Lexi gulped before she lifted her head to meet his twinkling, blue eyes. She didn’t know what to say or how to react, so she remained silent as Cole spoke with his people.
He stopped to rest his hand on some of their shoulders. Others, he commanded to rise and spoke with them as he tried to learn more about what was needed to help the injured heal faster.
He promised to get them the supplies they required and ordered Niall to find someone who would go to the market in the human realm to purchase healing potions from the witches.
“We will start rebuilding at once,” he promised a dark fae who had nowhere for his wife and children to live. “Until then, we have empty homes here in the bailey that you, and anyone else who needs them, can reside in.”
The man bowed his head and stepped away. He was replaced by more who demanded Cole’s time or simply sought to assure themselves he was alive.
Throughout it all, he remained strong and radiated an aura of confidence even as she felt his strength dwindling. He did nothing to reflect that growing weakness to them.
She didn’t think he was aware of it, but his fingers dug into her arm as they made their way through the last of the survivors. Most of them were on one knee as they approached, and all had their heads bowed.
When Lexi looked behind them, she saw the reverence on the faces of those who watched them after they passed. Finally, they finished greeting everyone and started toward the palace. Cole still maintained an air of strength, but sweat beaded his forehead, and his fingers had become painful against her flesh.
“I’d like to return to the palace,” she blurted. “I’m tired, and I’d like to rest.”
She was perfectly fine, but she wanted him back in bed.
“Of course,” Cole murmured. He turned to Niall. “Please accompany us inside.”
“Yes, mil—Cole.”
They strolled back to the palace, climbed the stairs, and returned inside. Lexi clenched her jaw and glanced nervously around. If anyone saw him getting weaker, they might think it was a good time to attack.
She still had the short sword on her, but it might not be enough to destroy an attacker. Niall’s eyes moved more constantly than hers; he would help keep Cole safe too.
Cole revealed no signs of weakness until they were back into the room and the door closed. Once Niall clicked the locks into place, he sank onto the chair she’d vacated earlier and, gripping the ends, took a deep breath.
Lexi knelt before him and started tugging at his tunic so she could examine his wounds. He tried to stop her, but she slapped his hands away.
“Don’t,” she commanded, and he relented to her.
She realized too late why he’d chosen the dark red cloak. The color hid the blood that had soaked through his tunic and into the cloak.
“You stupid, stubborn, foolish man,” she muttered as his blood coated her fingers.
“I’m fine, love,” he assured her as he clasped her hand. “It’s only a little blood.”
She pulled her hand away to scowl at him.
The annoying ass smiled in return. “It will be fine.”
She didn’t reply as she helped him remove his tunic and tossed it aside. She unwrapped the blood-soaked bandages to reveal the wounds beneath. Thankfully, the puncture through his lungs still looked good and hadn’t bled, but he’d irritated the wounds in his chest and back.
“It’s healing well,” Niall remarked. When Lexi turned her glower on him, he hastily added. “But you need more rest.”
“I know,” Cole said. “But going out there today will buy me some time.”
“And a lot of admiration,” Niall agreed. Then he glanced pointedly at Lexi. “For both of you.”
“Great. He reopened his injuries for admiration,” she muttered.
“No,” Cole said. “I did it to secure my throne and keep them in line. My father was a good, powerful leader, but they’ve never been led by a king as powerful as me, and now they all know it.”
Those words must have cost him dearly to utter, as his father was his hero, but they were true. King Tove did a lot of good for this realm, and he was a powerful man; Cole was stronger.
Niall and Cole exchanged a smile that set Lexi’s teeth on edge. Rising, she returned to Cole’s bedroom and gathered the pitcher and some fresh towels to clean him again. She filled the pitcher with warm water and returned to find them talking about their strategy for the rebels.
“You’re in no condition to go after them,” Lexi said.
“Not yet,” Cole replied. “But more than ten men will be required to hunt them. Unfortunately, with the injured and the fact we have to start rebuilding the homes here immediately, we cannot afford to send any more of the king’s guard after them. They’re needed here.”
“So are you.”
“They’ll expect me to hunt down my enemies.”
Lexi bit her tongue; he was right, but she still didn’t like it. She knelt before him and gently started to clean the injury on his chest again.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”
With tender fingers, he brushed back a strand of her hair that had fallen free of its knot. He tucked it behind her ear, and Lexi melted a little beneath his touch.
Then she recalled she was annoyed with the stubborn ass and went back to scowling at him. He had the nerve to chuckle.
“If you weren’t already hurt, I’d stab you myself,” she told him.
Those words only caused him and Niall to laugh harder. Then Cole winced when it irritated his wounds, and his laughter faded.
“Serves you right, jackass,” she muttered, and he laughed again but not as loudly.
“She will make a fine queen, milord,” Niall said.
And she realized she’d earned more than the respect of the dark fae in the courtyard; she’d also earned his.
“That she will,” Cole agreed as he caressed her cheek.
She desperately wanted to melt into his touch, but he was still bleeding, and she couldn’t do it.
“You should rest,” she said.
He cupped her cheek before focusing on Niall again. They continued to discuss their next move as she cleaned the blood from him and started to wrap a bandage around his chest and back again. She didn’t bother to dress the wound in his side; it didn’t need the attention.
As she worked, she tried not to let her apprehension show. She’d known being in a relationship with this stubborn, powerful man would be difficult, but she hadn’t realized how difficult.
She tried to keep her hands from trembling as she cleaned wounds. These were going to be the first of the many injuries she’d clean of his in her lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brokk studied the beautiful woman who stood on the other side of the lodge as Sahira settled onto the ground and crossed her legs. Kaylia emanated disgust and hatred as she scanned them. Brokk considered giving her the finger.
Sahira looked at him and patted the space beside her. Brokk almost asked her if she was nuts. He’d rather play chicken with a dragon than sit cross-legged in this lodge with a witch who would gladly skewer them.
“Sit,” Kaylia commanded.
Brokk bristled over the tone and the words, but the apprehension on Sahira’s face silenced his response. Reluctantly, Brokk settled beside Sahira on the thick, fur rug. He remained on his knees with his toes tucked into the rug so he could jump up quickly if necessary.