Chapter 43

Anger smoldersin my chest as I stride through the corridors. When I took over as chieftain after Jerrod's death, I vowed to be different than him. To be diplomatic instead of heavy-handed, to lead by example instead of dictatorship.

I wanted to bring peace and prosperity to our people. But now Keel and his rebels threaten everything I've worked for. They seek to dismantle the alliances I've forged, the trade routes I've established.

I've tried to negotiate, but Keel spits in the face of diplomacy. He wants nothing but an all out war.

The anger burns hotter, and I tighten my fists. I will not let my legacy be destroyed by this rebel.

If it's a war he wants, it's a war he'll get.

Determination fuels me as I shove open the door to the bedchamber and take a calming breath, knowing Annora doesn't need me to bring this seething anger into our shared space.

As the door shuts behind me, I rotate, expecting her to be sleeping soundly on the bed, but the blankets are rumpled and empty. I glance around the room, eyes scanning over the carved furnishings, searching for any sign of Annora. Shock lances through me when I spot her lying near the corner.

I hurry to her and drop to my knees beside her limp body. "Annora."

She doesn't stir, doesn't even flinch at my touch.

I bring my fingers to the pulse point on her neck. It throbs faintly against my fingertips, but the beat is slow and thready. Too slow.

My hand shakes as I brush back a lock of her hair. "Annora, please wake up."

What happened to her while I was gone?

My mind races as I scan the room, searching for any sign of intrusion, any clue to explain her state. Nothing seems out of place.

"Guards," I call out, knowing she needs a healer urgently.

Bane reaches the bedchamber first. His eyes widen the moment he spots me next to Annora.

"Fetch a healer. Now!" The young man turns on his heel and rushes from the room, his boots pounding down the stone hallway.

Gently, I lift Annora and carry her to the mattress. I sit next to her and grip her limp hand, willing her to open her eyes, but she remains still.

Stay with me.

At last hurried footsteps sound down the hallway. Agnesa, the healer, arrives, and I reluctantly move aside to give her space.

Agnesa kneels beside the bed, places her palm on Annora's forehead, then checks her pulse. "She's still alive, My Lord. But just barely."

Lines deepen across Agnesa's brow as she leans down and fetches a square piece of parchment from her bag. Well, it looks like parchment, but it's dyed a deep blue.

The healer positions the square beneath Annora's nose. Crimson droplets splatter onto the parchment, staining it. The blood turns the square a lurid green.

Agnes's face pales as she glances up at me. "She's been poisoned, My Lord. A lethal dose, by the look of it."

No! I refuse to believe that.

"You must heal her!" I command, my voice cracking under the strain.

Agnesa's wrinkled hands tremble as she rises to her feet and steps away from the bed. "There is nothing I can do for her."

"No." I grab her arm and jerk her back toward the bed. "You will save my wife."

"Forgive me, My Lord," she says, her words strangled with sadness. "But she is beyond my skills to save. If you want her to live, you will need to bring a silver healer to her."

A silver healer?

Agnesa is asking the impossible. I cannot just request a silver healer to come here and tend to my wife.

Agnesa bows and leaves the room.

It takes every inch of discipline in me to not run after her and drag her back and demand she save Annora.

Frustration surges within me as I turn back to face the bed. Annora lies so still, so pale, her chest barely rising with each shallow breath.

I wouldn't need a silver healer if the gods had given us flames that can mend.

Fuck!

My mother could have saved her, but she is dead. For a moment, I allow that thought, then I shove it to the back of my mind.

Who else could I bring here without having to kidnap them and force them to come to Sharhavva?

My mind does a quick backtrack of the day I overheard Annora talking to her mother in the garden outside of the Bakva fortress. Annora said Emerin is a healer.

The mattress dips as I sit on the edge of the bed and bring my knuckles to Annora's cool cheek.

Would Annora's sister come here and save her life? Probably, but only if I managed to fetch Emerin without Asha knowing.

So be it.

I know what must be done.