The guards nod and leave, eyes glassy with the compulsion of the aether-voice. I turn my attention back to Thorne. Lunaria appears at my side, nuzzling my thigh before considering Thorne. Her yellow eyes study him while she sniffs his wounds, hissing at whatever she smells. Her reaction only makes the terror I’m barely holding at bay seep out of the walls I keep firmly in place around it. My breaths come in deep pants as I try and fail to heal his wounds with every magic available to me. Soothing water, warm light, and medicinal plants gently cover his wounds to no avail. Sobs wrack my body, but I keep going, hurling every bit of magic I can at my mate, despite feeling the shakiness of burnout quickly approaching. I lost all sense of self in that fight, completely at the whims of the mating bond, and thus did nothing to conserve my power.

Lunaria pads to the wine shelf and yowls loudly. I look on in confusion as she paces back and forth in front of it, clearly trying to tell me something. Before I can determine what she means, there’s a knock at the door, and I yell for whoever it is to come in, hoping it’s Admon. The only Thayarian I truly trust anymore opens the door and his face goes white. Admon quickly walks toward Thorne and me and Lunaria hisses at him before she disappears.

“What happened?” he asks, voice filled with concern.

“The rebels. They attacked the festival. We went after them, but they got away. I only managed to get Thorne and me out. He was hit with three iron arrows,” I explain, breathless and fearful.

“What about Fionn and Silene?”

Grief wraps around me like a blanket. “The rebels took them,” I whisper, tears running down my cheeks. I wipe them away. “Can you help me heal Thorne faster? He and I can go after Silene and Fionn, but we have to heal him first. I can’t—I need him.” The last words come out a whimper, and were they in front of anyone but Admon, I would cringe with the vulnerability I’ve displayed. But Admon has been by my side through so many tragedies, has provided the comfort of a parent even as I grieved the death of my own mother and father.

Admon looks at Thorne’s wounds, then shakes his head. “I’m afraid these wounds are beyond my abilities. Nemesia may be able to help, but it would take several days of being removed from the iron influence for her to recover the strength. Thorne will recover, it will just take some time. Remove the iron still buried in his wounds, then set him up with the palace healers.”