“The wolves are retreating,” Merral panted, half-carrying her as they stumbled toward clearer air. “The fire will be contained soon.”
The sounds of battle were indeed fading, replaced by the shouts of shifters organizing bucket lines. The town square was a scarred, smoldering tableau, but it was standing.
They had held.
By the time they reached the transport vehicle parked at the edge of the chaos, Faith’s body was a symphony of pain. Blisters had risen in angry welts along her right arm. Her ankle was a swollen, throbbing mess. She was vaguely aware of being helped into the back seat, of Liora bundling a cloth around her burns.
Then he was there. Kovrak emerged from the thinning smoke, naked and bloodied. His eyes, those pale blue lasers, scanned the area with frenzied intensity until they landed on her. The command in his frame dissolved when he realized she was injured.
He crossed the distance in three long strides, and slid into the seat beside her, his body a wall of heat and coiled power.
“Drive,” he growled at Thalen, who was already behind the controls, his own face grim.
Then his attention was entirely on her. His hands came up to frame her face with a touch that was devastatingly gentle. He brushed a streak of soot from her cheek. His gaze traced the burns on her arm and the awkward angle of her ankle.
“Look at you,” he murmured, the words rough. His eyes lifted to hers, the storm in them shifting from fear to something fiercer. A possessive, blazing pride. “You magnificent, infuriating creature. You stood your ground. You protected my people.”
He carefully gathered her against him, ignoring the way his bare skin was smeared with soot, sweat, and blood. He comforted her as they made their way to the palace, his arm a steel band around her shoulders, holding her close to the solid beat of his heart.
“The healers will fix you up in no time.” His voice was a vow, spoken against her hair. “And then, you will be under my personal care for the next few days,” he added, the rumble deepening into a promise that heated her blood despite the pain.
She wanted to protest. To tell him that she could handle her own recovery. But the thought of him wanting to take care of her and ease her pain, loosened something inside her chest.
This man really did care deeply for her.
“Thank you,” she managed as she nestled deeper into his protective embrace.
FOURTEEN
KOVRAK
The transport’s wheels ground against cobblestone outside the palace’s front entrance, and Kovrak threw open the door before the vehicle had fully stopped. He’d managed to pull on the spare clothes Thalen kept in the back—dark shorts and a fitted t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders—but his focus was entirely on Faith now.
He ran around the side of the transport, opened her door, and pulled her gently into his arms. She felt weightless, too fragile, her strength bleeding away with each labored breath. The yellow sundress that had looked so radiant in the afternoon light now hung in charred tatters. Her skin beneath was pale as moonlight, save for the angry red welts climbing her right arm.
“Breathe, Faith. Nice and easy.” His voice was steel wrapped in silk as he strode through the palace’s towering entrance.
She stirred against him, those warm brown eyes fluttering open with obvious effort. “I’m fine,” she whispered, the words barely audible through smoke-roughened vocal cords.
“No.” The single word carried absolute authority. “You are not fine.”
His tiger prowled beneath his skin, agitated by her scent—smoke and pain layered over the lilac and cinnamon that waspurely her. The beast wanted to rage, to snarl, to find something to destroy in retaliation for her suffering. Instead, Kovrak channeled that primal energy into purposeful motion, his long strides eating up the stone corridors toward the medical wing.
Her fingers caught weakly at his shirt as they passed beneath an archway lined with ancestral portraits. “There was a child,” she murmured, her voice gaining a thread of strength. “Trapped under the food stall. I just... I couldn’t leave him.”
The admission hit him with powerful force. Not surprise—he’d expected nothing less from her—but awe that made his chest tighten. She hadn’t calculated risk or weighed consequences. She’d simply acted, the way a true queen would act.
The way his mother had acted, all those years ago.
The memory surfaced unbidden: his mother’s fierce blue eyes as she’d positioned herself between a rogue shifter and a group of children.
“You are truly special, Faith,” he breathed against her temple. “You have a queenly instinct that is rare.”
The medical wing’s doors swung open at his approach, healers rushing forward with practiced efficiency. The lead healer, a woman named Kestra, gestured toward a narrow bed positioned beneath bright overhead lighting.
“Set her down carefully, Your Highness. Let us assess the damage.”
Kovrak lowered Faith onto the pristine white sheets with infinite care, his hands lingering on her until she was fully settled. Kestra’s skilled hands moved over Faith’s injuries with gentle precision. The cloth bandage Liora had wrapped around her arm fell away, revealing blistered skin that made Kovrak’s jaw clench. The healer’s expression remained neutral as she examined the burns, but her quick movements spoke of urgency.