until this situation was solved, even if he wasn’t the one to repair it.
“What’s another word in your language?” she asked to distract herself.
“Felshreh.” His lips brushed against her hair as he spoke. “Means blood elf. It’s what we call ourselves.”
“Sounds almost Seelie.” Warmth eased into her muscles, and she burrowed her face against his chest to breathe in his spicy-sweet scent. For the moment, she could forget he was dangerous. “Feels like I should be able to understand it.”
His shoulder moved slightly beneath her head. “Similar base language.”
Dust filled the room as one of the larger stones shifted. Dria yelped, and with a pained grunt, Vek wrapped his arms around her. Air flowed over her body, and the light brightened beyond her closed eyelids. But she didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to know if it was rescue or further danger.
“Shit.”
Fen’s voice.
“You sure you’re both alive?”
Vek’s breath ruffled her hair as he snorted. “Something resembling.”
“I have no idea how I’m getting you out of here,” Fen said.
“Gessen and I will levitate them.” That was Fedah, and she even sounded concerned. “I’ll take Dria to her room, and Gessen will return the blood elf to his.”
“No,” Vek snapped, his arms tightening. “Take us both to mine.”
Dria cracked open her eyelids. “Bossy.”
“Fen will guard us.” Vek’s mind brushed hers. “I trust no other in this state.”
This time, she barely noticed the pain that echoed through his thoughts. But the vulnerability? That caught her. He’d actually let her see his fear of being helpless. At another’s mercy. Had he insisted on having his way, she would have refused. His comfort and safety? She couldn’t deny that.
“To his room,” she whispered.
It was going to be a long way up.
Lial leaned against a bookshelf and watched Lynia work. Gods, she was beautiful, with her brow scrunched in concentration and her magic flowing around the tomes stacked on the table. If anyone could find answers for him, it would be her.
In more ways than one.
Almost a mark had passed before she slumped against the back of the chair and rubbed at her forehead. “I found passing mention of disease in our ancient history, but there’s nothing here to help you understand it.”
On the other end of the table, Selia tapped an energy crystal against the table. “Maybe the illness afflicting Maddy and Fen isn’t something that has struck the fae before.”
“Anything is possible,” Lynia said. “But I have my doubts. All of this began with Kien, and I did find record of his first spell being used before. Beyond that, history tends to circle. What we think of as new often isn’t.”
Lial almost slammed his fist against the side of the bookshelf but stopped himself in time. He had far too much to do to heal a broken hand. “If we can’t find adequate information, I am uncertain we’ll be able to create a tracking stone for the disease. I’d hoped the archives might give me something.”
Lynia grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep searching, but it could take time.”
“Too bad I can’t go with you when you heal Fen,” Selia said. “I could shadow you as you work and create the stone then.”
“If I can heal Fen.” Lial took a deep breath in a useless attempt to calm down. “I’ve never faced anything like this, and as such, I will not risk putting you in such close proximity. If you caught the illness, too, then you would have to stay there.”
Selia’s shoulders slumped. “Away from Iren and Aris. I know.”
“I’ll do my best to— Oh, what now?”
Lial fell silent as he detected Ralan’s mind shoving against his. Almost intruding but not quite. “Your manners are still lacking,” Lial sent as Selia and Lynia regarded him curiously.
“Kera just came through the gate to Earth,” Ralan answered, ignoring the barb. “Dria was injured, her legs pinned by stone. I know you’re busy, but they need a skilled healer immediately.”
Lial sighed. “On my way.”
“It appears I must be the one to leave,” Lial explained to the women. “There is an emergency at the outpost.”
Lynia’s eyebrows rose. “How bad?”
“Not the disease, thank the gods.” Lial tugged his long hair back and tied it firmly. “A leg injury, but one that requires immediate action.”
“Be safe,” she said softly.
Lial nodded. “I’ll endeavor to do so.”