Izzy

IZZY

“ W here is the female?” the medic bellows from the bedside, and I’m hustled into the room by Madame.

“She is here.” I’m given a shove towards the bed.

I was unceremoniously ushered out only a nova-hour ago, being told my presence wasn’t required and given Blayn didn’t like being touched, I’d get in the way of them doing their job.

By this time, Blayn was completely unconscious, his hand limp and his head lolling back onto the bed. I did as I was told, knowing the last thing I wanted to do was upset the dome and by default, the madame.

I scurried back to my cleaning cupboard, my heart thumping against my chest, adrenaline buzzing in my veins and tears scoring my cheeks.

Hot tears I couldn’t stop from falling, even if I wanted to. I didn’t even cry when I was abducted from Earth. But I’m crying now because when he stopped, when he passed out, it was as if a light turned off inside me, and I don’t understand what that means.

Which is when the Madame burst in and I was dragged back to the cubicle.

There are three medics surrounding the bed as I climb the stairs to the level where it’s situated. The room has a smell which is soured with antiseptic and something worse, something like rot. A roaring moan rends the air and one of the medics takes a swift step back as a hand filled with vicious claws swipes out and barely misses him.

“Come up, come up!” he shouts at me. “Come!”

I’m grabbed by the shoulder the minute I’m in range.

Blayn is on the bed, still a horrible color. He’s covered in sweat and thrashes back and forth. The wound in his side is oozing black.

“,” he moans, eyelids straining against eyes which see and don’t see.

“You’re , aren’t you?” the medic demands.

“Yes, I am,” I reply.

“Sit with him. See if it calms him.” The hand on my shoulder gives me another push downwards onto the bed, giving me no option.

And the very second I’m on the bed, Blayn stops writhing, his breathing easing slightly.

“It’s working…” the second medic says.

“Stay there,” the first one warns me. “We can’t risk knocking him out, not while he’s in this state, so this is going to hurt him. Do whatever you need to do to keep him calm.”

“He won’t let me touch him,” I say in desperation. “What can I do?”

The medic dips his chin to his chest. “He doesn’t have much choice. Do it.”

They all have various unpleasant looking implements in their hands. I look down at Blayn. His eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly blue.

I don’t want to lose him.

“Hey.” My hand hovers over his forehead, where I can feel the heat rolling from him. “You called for me. I’m here now.”

I swallow down my fear, try not to look at his weaponized hands, and steel myself, slowly, carefully brushing his hair from his forehead and out of his eyes.

Incredibly, he goes quiet, his breath still quick but not in huge huffs. He squirms briefly. I look up and one of the medics nods at me.

I’m not dead yet, so I run my knuckle down his cheek.

“I’m here, Blayn,” I say quietly, “I’m here for you.”

He expels more air from his lungs. One wing flaps weakly but the rest of him doesn’t move. One of the medics installs some sort of tube into his arm, hooking him up to a crystal bottle which hovers in the air. The other two busy themselves around his abdomen.

“?” His eyes flicker open briefly.

“Yes, it’s me,” I reply, cupping his strong jaw.

He leans into my touch, murmuring my name again.

I slide my other hand under his wing and gently move it so it is more comfortable for him, smoothing out his feathers.

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you,” I whisper in his ear.

Then his entire body arches up as the medics apply their instruments to his wound, bellowing out in pain before slumping back, once again unconscious.

“Fucking hell, did you have to do that?” I mutter, pulling at the bedclothes to mop over Blayn’s brow.

“If you wanted him to live,” the first medic says, looking over his shoulder as someone else enters the room.

It’s another medic, an older Oykig male, his scales once blue but now a grizzled gray around his head and the tip of his tail.

“What have you been doing?” he demands of the others.

They gather around him as I turn my attention back to Blayn. Some of his color has returned, his breathing less ragged. Whatever the medics did to him, it seems to have worked. I feel like I can breathe again too.

Blayn is staring at me.

I stroke his cheek.

“Sleep,” I say, quietly. “You’ll feel better if you sleep.”

“Will you keep the dark and the light away?” he rasps. “Please?”

“You want me to stay with you?”

“Please don’t let it take me.” His eyes widen.

“I won’t. I’ll stay, if you sleep,” I tell him.

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips briefly. It plucks at my insides too and I feel calm and oh-so-tired as Blayn’s eyelids struggle to stay open, lose their battle, and he is gone again.

“This is the female?” The older Oykig is next to the bed, talking to his colleagues. One of them nods.

He reaches in hesitantly, then grasps Blayn’s chin, turning his head one way and the other. My huge gladiator doesn’t make a sound or move a muscle, although the hint of a smile remains.

The medic hums with interest.

“Seems he likes you, little one,” he says to me. “You’re going to be necessary for his healing process, I believe, given Blayn doesn’t like anything…except, it seems, you.”

“I don’t know if I can.” I stumble over the words because my heart is telling me the only thing I want to do is be by Blayn’s side.

The male who smiled the best smile for me a few seconds ago, simply because I was with him, because I promised to stay with him.

“I’ll arrange it with the madame. He’s got some way to go before he’s fit enough to be moved back to the dome, and given the level of infection which has spread through his body, I don’t want to disturb his healing.” He gives me a searching look. “Gryn heal well and they heal fast, but Blayn has allowed an infection to take hold, something pretty nasty from the look of his vitals. He needs peace, quiet, rest, and, when his fever breaks, food and care. Are you prepared to do that?”

I look down at where Blayn has curled his hand around my thigh, claws fully retracted.

“Yes.” I meet the medic’s gaze. “I am.”