Mischka sipped gratefully, wetting her parched throat with the chilled liquid. After she had her fill, she gave the cup back. “I remember being attacked by Gordo. He was crazed.”
Fury darkened Bane’s gaze. “He was able to whittle a weapon from a serving utensil during one of his meals and hid it. Before the guards could board him on the prison transport he attacked you, stabbing you nineteen times.”
Mischka gasped, her free hand going to her covered midsection. “What?!”
Dr. Maku discretely left.
“You almost died.”
Mischka’s head fell back on the pillow as she tried to absorb all of it. “But I didn’t.”
Bane shook his head, eyes filled with things she couldn’t decipher. “Touch and go the first day. Two rushed trips to surgery to stop internal bleeding during the second night, one scheduled surgery to perform major repairs once you were stable. But you didn’t die.”
Sleep prodded due to the pain medication but Mischka resisted. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“No.” Bane eased a hip to sit on the side of the bed next to her thighs.
She took note of the fitted black buttoned shirt he wore with its high collar and the black pants straining over his thighs. There were no emblems anywhere on either garment but she didn’t need those to realize he was in uniform. “What happens next?”
“You rest. Recover.”
Mischka pursed her lips and jerked her arm. The threads about their wrists held firm. “Bane!”
“Mischka.” He mocked and arched a brow at her glare but slid his finger beneath the loop and shredded it. “I wanted you to know I was here while you slept.”
She refused to fall beneath his charm. Lothar could be planning his next strike this very moment. She struggled and pushed up on her elbows. Dizziness struck and bile filled her mouth. Frantic, she twisted about, looking for somewhere to spit.
“Careful.” Bane wrapped an arm about her shoulders and helped her up.
“Sick,” she muttered right before a plastic bin was shoved on her lap.
After she cleared the upset from her stomach, Bane set the bowl to the side and rubbed her arm. He handed her the nutrient drink again and she took a few sips. “Are you better? Should I get Dr. Maku back to check on you?”
No medic. She needed to leave. “You shouldn’t be with me. Where are the guards? Don’t they need to take me away?”
He leaned down and tipped her face up at the same time with a finger to her chin. “What were you going to tell me that morning, Mischka?”
She swallowed and slanted her gaze to the side, unable to meet his eyes as she contemplated telling one tiny lie. Bane beat her to a response and warned. “Do not lie, gariad.”
Mischka gasped at the tender name he’d used for her during their one night together. “You have to let me go. You have to—”
Bane placed a hand gently over her mouth, shutting down her pleas. “Do you care about me, Mischka? Truth only. No lies, nothing but honesty right now, right here.”
It was too risky to say what he wanted. She allowed her weight to settle on Bane’s arm behind her.
“Mischka? I want to understand. I’m prepared to listen to whatever you want to say.”
Why was he being so sweet to her? She was a criminal, the enemy in his eyes. There was no need to pretend she still had his regard.
Bane pressed his forehead to hers. “If it helps, I already know you do.”
She froze and pushed at his broad chest. The action pulled at her tender wounds and her hand went to her torso on a pained cry. Shifting immediately, Bane adjusted to sit fully on the bed with his legs stretched out and cradled her on his lap. “Stop before you hurt yourself. Most of your injuries were healed but you still need to take your time. Regain your strength.”
“Let me go. Send me away to the prison colony.” She needed to be far away from him so Lothar never discovered their connection.
“My Unit Leader Torkel Alonson has received approval for a temporary stay of your trial.” His hand slid up her thigh and the short medic gown patients wore. He smoothed his hand back and forth in a soothing motion. “You’re not leaving until you get better.”
Realizing he had no intention of letting her move from his lap, Mischka slumped. Her lids fluttered as she was struck by an immense wave of exhaustion. Her voice was slightly slurred as she spoke. “You don’t understand what you’re doing. This is a big mistake.”
He rubbed his jaw over the top of her head and Mischka wanted to curl about him. Giving in a little, she wrapped her arms around his waist and let her head settle on his chest. “I should have remembered how stubborn you were on CV-8.”
Bane hummed under his breath and didn’t reply to her comment about his stubbornness. Instead, he told her his plans so there’d be no mistake. “During the temporary order, I’m going to dig into your background and find a way to prove your innocence.”
Shocked to her core, she stuttered, “But I’m not. I’m not innocent. I did everything your teammate found and more.”
Bane nudged her face up, anger blasting from his gaze. “Only because of Lothar’s commands and threats.”
Chills pebbled the skin on her arm. She didn’t want him anywhere near Lothar. “He’s very dangerous, Bane. You don’t want to be on his radar directly.”
A yawn followed her warning and she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Bane stood up with her in his arms and turned to lay her back in the bed. He pulled the covers up to her waist. “Rest. I’ll be back later.”
She grabbed his wrist before he could move away. Protecting him was the one decision she’d ever made on her own. “What for? Just send me away, Bane.”
He kissed her brow, her nose, then lingered at her mouth to whisper, “I’m going to learn everything about you, gariad. The real you and then we’re going to start all over and see if what we had is worth pursuing.”
Her breath hitched and Mischka ignored the twinge of pain it caused in her lower belly. The intensity with which Bane spoke left her in no doubt to his seriousness.
“Why?” she cried out. “Why are you doing this?”
He straightened. “I almost lost you. I’m not letting anything else come between us.”
“You’re putting yourself at risk. And for what? A Marenian who betrayed you.”
A frown pierced his blond brows setting off a sliver of worry in her. She picked at the edges of the sheet at her waist to avoid his penetrating gaze. Bane sighed and trailed a finger down her arm until he reached her hand. He squeezed once before letting go. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone who sees your soul? I think you see mine, Mischka and I’m angry you’ve hidden yours from me.”
Surprised, she looked up. Her chest grew tight and her breath stuttered. “I don’t see your soul. That’s not a thing.”
His smile was somber. “You attempted a Ceraton death chant.”
She had no idea what he meant and was afraid to find out yet was compelled by the stark look in his gaze. “What...what is that?”
Bane tugged on a loose section of hair hanging over her shoulder, the smile falling, his expression grave. “It’s a telepathic bond formed between Ceratons and those they care for. It allows one or the other to call for their loved one in the final moments before their death to be held one last time.”