Page 141 of Ashborne Phoenix

‘I can never know the fullness of the Creator’s plan. But I know His heart. I do not believe He is finished with Grace.’

Grace was naked, but the blood-soaked bandage we’d created out of Cali’s robe remained, caked and plastered to her stomach by her own blood.

I urged her not to look, and found the knot at her side that Cali had tied to keep the pressure on the wound. It was crusted and stained. By the time I’d loosened it, flakes of dried blood peppered the carpet like near-black snowflakes. Then I began to unwind the strip of fabric and felt nauseous.

It peeled from her, coming away heavy and stiff on the outer layers, the near-black of dried blood blending to bright red, still wet on the inner layers.

When she was finally free, I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

The gash on her lower stomach was angry, red, and as long as my hand. As if my mother had truly tried to gut her—plunged the knife in, then yanked it across.

My fingers trembled as I knelt before her to examine it. Grace looked down at me and tried to reassure me.

“I’m not lying. It doesn’t hurt. It did. But it’s stopped now. There’s no pain. And no new blood—look!”

No new blood, because the flesh had been sealed by a spell. But how accurately? Could there be bleeding under her skin?

I had to find out what Cali had used on her.

“I’m well, Voski. Look at me.” Grace took my face in her hands and lifted my chin. “I’m here. I love you. I’m not hurting.”

But for how long?

Help her, I prayed. I nodded into her grip, then tipped forward to place a careful kiss on her chest, right over the spot where she’d feel our bond—which glowed, and pulsed now. Thriving.

There was no more barrier. No more distance. She was as close to me as my own thoughts.

Then I got to my feet and helped her into the tub. I removed my jacket and shirt and, despite her protests, insisted she let me wash her—it gave me something to do while my thoughts raced. And allowed me an excuse to examine her wound more closely.

But there was nothing more I could see even after she was clean.

If she had been bleeding internally, it had been stopped in its tracks. There was none of the telltale darkening flush of the skin, or horrific bruising. Not even strange swelling.

Just my mate’s beautiful belly marred by the ugly seam of a wound. Or, what would have been a wound.

When she was clean, her eyes were hooded with weariness. I feared she might faint, but she assured me she was merely sleepy. Rest could only be good for her, so I helped her into a soft nightdress, and tucked her into bed. Then I lay with her, stroking her hair until she fell into a deep sleep.

When her breathing was slow and steady, and she didn’t stir if I moved, I eased myself off the bed, closed the door into the bedchamber slowly so it wouldn’t make noise, then removed the chair from the door into the hallway.

As expected, there was a battery of servants and guards outside. Including Jade, sitting on a bench looking worried.

She rose from the seat, smoothing her skirts nervously. “My lord… can I help?”

“Tell me where they put Cali,” I said abruptly.

Jade’s lips tightened. “They said you instructed rooms for her on this wing. She’s at the end of the corridor,” she said, bowing her head like she thought I might be displeased.

I turned and strode down the hall. “If Grace wakes, only Jade is to enter to see her,” I snapped at them as I left.

I wasn’t sure which room they’d given her, but as I approached the end of the hall, a maid stepped out of one of the rooms, saw me approaching and squeaked as she dropped into a curtsey. “My lord! We—”

“Has a physician seen her?”

The woman kept her eyes downcast, but nodded. “She is bathed and bandaged and her wounds treated.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not. “Is she conscious? Is she making sense?”

“Yes. She’s in pain, but awake.”