Chapter 30: The Umbra King: Chapter 28

eyes flew open and her pillow moved up and down beneath her.

She tried to sit up and groaned. Did a bear shifter step on her?

Everything came rushing back. The stairs. The shove. The pain. The voice asking her to hold on.

“Rory?” a deep voice said, vibrating her back.

She tilted her head enough to see golden eyes watching her. Caius’ face was screwed up with worry, and when she whispered his name, it fell with relief.

“Where am I?” she croaked, looking around the best she could.

“Your room,” he replied coarsely. “Do you remember what happened?”

She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. “I need water.”

“Guard!” Caius barked, making Rory groan and grab her head. “Sorry,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of her hair, almost making her choke, despite having no spit to choke on.

A member of the legion stepped through her doorway, which no longer had a door. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Bring water and fetch the doctor,” he ordered, before lowering his voice. “Rory, I know you’re hurting, but I need you to tell me what happened.”

She closed her eyes, immediately reliving the fall. Her eyes flew open and sweat beaded her brow. “Someone pushed me down the stairs.”

Caius’ entire body went taut. “Who?”

The guard returned with two glasses, a pitcher of water, and the doctor. He poured Rory a glass, and she drank it in one gulp.

“I’m glad to see you awake, Miss Raven,” the doctor said. “I need to examine you, if that’s okay?”

She nodded, pushed herself up, and immediately wished she were dead. Everything hurt. How was she supposed to beat the shit out of whoever did this to her if she couldn’t move?

After being poked and prodded, the doctor deemed her healthy, told her to take the potions Caius gave her, and left. “How many credits do we get at the pharmacy?” Rory asked. She hoped a lot.

When he didn’t answer, she turned herself around on the bed to look at him. He only stared. “You will have whatever you want. Credit limits no longer apply to you.”

Her mouth fell open. “Did you push me, and this is some type of penance?”

She was only half-joking.

“Did you see who did this to you?” he asked in lieu of a response.

She shook her head as much as she could. “I was in a hurry to arrange the food for Asher’s party and the ball.” She stopped. “Can you give approval for Bellina to finish the arrangements for Asher’s party tomorrow? I’m not sure I can walk down the hall, let alone take the stairs.”

Caius continued to stare at her incredulously. “You think so little of me that I would deny you anything right now? You almost died, Rory. I watched you slip away in my arms. You could order Sam to make arrangements if you wanted, and I wouldn’t care.”

Her stomach flip-flopped at his words. “You made me clean your office.”

“I will destroy it again so you can watch me clean it, but first, I need to know if you saw who pushed you.” His hand lifted as if to touch her before he thought better of it.

“I didn’t see who it was,” she admitted. “I was in too much pain to look up.”

His nostrils flared slightly. “I’m moving you into Atarah’s room.”

She gaped at him again. “Why?”

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “Someone tried to kill you. Again.” It wasn’t an answer, but it was all he gave.

“You will enter and exit through my office. There’s a hidden hallway,” he continued. “You are not to wander the halls alone—“

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she said, cutting him off.

His brows rose. “Actually, I can.”

“You sound like Dume,” she muttered under her breath.

“Rory!” Bellina screamed frantically from the doorway, with Max and Asher on her heels.

Bellina tried to throw her arms around Rory’s shoulders, but a wall of shadows stopped her. She started swatting them away. “Rory’s sore,” Caius warned. “Don’t touch her.” When he said the last line, his eyes were on Asher.

“Aether,” was all Asher said as he looked Rory up and down. “Someone pushed you?”

She nodded weakly. “Bellina, can you speak to the kitchen about food for tomorrow night?”

Asher looked offended. “Are you kidding? Fuck my party, Rory.” He turned to Bellina. “Cancel everything.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Rory protested. “I can sit on a couch in the room we’re using. They’re fancy.”

Caius’ face darkened. “You need to rest.”

“Yeah,” Asher chimed in. “Can you even walk?”

Rory opened her mouth to defend herself but stopped. Could she? “That’s what I thought,” he said, sounding like the fifty-one-year-old he was.

“Shut up, Ash,” Bellina snapped playfully.

Max stood quietly by the door. “Can’t say hi?” Rory teased.

Chuckling, he said, “I figured those two were talking enough for all of us.” He crossed the cramped room and lightly touched Rory’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo.”

Bellina’s eyes ticked from Rory to Caius with an unspoken question, and Rory turned to the king. “Would you mind giving us some privacy?”

“Yes, I would,” he replied immediately. “Someone tried to kill you today. I’m not letting you out of my sight until we find out who.”

“I’ll give you three guesses,” Asher bit out. “We all know Nina was involved.”

Bellina smacked his arm. “You don’t know that.” She turned back to Caius. “But it’s probably true.”

“Nina was at her apartment all afternoon,” Sam said, making them all jump. His head looked around the corner of the doorway. “I checked.” He disappeared again.

Rory gulped. She knew people hated her, but enough to kill her? She’d hoped it ended with Ronny. “The list of people who hate me should start a club,” she joked. “They can get members’ jackets, so they’re easily identified.”

Max shook his head. “This is no laughing matter. They will try again.”

Rory straightened. It was unlike Max to scold anyone, and it made her nerves fray.

“Okay,” she conceded. “But can we still have Asher’s party?”

She glanced at Caius. “I won’t leave their sides.”

He looked at Asher. “You won’t leave mine either.” He slid off the bed and motioned toward the broken door. “Rory needs to rest. I’ll escort her to the party tomorrow, and you can see her then.”

The three bid Rory goodbye and left, and Sam, who Rory forgot was in the hall, stepped through the door, grabbed all of her things piled on the floor, and exited.

“Who packed my things?”

Caius bent over and scooped her up. “Lauren and Bellina.”

“Put me down,” she demanded. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

He maneuvered her through the door and said, “To your new room.”

Caius knew he was being irrational, just like he knew his actions were in direct contrast with his prior declaration, but she wouldn’t die on his watch.

Once she settled into her new room and he arranged protection for her, he would keep her at a distance. His erratic behavior over her fall was proof she was changing his priorities.

That couldn’t happen.

She stopped fighting him about halfway down the hall, presumably too sore to put up much of a fight, and when he arrived in his office, the bookcase was already moved aside thanks to Sam.

He moved through the hallway on muscle memory as he stole glances at the woman in his arms. Even with her face swollen and bruised, she was beautiful.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she grumbled. “I know I look like death warmed over.”

His laugh shook them both. “Tell people you went a few rounds with Lauren. You wouldn’t be the first person she put in the hospital.”

Rory snorted and winced. “Everything hurts.”

Sam held up a woman’s skirt out in front of him. “Where does this go?”

“You don’t have to unpack my things.” Rory wiggled in Caius’ arms again. “I can do it myself.”

Sam shrugged, folded the skirt, and stuck it in a drawer before grabbing another article of clothing.

She puffed out a gust of air. “You two are impossible.”

Caius set her on the bed, and when her head hit the pillow, her body melted against the sheets.

Satisfied, Caius addressed Sam, “Have a contractor from town seal off the staircase to this room.”

“What?” Rory half-shouted. “How will my friends visit?”

“They won’t,” Sam and Caius said at the same time.

“Then take me back to my room.”

“You can visit Bellina in her room when you are better,” Caius assured her. “Asher is leaving the day after tomorrow, and Max is leaving the week after that.”

Rory’s shoulders slumped against the mattress. “Does it always feel like this?” she asked them. “Knowing your friends won’t remember you?”

Caius ran a hand through his hair, and bits of crusted blood fell out. He needed a shower, which reminded him that Rory did, too. Looking at her blood matted hair made him grimace at the soiled sheets.

He pushed his hands under her body and lifted her once more.

“Hey!” she shrieked. “What are you doing?” She looked at Sam. “What is wrong with him?”

“You need a bath,” Caius replied. “You have blood in your hair.”

Sam pointed at her. “Under your fingernails too.” He put away the garment in his hand and walked into the closet, returning with fresh sheets. “I will meet you in your office after I change the bed,” he said to Caius.

“You are not bathing me,” Rory growled at the king. “I don’t even want you touching me.”

“I will dunk you in the bath fully clothed if that’s what you wish, but you bathing,“ he informed her.

The clothes she wore were covered in blood and torn in places where the doctor had to examine her and add potions. Caius set her on the side of the tub and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature.

“Clothes on or off?” he asked her.

“Off, but my bra and panties stay on.” She stood on shaky legs, and Caius unzipped her skirt to work it down her hips. Normally this would turn him on, but all he could focus on was not hurting her, and the bruises that tainted her skin made him murderous.

Once undressed, he lowered her into the warm water, grabbed a washcloth, and squirted soap onto the soft fabric.

When he tried to clean her arm, she pulled back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He blinked and looked at the cloth in his hands. “This is called bathing.”

She plucked the cloth from his hands and shooed him away. “I don’t need you to wash me. I’ll call you when I’m ready to get out.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. “This is not a discussion.”

Amused and a little disappointed she wouldn’t accept his help, he walked back to the bedroom, but left the bathroom door open.

He could hear the water splashing and little grunts through the open door, and he forced himself to stay put.

“I need your help,” Rory said reluctantly after a few minutes.

He stood by the bathtub within seconds. “What can I do?”

She motioned to her hair. “Can you wash my hair?”

He nodded, wanting nothing more. After she was better, he would distance himself. If that’s what he told himself over and over, eventually, he would believe it.

“Sit up,” he instructed, before stepping into his room for a pitcher. When he returned, he filled it with bathwater, but she grabbed his wrist.

“The water is disgusting. Let me drain it, and you can use fresh water from the faucet.”

When the plug was pulled, he waited for the fresh water to warm up before filling the pitcher again. “Lean your head back.” Slowly, he poured water over her hair, refilling the pitcher when necessary until the strands were saturated.

He lathered the shampoo in his hands before rubbing it into her hair. After covering her head from root to tip, he massaged her scalp and relished in the soft moans she made. After shampooing twice, he added conditioner and did more of the same.

Seeing her shoulders relax at his touch had his blood heating, and if he didn’t leave soon, he would ask to feast between her legs.

He helped her from the bathtub, handed her a towel and shift, and stepped from the room. When she emerged, she walked faster than before, the hot water having eased some of her aches.

“A guard will be stationed at every entrance to this room, and you are not to leave until someone trustworthy comes to fetch you.”

She glared at him again but gave no argument. He helped her into bed, turned out the lights, and slipped behind the bookcase to his office.

As he walked down the long hallway, he reminded himself that he couldn’t let himself fall into her.