I wasn’t kidding when I told Whitley I’d follow her into death. If she dies, I might as well end my own life as well. Otherwise, I’ll slowly succumb to the insanity others have experienced.
Stopping in front of Astrid, I ask the question I’ve been too afraid to say out loud. “Will she live?”
“Not if you take her now,” she replies softly, granting me a rare show of sympathy. “Her body is broken, my king. Bringing her to Valora won’t change that.”
“So what am I to do?”
“Go to her but don’t dally. Become familiar with the surroundings. It’s very important that you know your way around the room for the next time.”
I nod, accepting Astrid’s advice as absolute truth. When it comes down to it, I trust her. She hasn’t failed me yet.
Finding another place to sit, I allow her to finish my haircut. She isn’t taking off much. Just six inches or so. Which means she’s probably going to ask for more later. At least I’ll still have enough to cover my pointy ears, which is essential for travel to the human realm.
Anticipation courses through me as she makes it to the other side of my head. In minutes, I could be with Whitley. By her side. Touching her for real.
I just wish it were under better circumstances. I’ve waited thousands of years to meet my mate, and she won’t even know I’m there.
No matter. This is the beginning of our love story. What a unique tale we’ll get to tell our children.
“Done,” Astrid announces, going over to the closet before handing me a shirt.
As I slip it over my head, I realize it’s a human garment. A sweatshirt with a hood. She’s been preparing for this. She knew this day would come.
“Thank you,” I say, humbled and grateful.
Taking my elbow, Astrid guides me to a corner as she continues, “Remember—fifteen minutes. You’ll hear the portal when it starts to close, and you better bring your royal butt back here unless you want to be stuck there with no way to help Whitley. Oh, and one more thing…”
“Yes?” I prompt impatiently.
“I’ll need a strand of her hair. Just one will do. Pluck it out at the root.”
Not wanting to delay with questions, I nod.
A second later, I hear the portal slipping from her palm. When it hits the floor, a burst of magic comes at me. The clock is ticking now.
I rush forward, and cool humid air coats my skin as I walk through the barrier.
Immediately calling on my other senses, I try to get a good picture of where I am. From the way the sounds bounce off the walls, I’d say the room is approximately twelve by fourteen feet.
My ear twitches as I listen to the hum of the machines, Whitley’s heartbeat, and her rhythmic breathing generated by the equipment.
I follow a faint dripping sound, and I sense a large object in front of me. A bed. My fingers meet scratchy cotton sheets at the end of the mattress.
Dragging my hand along the side, my pulse quickens as I walk forward.
This mate business is no joke. Whitley’s nearness fills my veins with a buzzing sensation that increases with every inch I close between us.
Finally, my fingertips connect with hers.
I gasp as a shockwave ripples through my body. This is way more intense than when we touched in her dream. A sizzle ignites in my chest, then the warmth spreads outward. Down through my stomach. Into my cock.
Inappropriate time to get an erection, but it’s a reaction I can’t help.
After adjusting the front of my pants, I slip my hand under Whitley’s. I wish I could lie with her and hold her in my arms.
Beneath the strong antiseptic, I can smell her. It’s the sweetest scent, like midnight roses, ice berries, and honey got all mashed up and bottled into a concentrated serum.
I want to bury my nose in her hair, lick her neck, and taste her mouth.
And her cute fucking chin. I still remember the way the indent felt against my lips when I kissed her in her dream.
I rub my thumb over her knuckles. Her skin is so soft, but when I move up to her wrist, I find a curious contraption there. There’s tape and a piece of plastic attached to her skin. When I inspect the mechanism further, I realize a needle has been inserted into her vein. It’s hooked up to a tube of some sort. I examine the length of it with my fingers until it ends at a bag of fluid.
Knowing I don’t have much time, I continue my study of all the machines hooked up to Whitley’s body. It’s disconcerting to feel the pipe going into her mouth, the tape on her cheeks, and the bandage on her head.
More wires are attached to her in various places, each ending at little round pads that are stuck to her skin.
“She’s surrounded with buttons and strings,” I whisper the first part of my curse’s clue, my voice cracking with emotion.
I’d been convinced my mate was a seamstress. Maybe a dressmaker or a lady in waiting. Not only did I make a registry of every female in Valora possibly fitting that role, I then invaded the minds of their family and friends, just on the chance that I might catch a glimpse of her.
So much wasted time.
These aren’t sewing materials.
They’re Whitley’s lifeline.
“I’m so sorry. If only I’d found you sooner,” I say quietly, but I rub my temple as a feeling of reluctant acceptance settles over me.
The terms of the curse were foretold over two millennia ago. It was always going to happen this way, regardless of what I did or didn’t do.
All-consuming guilt isn’t going to help.
It’s time for action.
After memorizing the setup around Whitley’s bed, I make my way across the room to a chair. A bathroom in the far corner. A door to the outside where I hear the shuffling of feet and muffled voices in the distance.
There’s a row of cabinets and drawers along one wall. I open them one by one, looking for something that might belong to Whitley.
I find nothing. Other than some robe-like garments that smell strongly of the hospital, there are no clothes.
Once I’m familiar with the entire area, I drag the chair over to the bed and sit.
I’ve got a few minutes to spare, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take the opportunity to spend them with my mate.
I’m not sure where to touch her. I don’t want to cause her anymore pain, so I settle for hooking my pinky finger with hers.
“Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have my sight right now. Seeing you covered in blood was bad enough. It might be my undoing to witness the damage further. I already hurt for you.”
And it’s true. My head throbs and there’s an aching in my gut. It’s been said that fated mates can feel when the other is injured. After the bond is complete, that is.
In rare cases, the connection is strong from the beginning.
Like ours. I’m almost glad Whitley’s pain echoes through me, because it makes me feel closer to her.
I stiffen when the doorknob clicks behind me.
“Um, excuse me, sir. How did you get in here?”
Without turning around, I reply, “Just visiting.”
“Visitors aren’t allowed right now. How did you get past the desk?”
I have no idea what desk she’s talking about. “I just walked right in. No one tried to stop me.”
Truth.
“Well.” She comes closer. “You can come back tomorrow, but even then, only family is permitted to see the patient.”