36. Chapter Thirty-Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

EZRA'S POV

I t's been two days since we found Micai unconscious on her bed, burning up with an unnatural fever and whimpering in pain.

Annex, Mallyn and I brought her to the abattoir, and have had four different healers look at her, even a human doctor. But nobody can pinpoint why her fever won't break or what kind of pain she's in.

We've fed her multiple potions to help her with her fever and pain, but nothing seems to be working.

Creed has called numerous contacts and pulled in a few favours to get a revered shaman to come and take a look at her. But until they arrive, we have to wait, watching over her and hoping that she gets better.

A small whimper leaves her lips as I take the seat next to Annex's bed, taking her hand in mine and trying to soothe her in some way.

How I wish I were born as some type of healer or an elf or Fae who naturally knew about the ways of medicine. Maybe then I could be of more use to her?

I peer around the room, noticing small bundles of Micai's clothes and toiletries from her dorm room. Annex and Mallyn had brought them over, wanting her to have everything she needs around her here, so she wouldn't have to leave. Unfortunately, it only made us all too aware of the fact that Micai hasn't been given all the things she's deserved over the years. The things taken from her old and worn-out drawers were too few and too basic for our beautiful mate. Something we will soon remedy.

I also think Annex brought them here to help soothe himself. He has become even more crazed and erratic than before, not willing to part with her throughout the night and placing her in his room.

I brush small circles across her skin, the contact helping to soothe the slight ache working its way into my chest as I gaze at my beautiful unconscious mate.

For whatever reason, we couldn't help her. Not even our bonds that tie us together gave us the ability to take her pain away or understand what she's feeling. I think this fever and pain is something more profound, and something forming in the depths of her.

My mother used to tell me that when Sirens were young and growing into their adolescent phase, we sometimes go through an ‘Awakening'.

It's when we come into our strength and power…and scales. Our magical abilities would grow to new heights as we develop with more time and become more capable of handling those abilities. But the transformation we had to undergo was…brutal.

She used to say it was a dangerous phase and that the weaker of our kind would pass away during it, not able to endure its harsh pain. She told me that an elder— usually a parent —would guild their youngling through it and help them pass it without too much difficulty.

Unfortunately, she wasn't able to be there for mine.

I watch Micai, wondering if this was something similar, some trial or transformation that she was going through.

She said she had grown more powerful since receiving the marks on her body. Maybe they had something to do with this?

Brushing my fingers along her soft pink cheek, I remind myself how strong she is and how many times she has surprised us with her strength and fearlessness.

This wouldn't defeat my mate. She was made of powerful stuff.

And no matter what it is, we would weather it together.

Her brows pinch together, a look of pain streaked across her face as I gently squeeze her hand. A tightness wraps itself around my heart, seeing her in so much pain and unable to help her.

Whether this was some trial or awakening, I wish I could take it away or transfer it to myself. I would take every drop of her pain and agony, and at tenfold if it meant she didn't have to bear it for a second longer.

My fingers stroke through her hair, a little hum flowing from my lips as I call my magic to soothe her as much as possible.

Her brows unknit, a soft smile coating her lips as I continue humming, her face leaning toward my touch as she mumbles something softly.

‘Zrael' .

My brows knit together. Did I tell Micai my full name before?

It's not something I usually talk about or tell people.

Ezrael was the name my beloved mother gave me…And called out when she died. It wasn't something I could bear hearing other people call me anymore.

But now, listening to it leaving Micai's lips, the soft and endearing way it sounds as she calls me…It wraps itself around me, reminding me instantly of the love it holds and the woman who gave it to me. My breath catches in my throat with her memory, and a single stray tear drips down my cheeks, followed by another and another.

How I missed her…

I look at my mate, wiping my tears away as I feel her forehead, her skin still too hot to touch. I begin to hum again, wrapping my soft melody and magic around her. She once again leans into my hand, finding some small relief in it, and her soft smile grows slightly.

When she wakes up, I am going to tell her everything, even the most challenging parts of my past. I think my little sea star also had a pain like my own buried deep inside her. And we both needed help to heal these wounds.

A crash and thud from downstairs pulls my attention toward the door. My brows narrow as it rings out again. We shouldn't be able to hear anything from the abattoir, especially from all the way up here. Even during Fight Nights, it was spelled to be silent.

Unless…it was something much bigger.

I pull myself up and away from Micai, pushing my magic out and toward each corner of the room, forming a protection spell that will keep any danger toward Micai out and from entering this space.

I make my way toward the door as a loud rumble echoes out around the hall. I open it softly, glancing at Micai before closing it carefully behind me. I call my magic to me as I head down the stairway toward the abattoir's doors.

Whatever this was, it wasn't getting anywhere near my mate.

Micai's POV

The sweet humming noise fades, and the tender dream of Zrael's voice next to me fades as his presence leaves me once again.

I reach out toward him, trying to hold on, but my body protests with the slight movement.

I open my eyes, light shining in through familiar black velvet curtains as I look around at my surroundings. Peering around more, I notice I'm no longer in my own room, but in Annex's. I'm also no longer wearing my black little dress but soft jersey pyjamas instead.

I slowly pull myself up, the unbearable pain and heat that had been tormenting me now gone as my consciousness becomes stronger and more clear by the minute.

I'm still slightly achy and sore, but my body no longer feels heavy or in pain. When I stretch my arms and legs out, they feel lighter and better than ever.

I pull the duvet cover off of me and roll my shoulders. How long had I been unconscious for?

A crashing sound rumbles from the hallway, followed by a loud roar with shouting sounds in the distance.

I glance around. Where were the guys?

I pull myself from the bed, panic setting in as the noise continues.

A dizzy spell hits me as I try to move too quickly. I grip onto the bed frame and continue moving toward the door, hoping everything is okay. And that maybe Annex was just pissed at someone for looking at him too cheerily.

I open the door, the sounds of explosions and shouting growing louder. And all hope of Annex throwing a hissy-fit falls away.

I need to get down there and help them somehow.

I move faster, an urgency running through my veins as I clear the blurriness from my eyes and the light-headedness trying to take hold of me. I push them back and shuffle down the stairway toward the large abattoir doors.

The doors shake and creak, a thundering roar ripping through the small cracks formed on them as chaos continues to rage behind them.

I grip the handle with both hands and pull, opening up to all pandemonium.

Men, all clad in black, spread out throughout the abattoir and are fighting the boys. Their faces are covered, but their attire looks vaguely similar to the ones worn by the group that attacked Erving's place.

Creed stands to my far right and is fighting off ten men, his black coils swirling around him and snapping out at those trying to attack him.

I hear a shout and turn toward Annex, who's standing on top of the bar, half of which is now destroyed. A dozen men surround him on all sides, trying to attack him as he wields two large machetes covered in blood.

A familiar loud growl echoes from over by the VIP section, pulling my attention away as Mallyn's beast rips apart the warlocks, attempting to restrain him with their magic. The area around him is completely destroyed, and a huge hole now sits in the abattoir's wall.

Ezra is the closest to me on my left, surrounded by seven or eight men who all wield blades or are forming magical attacks.

He knocks two back with ease, his strength surprising even me. But as he's dealing with the other ones in front of him, one attacker creeps behind him and pulls out a silver gun. The magical engraving on its barrel is instantly recognizable as one that's used for putting down feral shifters. He holds it up and aims it toward an unsuspecting Ezra.

My heart instantly surges into my throat. Everything comes to a slow crawl around me as a bloodcurdling panic sets in.

Ezra didn't have Annex's ability. He couldn't revive or return if he was shot head-on by an enforced magical weapon.

I open my mouth to shout to him, to tell him to move and dodge the attack. But it was too late.

The gun fires…

Please, Gods no. I couldn't lose him.

A scream rings out in my ears as my hands reach out toward him. A strange new feeling bubbles up inside me as my veins begin to burn, every inch and fibre of me screaming and willing myself to move faster, to get to him, to save him.

For someone or something to reach him in time.

To protect him .