hesitant gate reminded Kira of a little boy being called to the principal’s office. She wondered what kind of punishment his father would dish out for Octavion not keeping his oath. The king didn’t seem like the kind of man to tolerate betrayal.
At first Gregor agreed with Octavion’s assessment that her finger was broken, but after he examined it he changed his mind.
“I believe you may have shifted the bone out of the socket, my dear. It shall be easy to reset.” Then he grabbed her middle finger and yanked on it.
Kira screamed, pulled her hand away and held it close to her chest. She wanted to swear, but she was too busy fighting back the stars flitting around in her head. She didn’t remember her broken ribs hurting this much.
“My lady, I need to set it. You will lose the use of it if I do not.” Gregor tried to take her hand again, but she pushed him away.
“You don’t have a gentle bone in your body. You’re not touching me.” She drew her legs up onto the chair and buried her hand against her abdomen. “Now go away.”
He scowled. “We will see what Octavion has to say about this.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, maybe you should torture him. He’s got one nasty set of broken ribs that need looked at.”
Ussay had been quiet until Kira mentioned the ribs. She scooted to the edge of her chair with wide eyes. “You broke his ribs, too?”
Kira laughed. “I wish.” He deserved more than that for keeping the fact that Lydia had survived away from her.
Gregor let out an exaggerated sigh and sat back in his chair. “Perhaps he will give you something to help you sleep. I can set it then.”
“Knock me out? Are you insane? I’m not taking any of his crazy concoctions. Every time I do, I get sick or end up someplace I don’t want to be.”
“You will if I say.” Octavion leaned against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest and a grin on his face. “What seems to be the problem?”
Both Gregor and Kira began expressing their opinions at the same time, neither one making any sense. Ussay rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air.
“Silence!” Octavion roared.
Kira glared at him. “Excuse me?”
He smirked. “One at a time, please. Is it broken?”
“No,” they all said in unison.
“Then what is the problem?”
When they both started speaking again he held up his hand to stop them. “Gregor first.”
Kira huffed and looked away in disgust.
“The bone is out of the socket. She will not allow me to set it.” Gregor’s condescending tone set Kira’s blood boiling. They started shooting insults back and forth like siblings fighting over a toy. Ussay flopped back in her chair and folder her arms.
“Enough!” Octavion yelled, then softened his tone when he turned toward Kira. “Let me see it.” He knelt in front of Kira. “Please. I want to see for myself.”
She turned away, protecting her hand. “You first.” She smiled as wide as she could and motioned to his left side.
He tensed. “I am fine. It is only a bruise. I told you that.”
“Then it won’t hurt to have Gregor look at it.”
Ussay giggled, earning a glare from Octavion.
“Perhaps I should take a look,” Gregor said.
Octavion growled. “As you wish,
“Please remove your shirt,” Gregor asked. “I cannot examine you properly with it on.”
Octavion stiffened. “This will have to do, old man.”
As Kira watched their exchange, she could tell he hid something-so much for not having any secrets between them.
“Octavion,” Kira said. “Please do as he says or I will not let him touch my hand.”
Octavion stood in silence for a moment and then slowly pulled his shirt over his head. Ussay gasped. Kira, on the other hand, stopped breathing. His back had two long gashes, deep and raw.
Kira slowly stood, keeping her eyes on Octavion’s reaction to her seeing his injuries. His breathing was rough, the profile of his face rigid and drawn. She tried to walk around him so she could get a better view of his ribs, but he put his hand out to stop her.
“Kira, could you and Ussay please wait in the other room?” He didn’t look at her, just kept his focus on the far wall. “Please.”
Ussay quickly left the room without a word.
“I want to see.” She put her hand on his arm and urged him to release her. “No secrets, remember?”
“This is different.”
“Not to me.” When she stepped in front of him and realized what he hid from her, all the horrible memories of her own torture came flooding back. The bruise to his ribs was the least of his injuries. Bruises and small cuts riddled his chest, one of which should have been stitched, but the injury that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up was a set of deep claw marks that started at his left shoulder and angled across his chest.
She tried to control her reaction, but tears sprang to her eyes. Shandira’s evil spirit seemed to linger in the room around them, even though she knew that wasn’t possible. Kira stepped back and tried to find something to grab hold of, but only found air.
“Kira, are you well?” Gregor asked while taking her arm and helping her sit.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She wanted to ask Octavion about what had happened and where he’d gotten each and every mark, but she knew he wouldn’t tell her. She could only imagine the battle he’d been through by comparing it to the one she’d endured in the canyon and then again at the hands of the same monsters that inflicted his wounds.
Kira tried to picture Shandira in her mind and how she may have caused the claw marks. She was a sadistic creature with no conscience-Kira knew she was capable of doing anything to anyone, even her own brother and sister. How she longed to take out her own revenge on her. She’d never felt so much hate for anyone in her life. It was the same feeling of avengement she saw on Octavion’s face the day he left to hunt Shandira down. The blackness eating away at her would never be satisfied until Shandira was dead.
Octavion stood frozen like a statue, staring at nothing. He tightened his jaw and swallowed hard. “May I put my shirt back on now?”
Gregor shook his head, gently exploring Octavion’s ribs. “Not yet, son.”
He winced, but remained quiet.
Once Gregor seemed satisfied that they were indeed not broken, he gave his consent for Octavion to replace his tunic, but not before chastising him for letting the wound on his chest go without stitches.
“I’ve had worse wounds than this and they have healed without your handywork,” Octavion said.
Kira cleared her throat. “Gregor, would you please clean his wounds and put something on them? I don’t want them infected.”
Octavion protested, but she held up her crippled hand to remind him she called the shots this time. He groaned, then reluctantly allowed Gregor to put two stitches in the deepest of the cuts and clean the other wounds. The salve would have to wait until Octavion could return to his lair-he insisted on using his own mixture.
“Your turn, my love,” Octavion teased.
She’d been deep in her own thoughts and his words startled her. She was, however, grateful for the change in his mood.
Octavion sat on one of the sofas and motioned for her to sit next to him.
She halfheartedly moved to his side.
“I’ve had this happen while hunting before and so has Luka. I can put it in if you prefer.” He held out his hand.
