“Dean is like a heart monitor. He tells us when she’s in pain, and where. We know that when she wakes the light is too bright for her, but apparently the same is true even when she’s unconscious. Even now light and sound are painful for her, so we whisper and we dim the room as much as we can. When she’s better, I’ll put a spell around her head so it is only her vision that’s darkened, but right now, I need to conserve my magic in case she needs me, and I don’t want any more magic around her while the curse is winning.”
“It’s winning?” Asher asked, aghast.
“For now. It’s worse this time, but I have hopes that it will settle. She’s stopped vomiting, which is a plus. I’ve been able to remove her IV line.” He pointed to a silver stand in the corner that Asher had missed seeing.
The IV stand was next to Dean, who started growling. “It’s probably best that you go now, Asher. I don’t know how much longer I can keep his lion in check. He half shifted when he knew I was bringing you in and I had to slap a pause button on it or he would have ripped you to shreds even as you were bound in my spell.”
The spell around Asher dissipated, leaving him free to move. Slowly he backed towards the door. “Is she going to die?” he asked, reluctantly.
Nick looked at him, his face bleak. “Not if I have any say in the matter.”
Asher walked out and sat on the front porch. He wouldn’t leave until she was well. Keeping vigil was the least he could do. He stripped and shifted, curling up on the small porch.
Trent merely glanced at him when he left to go back to his quarters for the night, but the others growled whenever they passed him.
Get the fuck out of here, mutt, snarled Justin one afternoon, speaking in his head, startling him. Asher had known they were talking somehow, but he hadn’t thought it was like this. It must have been the dragons using their magic.
Mrs Hardinger brought him some broth and made him shift back and eat it. She’d only just left and Justin caught him in his human form. “I can’t, I can’t leave her. I’m hers, even if we’re not bonded.”
“Then give her some fucking space.”
Asher wondered if he should tell the dragon, let him know the ironic secret, the powerful word that his wolf chanted continuously in the back of his head.
Mate, mate, mate, mate.
It was like a drum, a heartbeat, a reason to keep living. If she died, his wolf would demand that they joined her.
No, he couldn’t tell him. Not yet.
Asher didn’t know what he wanted to do. He was afraid that if she survived, she wouldn’t want him. The idea was tearing him in two. If he couldn’t have her, there would be nobody else for him. Ever. She was his mate, his sun, his moon. No matter how hard he tried to resist her, that tantalising taste of her bond would haunt him forever.
He knew he faced one of three outcomes: one, she died and he did too. Two, she lived and refused to accept his challenge—his wolf would die of shame. Three, she lived and forgave him, allowing him to challenge her again.
One chance in three; they were not good odds.
After almost two weeks, a faint hint of her scent reached his nose, and inside him, his wolf howled. Justin, who was passing him again, cocked his head. His dragon must have sensed the grief in that noise.
“She’s my mate,” Asher said, quietly.
“Fucking hell, she’s going to just love that,” Justin growled, laughing bitterly. “Just how many fucking mates can one witch have, anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t asked him, but I’m pretty sure she’s Dean’s as well. His cat went apeshit the first time he scented her. He’s been fixated ever since. Trent is just as intense. He says his fox has chosen her. I don’t know what that means for foxes, I didn’t think they had fated mates. Either way, they’re hers. She’s got us all by the balls, man, and we’ll die to protect her. Make sure you’re willing to do that too, because she fucking needs us.”
With that cryptic comment Justin walked off towards the main buildings. An hour later, he returned with a basket full of delicious scents. The dragon paused long enough to reach in and grab a couple of drumsticks, tossing them to Asher who caught them. “If you want more, fucking get it yourself,” he growled, but it was the last time that he told Asher to leave the porch.
Asher had no idea what Justin meant and he didn’t know what they would face when she finally went home, he hoped that it wasn’t to Bestia. But he held no illusions about her chances of finding another one before the end of term, although Melody had been doing well. Asher didn’t like the vibe that Professor Ludwig had given off, and even if the witch could convince her coven mistress to send an invite to Melody, he didn’t want to head there either.
If the rest of their coven were anything like Professor Ludwig, any shifter bonded to Melody would be a curiosity. Something to experiment on, someone to kick out of the way like a lazy dog, not a conscious being with their own life, their own hopes and dreams. Asher wasn’t sure that it would be much better than Melody’s coven, although at least they wouldn’t try to kill him.
It
