“Out,” Cassanra demanded. “We need to extract the trillis.”
“He’s hurting,” the beautiful redhead whispered.
“Once it’s done, he’ll heal.”
More agonized screams came from the room, and Poppy ground her teeth together.
His family were all white-faced, his mother’s face twisted with agony.
“He’s very strong,” Poppy said.
Their heads swiveled to look at her.
“I helped find him. He held on the whole way back.”
Fillian’s mother shifted and dropped down by Poppy, her eyes shining. She grabbed Poppy’s hand—thankfully, her uninjured one.
The younger redhead was eyeing Poppy, uncertain.
“The healers and Brodin are with him,” Poppy said. “He’s going to be fine.”
The mother relaxed. “He will be.”
Poppy just wanted them all to stay calm and relaxed. Slowly, she felt the tension in them lessen.
As the stress in the room lowered, Poppy felt a heaviness growing in her chest. She managed a smile, wanting them to feel relief.
Then Brodin came out. His broad chest was bare, but someone had found him a pair of loose, black trousers that sat low on his hips. His gaze moved to her, then swept to the family. “The extraction is finished.”
“Thank the wolves,” Fillian’s father muttered.
“You can see him now.”
Fillian’s mother rushed out of the waiting room. Poppy watched Brodin talk quietly with the rest of the injured man’s family. She watched the way they leaned on him, drew on his strength.
When he turned to her, his face looked grim and tired. Did no one see the anger and sorrow boiling in his blue eyes? See the tension in his big body?
She wondered who Brodin turned to when it all felt like too much.
He held out a hand and she took it.
Chapter Six
As they walked back toward Brodin’s cabin, Brodin didn’t let go of Poppy’s hand. She was okay with that. She squeezed his fingers.
The sun was rising, spreading golden light over the valley.
“You must be tired.” At least she’d had a few hours of sleep before she’d woken up. Brodin hadn’t slept at all.
He grunted.
She felt the tension throbbing off him.
She knew he must be angry at what had been done to Fillian. How would it feel to know that your father was attacking and hurting your people, all as a way to get to you?
At his cabin, she was surprised to see the broken front door was fixed. Clearly someone kept the emperor’s home clean and maintained.
He towed her inside, then he let her go and stalked across the living area. He reached the fireplace, his hands curling into fists. The muscles in his back flexed.
Poppy released a breath and walked to him. She hated seeing him suffer in silence like this.
She pressed her palm to his back and felt him tense up even more. “Talk to me.”
He made a sound. “I can’t.”
Her heart contracted. “Someone else then. What you’re feeling is tearing you up.”
He pressed a palm to the stone of the fireplace, his head bowed. “There’s no one. I’m the emperor. I have to be strong. I have to show my people the strength and solid foundation they need. Any sign of weakness from the emperor could destabilize the pack.”
“That sounds very lonely. You might be the emperor, but you’re still a man, Brodin. You still have feelings.” She leaned into him. “It’s just us right now. You can lean on me.”
Brodin spun, his turbulent blue eyes burning into her. He yanked her close, lifting her off her feet. She barely controlled her squeak of surprise. Then he held her tightly and buried his face in her hair.
Poppy wrapped her arms around him and relaxed against him. Slowly, his breathing evened out, got deeper. She felt some of his muscles relax.
Then he carried her to the couch and dropped down. He kept her pinned close to his side.
“I can’t let my people down. I vowed on my mother’s grave that I wouldn’t.”
“You lost your mother?” Poppy asked carefully.
A short nod. “When I was in my early twenties. She died in an accident. I became emperor.”
And had gone from young man to ruler of an entire planet of strong shapeshifters in the blink of an eye. So much responsibility.
“It’s hard to lose the people you love,” she said.
His gaze focused on her. “Like you lost your sister.”
She nodded. “We grew up on a farm. She was outside playing. I was sitting on the front porch, reading a book.” A faint smile. “I was always reading.” Her smile faded. “A heavy piece of farm equipment fell on Lo. My father was shouting, and I raced over there. Lo was bleeding, in so much pain.” Poppy drew in a breath. “Dad’s heavy lifter was broken. He’d been waiting on a part. He tried to lift the equipment off her, but it was too heavy. I held her hand, so she wasn’t alone.” And watched the light fade from her lively sister’s eyes. “Lo wanted to be a farmer, like Dad. When I went to university, I studied biology in addition to the subjects that were my passions. I did it for her. Because she never got the chance.”
Brodin tugged Poppy closer. God, he made her feel so safe. His hand slid down her arm, and touched her injured hand.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
His brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She slipped her hand behind her back. “It’s fine.”
“What’s wrong with your hand, Poppy?” He moved fast, using his shapeshifter speed. He grabbed her wrist and she gasped.
They both stared at her broken, swollen finger.
He snarled. “What the gorr happened?”
“Well, I—”
“Fillian.” Realization dawned on Brodin’s face. “When Fillian held your hand, he broke your finger. You need a healer.”
“No. The healers are busy with Fillian. It doesn’t hurt too bad now.”
“We at least need to move the bone into the right place and bandage it.”
“I—”
He shifted the bone. Pain flared and she let out a sharp cry. Nausea swirled.
Brodin shifted closer. “I’m sorry.”
She panted, then leaned her face against his chest. “Just give me a second.”
He took a cloth from his pocket and wrapped her finger. “You’ll heal faster, now that you’re Damari. It should be better tomorrow.”
She looked up at him. “Thank you.”
He stilled, his gaze dropping to her lips. Then he shook himself and looked away. His gaze snagged on the table. “What’s this?”
He rose and wandered over to the repaired music player, and the mechanica from the market.
“Oh, I played around a bit.” She rose. “I hope you don’t mind, but that music player was already broken…”
“I know. I broke it when I threw it at the wall. I was mad.”
She tilted her head. “Do you often throw things when you’re mad?”
He paused. “Yes.”
“Well, it’s fixed now.”
He touched the button on it and music played. The deep beat accompanied by beautiful strings filled the room.