14. Chapter Fourteen

"Honestly, love, you handled yourself so well," Emrys echoes my thoughts. I nod, walking ahead of Nell when she lets go of my hand.

I'm in awe of the way she stood up to her mother. I did not realize just how difficult Aeryn made Nell's life until she arrived here. Even just the thought of it squeezes my heart tightly. How could anyone treat such a perfect goddess so poorly?

Then she said the words that Em and I have been waiting to hear for so long.

I choose our bond.

I will always choose you.

I had to blink away tears in that moment. This literal goddess chooses me and him? Giving up her entire world for two fae? I feel completely unworthy of her devotion…she is magnificent and deserves to have every realm in existence bow at her feet.

"You truly did, Nell. I'm so pr—" I'm cut off when a strained cough permeates the air. My head whips around, and the sight in front of me will haunt my every waking and sleeping moment for the rest of my life.

But there's no time to think about that.

Em and I run to her, and I swear time slows down just to laugh at our inability to reach her faster. Blood drains from her open mouth as she stares at the arrow jutting from her abdomen.

Why isn't she pulling it out? She's had worse injuries…she should be healing, not exuding her entire supply of blood from her lips. I narrow my eyes. Is that arrow—

"Xamira!" I scream so loudly that every individual in the area turns to us. Nell rocks slightly before dropping, and I use my air to hold her. We reach her, and I take her convulsing body in my arms and run toward the sorid I called for. "I have you, Nell. Stay awake, okay?" I plead with her, though I'm sure my words are not making it where I need.

Xamira shifts when she sees Nell, halting in front of us to allow Emrys to swing his leg over and straddle her.

"What the fuck is going on? Nell—oh gods. That's obsidian," his voice cracks. The usually calm-natured Calix begins to tremble, clearly having no idea what to do. There's only one possible thing we can do.

"Get me a sorid," I bark at Nell's best friend as I carefully transfer her to Emrys; I try to be mindful of the arrow, not wanting to spread any of the poison. An orange-red panther slides to a stop in front of me, and I do not question or thank anyone as I jump onto its back. "Xamira, the witch!" The sorids to not hesitate, jolting from their positions so quick I have to grab Amox's fur to stabilize myself.

Can Ivana help her? Nell explained that obsidian is deadly to gods, that once it's inside there's nothing that can be done. I don't believe that. If Imogen can open a fucking bridge to a new realm, Ivana can get the poison out of her.

As we leave the training grounds, I hear Calix barking orders to find whoever shot the arrow. Wind whips my face at our blinding speed, though I barely notice. My sole focus is getting Nell to Ivana. Nothing else matters.

"Please, Nell! Fucking gods, please stay! Stay awake for me, love!" Em wipes his face every few seconds, his eyes most likely as blurry as mine. He slaps her face hard, doing everything he can to keep her from succumbing to the poison. It doesn't work. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Cas she's out, I don't know what to do." I bite my lip, willing my emotions away. But it's hard—he sounds so broken and so full of fear. I've never seen him this scared in our entire lives.

"Just keep holding her, Em. We're almost there!" Thank every fucking god that their sorids are extraordinarily fast.

We fly through the city gates, and I launch myself from Amox just before he stops, running over to take Nell from my captain. I turn around and kick the witch's door in, causing every fae to jump back.

"What in the gods' names is going on!" Ivana screeches, stomping around the corner, her face heated red. She halts when she sees me, her eyes dashing from mine to Nell once before turning around and leading me to the back room. "What happened?" I place my goddess on the table, holding her on her side to keep from irritating the arrow.

"She was fucking shot with an arrow, what the fuck does it look like?"

"Emrys, enough." I don't need to look his way to know he's on the brink of fully panicking. "If you can't keep it together right now, you need to leave the room."

"Oh my…this is obsidian." Ivana's eyes widen as she carefully places her palms just around the exit wound.

"Can you help her? She'll die if you don't." I'm not proud of how squeaky my voice is.

"She might still die even if I do. I need to assess first, do not move her." She closes her eyes, and I feel the tendrils of her magic in the air that search through Nell's body just as it did when Nell had no memories. "You're both imbeciles on the best of days, but at least you had the sense to not remove the arrow. It struck her aorta, and the obsidian halts her ability to heal—she would have been dead in seconds.

"She's still losing too much blood. I need to replace the arrow with something else so I can attempt to remove the poison, hopefully allowing her to heal." She turns toward her workstation, shoving several things into her arms.

"What do we replace it with?" Emrys sounds more leveled, which I'm thankful for because I don't know if I can do this alone.

"Here." The witch shoves something in my arms; I look to see a…bottle of wine?

"What does she need this for?"

"It's not for her, it's for you two. Drink."

I share a look with Em, but I'm not about to argue with her. Pulling the cork out, I swallow a few gulps and practically toss the bottle to Emrys. When I turn to Ivana, the wine almost shoots back out of my throat. "What the fuck!" I grab the witch's wrist, ceasing her ability to touch my wife with the dagger she's holding. "I don't think so, witch."

Her crimson eyes deepen. "You listen to me right now, prince. You came to me for help. I cannot help if you do not allow me to. Let me go, and snap the back of the arrow as carefully as you can." I study her gaze for just a moment, though it feels like centuries pass.

If I don't allow her to do anything, Nell will die. She still might die under the witch"s hands, but Ivana seems to think there's a chance. I have to trust her. I nod, releasing her arm and making quick work of the arrow. I break it as close to her back as I can get and toss the god-killer to the side.

"Hold her steady." As I tighten my grip to follow the witch's instructions, Nell begins to seize. Ivana hesitates, her pale skin looking sickly green. She peers up at me, completely horrified. Shaking her head, she whispers, "We do not have the time to be careful." She pushes Nell to her back and shoves the dagger into her abdomen, creating a long incision that runs to both sides of the arrow.

I don't realize my jaw is hanging open until she yanks the incision open as wide as she can and black blood shoots from my goddess, some hitting my tongue. I gag at the taste, pushing past the rotten heat to focus on Ivana. She grabs my hand and pulls it into Nell's abdominal cavity.

She guides my fingers to a firm, thick object. My head snaps up when I feel the arrow sticking out of it. "Do you feel this?" I think I nod. "I'm going to pull the arrow out, and I need you to take this paste and cover the entry and exit wounds with it. You will need to hold it while I work, but do not squeeze too hard." She holds out a very thick, green paste that smells like a bad concoction of herbs. I grab some with my thumb and index finger, suddenly feeling completely useless.

I'm going to vomit.

"Okay, keep your right hand just over the arrow so you know where the wounds are, and apply the paste as soon as it's out." I swallow down bile, my lungs protesting as if they're getting too much oxygen. I feel lightheaded.

"Three." No, stop! I try to speak, but words fail me. "Two." No, I can do this. This is Nell's life…I have to. "One." I can't do this—she yanks the arrow out, and before I comprehend anything, I have my left hand shoving paste on each wound. It's slippery but the flesh is thick enough that I think it will hold for a short time. Hoping I did it right, I press fingers into the paste, making sure to not squeeze too much.

My mind goes completely blank. I feel the eyes of every fate watching me. The realm ceases to breathe, standing completely still as I wait to see if my beautiful Nell bleeds out right on my hand. After twenty seconds I feel it…the pulsing. A slow, but steady thump vibrates my fingers, and I let loose a wheeze.

Shutting my eyes, I focus on the pulsing. As long as I feel that, she's alive. She's still alive. Emrys sobs behind me, probably thinking the same thing I am.

Ivana begins to chant under her breath, using the dagger to slice different parts Nell. Cuts appear on her legs, arms, forehead, and down the center of her chest. I've no idea what the cost of her magic is—I never even thought to ask—but it does not matter. I will sacrifice anything except her life.

I swear hours pass as I listen to Ivana's foreign words and count the number of times Nell's blood passes by me. I'm trying to not lose myself at the fact that the time in between pulses is getting longer. I have a consuming urge to scream at the witch for taking so long, but I know it will not help. I keep the thoughts to myself and count.

Ivana covers each of Nell's wounds in a glistening, red liquid. At this point I wouldn't even think to question anything she's doing. I'm holding Nell's fucking aorta together for gods sake, so I have to trust that she knows how to fix this.

"Cas. Cas, look," Emrys breathes, his tone frantic. I turn my head and come face-to-face with black sludge seeping from the cuts Ivana made. Is that the poison?

The foul substance continues to ooze out while Nell's legs gain some color back, looking less like a rotting corpse. I watch the other cuts and nearly start bawling when the sludge exits them, too. Ivana quickly collects all of the thick poison, and Emrys jumps in to help, filling his hands over and over with it after throwing it on the ground.

Several minutes pass until the black oozing slowly turns red. When Em and Ivana have all of it cleaned off Nell, the pulsing under my fingers picks up. My eyes snap to the witch. Did she actually do it? She wipes her arm across her forehead, breathing heavily as she watches Nell intensely.

"If that worked," her quiet voice breaks the tense silence, "her body should soon begin to heal itself. Once her abdomen starts to close, you will need to remove your hand." She looks up at me, worry still heavy in her features.

"What about the internal wounds?"

She shakes her head, clearing her throat. "Her magic will heal the most life-threatening wounds first and work its way to the least worrisome."

No one speaks as we watch. Em worries his lip to the point of bleeding. Ivana stands in one spot, eyes scrutinizing my goddess with her hands extended as if she's ready to jump to action if something goes wrong. I focus on the pulsing. It's stronger, but I do not tell them that. I want it to mean she's going to be okay, but what if it doesn't? What if it means her heart is working too hard to save her?

We've been standing here so long that I'm noticing how badly my body is cramping. Everything hurts. I suddenly feel exhausted—like I haven't slept in weeks. My limbs begin to tremble, but I focus entirely on the hand inside Nell, willing it to stay completely still. I want to use my air to help, but I cannot see where my hand touches, and I've no idea what the inside of her abdomen looks like. I would most likely make things worse if I tried. So I will stand here and hold for as long as it takes.

Fingers dig into my shoulders, and I take a deep breath at the contact. Emrys helps my body slow down now that the adrenaline is wearing off. I'm thankful because I'm feeling jittery. He's softly massaging the area when there's movement next to my wrist.

"Oh my gods! It's closing. It's fucking closing!" I think I said that out loud. Breathing slowly, I wait until the wound is just about to seal around my arm before gently letting go and pulling it out. I cover my mouth with my hands, not caring that I'm probably smearing Nell's blood all over my face.

The wound seals. The only thing left on her abdomen is dried blood. The cuts on her limbs, forehead, and chest all close at the same time. When every wound disappears, the air thickens unbearably. There is no sound or movement as we stare at my bond.

We wait, and nothing changes. We wait longer, and still nothing changes. We continue waiting, the question in all of our minds shifting from will she live? to will she wake up?