Page 8 of The Marked and the Broken
“It’s okay,” I offer Nash with a pained croak. “My magic always does weird shit when I felt threatened,” I try to explain, but it’s hard to get the air out to speak and then back in to breathe. If it didn’t fucking hurt so bad, I might actually find this funny. I’ve been trying to get the guys to fight with me and deliver blows like this since they got their runes, but they refuse. At least Nash will be better equipped the next time he goes to stab someone on purpose. He’ll know what it feels like and rebound better in a fight because of it.
My eyes bounce from Nash’s dark blue terrified gaze to Ryker’s bright blue assessing stare as he moves over to us. His hand presses next to where the blue blade sticks out of my back, and I can feel his Healing magic as it moves through me.
“Don’t let go of the magic or the blade yet,” Ryker instructs Nash. “Let me deal with what internal damage I can first.”
Nash nods, and I feel his grip tighten on the handle under mine. “I’m so sorry, Vinna. I swear by the stars, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Nash tells me over and over again as Ryker continues to magically put me back together. I can’t talk very well, so I just pat Nash’s shoulder reassuringly and hope it communicates that I’m not mad.
“Okay, that should keep her from bleeding faster than we can fix once the sword is out. Alright, Nash, when you’re ready, you can let go of the handle, and the sword should disappear. Then I’m going to need you to heal what you can from the front while I work on the back.”
Nash seems to gain some composure with Ryker’s instructions, and he looks at me for a second and then back at Ryker. He gives him a nod, and then he lets go of the handle and immediately presses his palms into my stomach.
Motherfucker!I shout internally, and externally I cry out hoarsely.
“Shit, the sword’s still in her!” Nash announces, and he presses harder against the wound in my stomach.
“You have to let go of the magic,” Valen tells Nash calmly, his cadence patient and his tone reassuring. He joins Ryker, Nash and me, and puts his hand on Nash’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath and feel for the tether of new magic in your chest. It will feel familiar but different than the Healing magic you’ve always had.” Nash does exactly what Valen’s hypnotic voice instructs him to do, and in a blink, the short sword disappears from where it was sitting in my abdomen.
Healing magic slams into me, and Ryker and Nash sandwich me between them as they both work to fix my giant stab wound. I can feel subtle differences in their magic as it swells through me, knitting organs, muscle, and tissue together. The pain recedes, and I fill my lungs with a deep grateful breath. I give Valen a reassuring smile, and as soon as I do, he yanks Nash away from me.
“Fuck, Fierro, I wasn’t finished,” Nash objects, but the rest of my Chosen close ranks and move Nash, Enoch and Kallan farther away from me.
“We’ll take care ofourmate from here. You’ve done enough,” Valen tells him.
I turn to tell him to knock it the fuck off, but Ryker pulls his palm away from my back. He’s got an arm behind my knees in a blink, and he swings me up into a bridal carry before I can even find my voice to object. He hurries me away to the back of the plane and sits down, setting me in his lap. Ryker immediately shoves his hand up my shirt and pushes more Healing magic into me to get anything that Nash might have missed.
I grab his chin and turn his attention to my face. “It was an accident, Ryker,” I tell him, urging him with my eyes not to look so completely and utterly pissed.
His magic surges into me for a couple seconds more, and then he pulls it back. He leaves his warm hand on my stomach and puts his other palm on the back of my neck. He pulls my head down and presses his forehead to mine. Ryker huffs out a worried breath, and I run my fingers soothingly through his shoulder-length blond hair.
“You could have been hurt so much worse,” he tells me, his tone haunted.
“But I wasn’t. They’ll get control over their magic, and it will be fine. This was a fluke, not an assassination attempt,” I challenge and shoot a look over my shoulder at the rest of my guys who are standing guard to keep everyone else away from me. “Besides, I’ve never been stabbed before. Now I know what it feels like, and I’ll be more prepared to deal with it next time,” I reassure them, and Ryker shakes his head at me.
“Of course you would think somehow taking a sword to your gut is a good thing, you weirdo,” Ryker chuckles, and he pulls my lips to his. I open for him, but Ryker doesn’t deepen the kiss the way I’m encouraging him to. He kisses me slowly, savoring my lips, and I can taste the worry and the relief in it.
“You know you like my weird,” I tease as I pull away.
“It’s a good thing you’re hot, Squeaks, with some of the shit you put us through,” he teases, and I chuckle and play with the ends of his hair.
“I didn’t know you and Enoch used to be friends,” I tell him, curious about the history that spilled out with this fight.
Ryker gives me a peck and runs his thumb across my cheek. “Yeah, we were close when we were younger,” he admits, but then his features shutter, and it’s clear that he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to ask him if he thinks Enoch knew about the neglect and what he was going through with his father, but I don’t want to press him. He looked conflicted when Knox and Enoch were fighting about it, and I suspect maybe he doesn’t really know what to think or how to feel. The tinge of sadness in his eyes makes me ache, and I want him to know it’s okay if he tucks this piece of pain away again. He doesn’t have to look at it just because I want him to.
“Think we can kick Evrin or Aydin out of one of the beds in the back and go make out?” I ask, my body warming as his fingers graze the skin of my abdomen, his lips mere inches from mine. A spark of relief and then heat fills his gaze, and I can practically see some of the weight and pain lift off of him. A flash of Ryker sucking on my nipple and pinching the other with his fingers, while Knox circled my clit with his tongue, pops into my head. I nuzzle the tip of his nose with mine, and Ryker laughs and thentsksreproachfully at me.
“You are recovering from a stab wound,” he argues.
“No, I’ve recovered from a stab wound. There’s a difference,” I tease.
Ryker’s beautiful blue eyes fill with heat, and his full lips turn up into a dazzling smile that takes my breath away. He’s so incredibly beautiful both inside and out, and I don’t know where I would be without him and the others. I hate that they’re mad about this whole situation, and I desperately want to go back to all of us joking and having fun with each other. Maybe we can just run away from all of this drama and foreboding shit. Hole up on an island out in the middle of the ocean, where clothing is optional and our problems can’t find us.
“Mmmm, Squeaks, you have no idea how much I’d love to disappear somewhere with you and discover how many times I can make you scream, but I want to take my time the next chance I get to play with you,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, and goosebumps speckle my skin. “When all of this shit that’s going on settles, you and I are locking ourselves in a room for a week. We’ll live off of orgasms and granola bars and be so noisy that no one else will be able to get anything done in the rest of the house,” he tells me, and I can feel the smile in his voice. “What do you think, Squeaks, are you in or out?”
A loud laugh escapes my lips, and I think back to the night Ryker and I were first together and I laid down that same challenge. I press a hand against Ryker’s chest until we’re face to face again, and I place a tender and worshipping kiss on his lips. I tap on my soul, and it unveils the words that Ryker deposited that night. I pull back and stare into his bright blue eyes, my gaze radiating everything he means to me.
“In. I’ll always be in when it comes to you.”
4
