But there was no sign of him.
“I’m not hurt, just tired, Mom.” Exhausted—body and soul. Hadyn protested weakly, but otherwise let Qara do what she had to, to assure herself.
“Deep—” She had to suck in and keep more tears at bay. And she was being a total coward, not asking what she wanted to. Because Rune wasn’t here.
Impossible not to miss Chaghan’s exchanged glance with Finn. The blue dragon shifter dropped to his haunches in front of her, gaze steady. “Deep and Rune were caught together under the rockslide.”
Only once before in her entire life had time slowed and frozen. As though in her fear and pain, she’d managed to halt the entire world with her, trying to stop it, maybe even turn back the clock.
No. Her heart turned over in her chest, as though trying to hide. Because if he was gone… She closed her eyes. Gods, please don’t let him be gone.
She was his…his. And he didn’t know. Because she hadn’t told him. She’d thought there would be time.
“Is he dead?” she whispered, the words not entirely making it out of her throat.
Finn’s expression was grim. “No.”
The relief was so sharp her head swam with it. “Where is he?”
Another glance at Chaghan, who gave an imperceptible nod that she caught out of the corner of her eyes. The next words were softer, more careful. “He’s in bad shape. The rocks crushed his legs.”
Urgency had her struggling, wanting to get up. “I need to see him.”
“I don’t think—”
Hadyn shot Finn a glare that would’ve lit him on fire if she’d been a dragon. “I’m not asking.”
Her parents managed to help her to her feet, which were less than steady.
“You need to eat,” Qara said.
Why did people keep trying to feed her? “Bring it to wherever he is.”
Everything inside her was breaking. She should have grabbed onto him with both hands and figured the rest out later. Including her parents. The second she’d given him her body, she should have given him the rest of her, too, because she’d known—deep down, she’d known.
She took one step away, then paused, glancing at Calla’s ashes, then at Finn. “You’ll…take care of her?” she asked softly.
He nodded.
“She and Deep should be together,” she said, still gentle with him. Because she had the sudden impression that Finn Conleth might shatter, too. These were his close friends, but men in grief could do stupid things. She’d witnessed that firsthand.
“I’ll make sure they are.”
Supported by Chaghan’s arm around her waist, she let them lead her past the devastation of the rubble. As they passed inside the dragon-sized tunnel, she glanced over her shoulder one last time to find Finn still outside on his knees beside Calla’s ashes, head bent, shoulders shaking.
Just inside, Delaney stood in the shadows, silently watching her mate. She didn’t even glance away when they passed her. Hadyn swallowed down another wave of grief and pressed on.
From what she could tell, the force of the landslide had collapsed the tunnel only part of the way down the interior. No wonder Rune and Deep hadn’t been able to get out from under it.
Her parents took her not to the residence but to rooms beneath it. An infirmary, she realized as they entered a sterile room—all chrome beds, white sheets, and glassed-in cabinets with the strong smells of antiseptic and blood filling her nostrils.
Hall was with Rune, who lay in a single bed at the far end. He could never appear small, he was too big a man for that, but he did appear…reduced…to her eyes. His legs were both casted and held aloft in some kind of traction setup, and an IV of fluids dripped into one arm. X-rays were lit up from behind on a computer screen, and she jerked her gaze away from the evidence that both legs were in pieces only held together by the surrounding flesh.
“Will he heal?” she asked Hall.
The green dragon shifter glanced away, and she knew, instantly, that he had no idea. More than that, he was worried, the emotion drawing his face. Big strong dragons didn’t speak of such things, but she’d learned watching Chaghan that, often, the deeper the emotion, the more uncommunicative he got.
“I see,” she said around a lump in her throat.
Rune was going to hate that. The man was so powerful, so vital. Crippling injuries would hit him harder than most.
She grabbed a simple metal chair and dragged it over to his bed, the sound making the dragons in the room wince. All except Rune, who didn’t so much as twitch. Careful not to jiggle him at all, she sat and took one of his hands in hers, grateful to feel it still warm against her skin. Although, Calla’s had been warm, too, after she died. Right up until she turned to ash.
Don’t think that way.
“Can I be alone with him?”
A second of silence, probably her parents and Hall communicating mutely with each other.
“Hit that button if he takes a turn for the worse,” Hall said, pointing at a red button built into the wall.
She nodded.
“I’ll be back with food for you, honey,” Qara said. “And maybe new clothes.”
“She never could go outside without ruining her clothes,” Chaghan lamented softly as they filed out of the room. The old complaint was enough to make her smile, though briefly.
Hadyn waited several minutes, watching Rune’s face and keeping a close eye on the monitors showing his heart rate and blood pressure. What she had to say to him was for his ears alone.
She licked dry, dust-covered lips, then ran the back of her sleeve across them, before settling into Rune. “Listen up, hot stuff. You are not allowed to give up. Do you hear me?”
She used her best bossy bitch voice, hoping he’d sit up and argue with her.
No response, not that she’d expected one.
“How about this? You wake up, I’ll do a strip tease, right here and now.”
Not even a blip.
She sobered. “Actually,” she said. “I had a lot of time to think while I was sitting with Calla…after…” She swallowed.
“I told her all about Kip. The thing is, I was told as a child that Kip was my mate, and I accepted it because he was my friend. He would make funny faces and make me laugh and carry me on his shoulders until I got too big. I was afraid of fireworks, and he’d hold his hands over my ears on the Fourth of July, and tell me ghost stories, and play tag with me in the yard. He taught me how to dig a tunnel in the sand and how to build a shelter in the forest. He was part of my life and I loved him.”