“It’s okay.” Casteel placed a hand on her shoulder. “She only eased his pain long enough for Magda to return.”
“But how…？” She trailed off, her brown eyes widening as she placed a hand over her chest.
Meeting Casteel’s gaze, I rose and went to another, one with eyes of winter. A wolven. I had no idea how old he was, but in mortal years, he appeared to be a decade or so older than me, his onyx-hued skin drawn into tense lines. A deep slash ran across his bared chest, where a sword had sliced open tissue and muscle.
“I’ll heal,” he said gruffly. “The others, not as easily.”
“I know.” I knelt. “That doesn’t mean you need to be in pain.”
“I suppose not.” Curiosity seeped into his eyes as he lifted his hand.
I folded mine over it, and again, I sensed there was pain that ran deeper. Years and years’ worth of sorrow. My palm warmed and tingled. “You also lost someone.”
“A long time ago.” His breath caught as his breathing slowed. “Now, I understand.”
“Understand what?”
He wasn’t looking at me. I followed his gaze to Casteel. Behind him, Alastir stood as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Maybe we should’ve warned him.
“Jasper will be interested,” the wolven said, a faint grin appearing as he leaned his head back against the flat pillow.
“I’m sure he will be,” Casteel commented, eyes lightening. “Be well, Keev.”
The wolven nodded, and I rose, curious as to who Jasper was as I moved to the man beside Keev, the one that had watched me the entire time. I started forward.
“No,” the man gritted out, sweat coursing down his face. His eyes were a shade of golden hazel. “I don’t want your touch.”
I halted.
“No offense, my Prince.” His too-shallow breaths filled the silence. “I don’t want that.”
Casteel nodded. “It’s okay.” He touched my lower back, urging me on.
I went, looking over my shoulder at the mortal with Atlantian blood. He watched me, his face already flushed with fever. I connected with him, and immediately severed the connection. The hot, acidic burst of hatred and the bitterness of distrust stunned me. Quickly looking away, I swallowed as my senses stretched out to every corner of the room, and I stumbled under the mixed rush of emotions and tastes. Iced lemonade. Sour and tart fruit. Vanilla. Sugar. Confusion and surprise. Fear and awe. Distrust. Amusement. My heart started kicking against my ribs.
Casteel’s hand flattened against my back as he glanced down at me.
“I’m okay,” I whispered as I cut off the connections, focusing only on the two women in front of me.
The older woman, her eyes a spun gold and brown, looked up at me, watched me as I shifted toward the all-too-still woman on the cot. I knew she was mortal, or at least partially. An Atlantian like Casteel would be healing, but she…
She couldn’t have been all that much older than me, her skin free of lines and untouched by age. I lowered myself, even though I sensed…nothing from the woman.
“You don’t have to do that,” the older woman said.
Hand halting inches from the waxy, limp hand of the wounded woman, I looked across her.
“I know.” She swallowed. “Your gifts would be wasted on my daughter.”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say.
She gazed down at the woman, touching her cheek and then her brow. “I heard of you before I came here. I lived in Masadonia for a time, a few years ago,” she said, surprising me. “They whispered about you—the families of those you attended, that is.”
I pulled back my hand, aware of how intently Casteel was listening.
“They said you gave dignity to those cursed.” Her skin creased as she smiled at her daughter. “Ended their pain before you ended their suffering. I didn’t believe them.” A tear dropped onto the woman’s chest. “I didn’t believe anything raised by the Ascended could give something of such worth. I didn’t believe.” She lifted her gaze to mine.
My breath caught. Her eyes… Flecks of gold seemed to burn brighter as she stared at me, stared straight into me.
“You are a second daughter,” she whispered, sending a chill through me. “Not a Maiden but Chosen nonetheless.”
Unsettled by the emotions of those in the room and the shadow of death waiting to claim the young woman, I wished to go outside where a downpour could wash away the coating on my skin.