Most fae afflicted by the Stillness required round-the-clock care, and Cyrus was no different. Tertia refused to puther husband in a residence and instead paid for in-home care. The last time someone had dared suggest that Cyrus might be better off in a medical facility, Tertia verbally eviscerated them. Often, she showed little emotion, but Ryker knew the love his parents had for each other was as vast as the Emerald Sea.
He dipped his chin in the nurse’s direction. “Can I stay?”
The last thing he wanted to do was leave his father right now.
A small, understanding smile tugged at the nurse’s lips. Her blue eyes were kind, and she nodded.
“Of course. I’m Megan, by the way.” She glanced at Ryker’s hand, which had tightened around his father’s. “I’m sure he knows you’re here.”
Did he? Ryker wasn’t so sure about that. He hadn’t seen a flicker of life in Cyrus’s eyes since his vigil had begun.
Guilt was a heavy ball of lead in Ryker’s stomach. He should have checked on his father since the wedding, but he’d been a gods-damned coward. He hadn’t wanted to answer the questions that would have been thrown his way if he had shown up without Brynleigh.
That his mother knew what happened was bad enough, but Ryker didn’t want River to discover the truth. He didn’t want his sister to look at him like he’d made a mistake. He was supposed to protect her and be there to fix her problems, and if she knew the truth…
Ryker couldn’t bear to disappoint his sister or add another burden to her plate. Not when their father was slipping away more with each passing day.
Megan moved methodically through the room, opening drawers and gathering various implements. She withdrew several clear bottles and two empty syringes from a locked medicine cabinet, the key dangling from a cord around her wrist. She laid out her equipment, preparing the medication with steady, sure hands.
“What are you giving him?” Ryker asked after the nurse filled the firstneedle.
She flicked the top, a small bead of liquid forming over the tip, and moved to the other side of the bed.
“It’s a cocktail of drugs.” She rattled off their scientific names. The terms went over Ryker’s head, but he was certain River would know what they were. That was the benefit of having a sister who was in medical school. He made a mental note to ask her about them later.
“And these should help?” he clarified.
“Yes. After yesterday, we’re modifying them slightly. Hopefully, this will slow the Stillness, if not halt its progress altogether. Theoretically, he should be more alert in a day or two.”
Hope.
What a fickle, fickle thing. Almost as fickle as the gods River prayed to each day. What good were prayers and hope when their father was still wasting away?
No, Cyrus didn’t need hope. He needed medicine, healing, and science.
After a few minutes, Megan stepped back. She gathered her things and dipped her head in Ryker’s direction. “I’m almost done.”
She placed the used needles in a yellow bin and moved through the room, jotting down several numbers on a clipboard before returning it to the foot of the bed.
Ryker squeezed his father’s hand and met the nurse’s gaze. “How is he, really?”
Pity flickered across the nurse’s face. “He’s stable, for now.”
Those last ominous words twisted his stomach.
“Have you ever seen someone return from the Stillness?”
Her mouth pinched in a line, and she shook her head before adding, “I’m sorry, no.”
He had expected her answer. They had consulted dozens of experts when Cyrus first fell ill. But it still hurt to hear.
Megan gave him a polite smile and pointed to a red button on the wall near the door. “I’ll leave you two alone. Just hit that if you need me, and I’ll be right in.”
“Thank you.” Ryker’s chest was tight. “Is there anything I can do?”
He hated sitting by helplessly, watching his father waste away. He was the one people went to when they had problems, and he wasn’t used to feeling like there was nothing he could do.
“You should try to talk to him. Sometimes it makes a difference.”