Every morning she put on that bright smile and cheery manner, showing the world the person she wanted to be—confident and strong, not weak and wavering.
Soon, she started to cry, making her feel even worse than before. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t swallow and her eyes felt as if they were full of sand. She wasn’t sure how long she could last like this. Her fear only grew as she realized she could die here, and no one would know.
Mother would blame the Preor! she thought desperately. She would be believed, too! No one would ever know what happened to me!
Her heart thumped in irregular beats, frightening her even further. She knew now that even if she wanted to rise, she couldn’t.
When the front door squeaked, a rush of hope suffused her. It didn’t matter who was entering the apartment, even if it was her mother. They had to help. Even her own mother wouldn’t just let her die.
“Sasha!” her mother snapped as she strode into the room. “Are you still unwell? Great!” She came around in front of Sash and snapped a few photos. “I was hoping you were still sick. It’s great for the press. You look even worse than before. I can work with that.”
Jenna bent over to peer at Sasha’s face but kept her distance. Sasha looked up dully and wondered if she was actually going to have to beg her mother for help. When her throat gurgled, her mother backed up a few steps.
“Don’t vomit anywhere near me,” Jenna warned. “This is Chanel. I bought it especially for today. Besides, you know I’m a sympathetic vomiter. Have some sympathy for fuck’s sake.”
“Mother?” Sasha could barely speak.
“Yes, princess?” Her mother didn’t even spare her a glance, too enamored with her phone.
“I think I’m dying.”
Jenna looked up in disbelief, eyes wide, and let out a little laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sasha. You’re ill but you’ll get better.”
“No mother, I’m going to die without my mate. I need Whelon.” She was so weak, the effort of speaking a full sentence made her sweat and shake.
“Sasha!” her mother snarled. “This is bullshit. It’s just a hallucination. I know you think it feels real, but—”
“Mother,” Sasha croaked. “Please help me.”
“All right, I’ll go get a doctor. Then he can tell you that you’re not dying and we can put a stop to this… this nonsense.”
Minutes went by and Sasha wondered if she truly had been abandoned for real this time. Maybe her mother wouldn’t bother to return. She clearly didn’t care what happened to Sasha.
After some time, she became aware that she was being touched very gently and she opened her eyes in a panic, wondering her put their hands on her.
She met an old, kindly face. “Easy there, girl. I’m a doctor.” She tried to respond, but he shook his head. “Don’t talk, dear. Just let me finish.”
He looked her over, taking her vitals, his experienced hands comforting her while he took his readings.
Sasha’s mother stood nearby, tapping her foot. The moment the doctor stepped back, her mother spoke. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s nothing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted. “I’ve given her a couple of shots that would bring an elephant out of a coma, but they’ve had no effect. You say this happened after contact with the Preor?”
“Yes.” Her mother nodded. “It’s some kind of coercion,” she replied cattily.
“Then I strongly suggest you find a Preor healer. They will be able to do far more than me.”
“Not going to happen,” Jenna decreed flatly. “Their magic got us to this point. All they can do is make it worse. I’m not giving them another chance to hurt my daughter.”
The doctor waited patiently for Jenna to finish, packing up his instruments as she spoke. He patted Sasha’s hair and turned back to Jenna. “Miss Dane, in the short time I have been here, your daughter’s vitals have continued to fail. They are on a steady decline. Her heart and lungs will soon begin to slow. Her circulation is poor and her internal organs are suffering. She has no reflexes. I’m not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. Sasha will die in a matter of hours if we can’t find what’s causing her illness.”
“What the fuck did I call you for?” Jenna screamed. “You were supposed to fix her! What is wrong with you, you undereducated quack! Get out!”
“Miss Dane—”
“Get the fuck out!”
The doctor looked down on Sasha, regret visible in his eyes. He tried one last time. “Would you consider moving her to a hospital?”
Jenna went to protest but then stopped. She stared at Sasha with narrowed eyes and she could almost see the wheels turning as her mother imagined the media circus that would occur if they wheeled Sasha out of the apartment building on a stretcher.
“I might,” she murmured thoughtfully, “but not right now.”
The doctor left. If Sasha had the strength, she would have clung to him and not allowed him to leave without her. When her mother arranged a few pillows behind her, she fell into the same trap again, believing her mother tried to comfort her.
“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered.
“Sweet, just lie back. That’s it. Wow, you’re so pale. Around your eyes you look kind of yellow. Fuck!” Jenna suddenly exclaimed.
“What?” Sasha rasped.
“The light is overexposing the image. It’s blanking out the jaundice. You look almost health for fuck’s sakes. Hey, can you do that barfy look again? I’m on the other side of the table so you won’t hit my suit if you throw up.”
Sasha blinked, feeling as if her body was very far away. The last few comments her mother made didn’t make sense and that was a blessing.
Sasha faded, the blessed darkness the only comfort left to her, and she embraced it with open arms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Whelon sensed Sasha slipping away. He knew the moment she went beyond even dream consciousness into a far deeper darkness. His heart seemed to fail in that moment. Even if he could get to her now, could he save her?
Would that the heat of my fire could restore your life, he thought sadly. If my death could give you back your life, I would take my final flight right now.
There was a certain lure in taking the final flight, flying as far out of the atmosphere as possible and letting the vacuum of space draw him out, toward the great star. The spirals of far off galaxies would look like the light that slowly died in Sasha’s eyes.
“Whelon!” Penelope snapped. He barely even blinked.
“Get him up!” she shrieked. Even from his far away reverie, he knew that if she had any physical component that could move, she would have kicked him square in the ass.
Suddenly he was yanked upright by a great force. His wings flapped as he opened his eyes, fully believing Penelope had built a huge claw for herself so she could physically shake him.
When his feet hit the floor and the arm on his neck went away, he stared up into Vende’s stern gaze.
“Are you giving up?” the engineering master hissed. “Your mate is dying and you sit here napping like a dragonlet? Is your dragon born of fear and hobbling on weak bones?”