Chapter 49

Béke Day Thirteen

Thank the Goddess, Rares appeared from thin air to help us. His oath to the Iron Crown compelled him to protect its wearer, and although it was not his own, Ruslan was in excruciating pain.

"Help me," I begged the man responsible for my entrapment in the Iron Realm, letting my dislike of him wash away as I tried to save my cousin's life. I'd poured more magic into her than I had thought myself capable of, keeping her heart beating while the Night Fae had battled just beyond a wall Drazen erected to protect us.

They'd led Kazimir away in chains, and if I hadn't been so busy trying to save Izidora, I would have taken a shot at the pathetic male before he disappeared.

The old Mage dropped to his knees beside me, immediately chanting in a rhythmic way, waving his hands in a circle around the knife still lodged in her chest. "The knife needs to come out, but she will bleed out the moment it is dislodged. I can use my magic to stem the flow of blood if you can carefully remove it."

"I can do that," I promised, focusing all my attention on the tip of the knife somewhere deep inside her.

Rares's chanting quickened, and I waited for the jerk of his head to wrap my magic around the blade and begin the most precarious lift of my life. One wrong move would end in tragedy, and I would not let my cousin die here – not when she was destined for so much more.

Drazen paced back and forth behind a collapsed Ruslan. "Stay still," I snapped at him. "We need to concentrate."

He didn't argue, settling himself down with his back to us, keeping watch should anyone attempt to return to finish what Kazimir had started.

Slowly, painstakingly, the knife began to retract, the silver of the blade invisible beneath a layer of ruby.

"That's it, keep going," Rares gritted out, resuming his spell while his gnarled hands clenched and twisted over Izidora's heart.

The blade tapered, and sweat dripped down my back as I focused on keeping it perfectly steady and upright, not wanting it to knick another blood vessel on its way out. Ruslan groaned, pushing himself upright and blinking slowly, his gray eyes cloudy with pain.

Almost there.

The tip was nearly visible, and I held my breath until the knife floated above her chest. I snatched it from the air, tossing it away so it could not harm her any longer.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ruslan rasped, and Drazen shot up from his seat, eyes raking over the four of us on the ground.

"Yes, but she is in a very fragile state right now. I need tools in my office to finish healing her," Rares muttered, still focused on stemming the blood flowing from Izidora's chest.

"Touch me," Ruslan panted as he crawled closer, putting both hands on Izidora's legs.

Drazen rushed to his side, dropping into a crouch beside him. "You are weak, Ruslan. You can't move us in this state."

"I am the most powerful Félvér to ever exist. Watch me," he growled, though the bite he intended for his words wasn't there.

Rares and I placed hands on his outstretched arms, and with a grumble, Drazen joined us. Moments later, Ruslan moved us through space until we ended up on the floor in Rares's office. The old Mage immediately barked orders to help him. Drazen rushed to fetch hot water and clean bandages, while I found the potions and instruments he required.

Ruslan was pale, his lips nearly drained of all color, but he managed to lift Izidora onto the table so we could work on her. The gentleness with which he placed her was something I never thought I would see from him, and my heart twinged for the pain he was in.

Bracing his hands on the table, he stopped the sway of his body, his attention wholly focused on his unconscious mate. "Izidora, please, please come back to me. Find your way back. I know you can do it. I'm here, please." His words slipped out so broken that I thought they might break me too. His knees hit the ground beside the table, but his hands never left his mate's arm as he rested there, feeling Izidora's pain as well as his own. Ruslan refused to let anyone stop what they were doing for her to heal the gash on his shoulder.

Rares worked over Izidora for hours, sending Drazen and me to fetch or create things for him. Eventually, he ordered Ruslan to sit and Drazen to fetch him food and water.

"Drink this," Rares instructed, tossing a small vial at Ruslan.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It will make you feel better."

After everything Rares had done to Ruslan, I never expected him to willingly drink anything Rares offered without a detailed explanation, but he pulled the stopper and tipped it into his mouth without further complaint. His eyelids drooped, and I rushed around the table, catching him under his arms as he collapsed.

"Just put him in a chair," Rares muttered, not bothering to glance up from Izidora.

I dragged him to a plush one in the corner, propping his head against the wall with a pillow. "You fixed her heart already, what is left?" I asked Rares.

"Her spine. She must have fallen into something, and it looks like she tried to heal herself. I'm undoing what she did so I can fix it properly. Otherwise, she'll never walk again."

Fuck.

"Fuck," Drazen swore, echoing my thoughts, standing in the doorway with food and water in hand. "You have to fix her, Rares."

"What does it look like I'm doing? After all the nonsense Ruslan has pulled in the past few weeks, I honestly shouldn't. But here I am, and you both should be grateful," he snapped.

Setting the tray aside, Drazen raised both hands in supplication. "Trust me, we are. You tell us what you need, and we'll make it happen."

Rares jerked his head in acknowledgment, and we lapsed into a tense silence, waiting for the outcome of Kazimir's actions to be realized.