19
Azrail glanced sidelong at Maia, hiding his worry behind a smirk when she muttered, "I don't see why we couldn't have found an innhereinstead of the pretty hellscape we just left."
She was paler than earlier, with sweat beading on her forehead and a film over her eyes. She was definitely suffering from iron poisoning, but none of them knew what the chasm the cut on her ribs was doing to her. They'd never seen anything like those golden fae before. If Nesslyn hadn't said the beasts who sacked Ilysen had scales and claws, he'd have been sure it was those golden bastards who'd devoured the village.
"At least this place has character," Maia huffed, gesturing at the damp, smelly street they walked down, following the confused directions Arloe had given them when Az asked for help.
"And rats," Jaro quipped, cringing as a little furry thing scuttled down the street. Az wasn't entirely sure theywererats, but that would make Jaro feel worse so he kept his mouth shut. Strange things happened to small animals when magic was used by a lot of people in a small area. Mutations weren't rare.
"Free pets!" Maia said with a gasp, her wings twitching in genuine excitement.
Azrail caught her wrist before she could scoop up one of them. "You don't know where they've been, Mai. That rat could have come from the sewers."
And could infect her cut.
Maia wrinkled her nose and sighed a curse, accepting the point. She tugged her wrist from his grip and surprised him by linking their hands together instead.
Az swallowed, warmth moving through his chest—and his face.
"How far is it down this road?" Kheir asked, walking like Jaro—as if eggshells lined the road instead of wobbly cobblestones, and those eggshells were diseased and spewing pus.
"Ten minutes Arloe said," Az replied, sweeping a vigilant stare over the street.
There was no reputable healer open at this time of night, but in this dingy, shady part of the city one man operated in the dark hours rather than daytime. The healer catered for the abject opposite of the well-kept, respectable citizens they'd passed earlier, and Az didn't trust any of these people around his vulnerable mate. His instincts were on high alert, his body thrumming with readiness for a fight.
"Ooh, a pub!" Maia breathed, her gold eyes sparking with delight.
"No," Ark shut down instantly, and Azrail was secretly glad someone else was bursting her bubble for once. He hated to be the responsible one; he always felt like a bad guy.
"A drink would make me feel better," Maia replied sweetly. "Pleeeease?"
"No."
Ark was a stronger man than Azrail; he'd have struggled to hold out against that coaxing tone.
"Look at it this way, sweetheart," Az said, scanning the street for a sign that read HERON HEALERS. "If the healer gives you a tonic, it'll probably be full of alcohol."
"And a swamp," Maia replied dryly. "Everything that's good for you tastes like kelp."
"Kelp's really nutritious," Jaro piped up, giving her a smile but not quite managing to hide his panic over her health. And the fact she was still bleeding beneath the bandage wrapped around her middle. "I used to eat it a lot when I first started working and needed to lose weight."
Azrail's heart became as heavy as lead. Rage coiled in his stomach, old and familiar. It was always Jaro’s everyday tone that made it harsher, like being forced to diet was as normal as making dinner.
Az watched Maia's eyes go soft and wide, and wasn't jealous when she released his hand to rush to Jaro. She reached up to hold his pale, freckled face, her eyes tightening with pain as she pulled on her injury.
"Careful," Azrail warned, and realised he and Kheir had spoken at once. The prince smirked at him, a rare moment of camaraderie Azrail didn't expect to last.
They paused in the middle of the street to give Maia and Jaro a moment.
"You know we all love you, right?" Maia said to Jaro, who had frozen in surprise, not sure why he was the centre of attention. "Exactly as you choose to be, no matter what."
"Maia," he murmured, sad enough that Azrail crossed his arms over his chest to cover up his worry and upset. "It’s fine. That was a long time ago, and it was good for me."
Maia gave him a stern look, her wings fluttering. "I don't want you to think you have to look a certain way, because that's what people have told you. You're a fucking beautiful person, and that comes from inside—from the things you say, and do, and feel—as much as it comes from your looks. You're so damn precious to me, to all of us, and I don't want you to think you'd be worth less if your appearance changed."
Jaro glanced over the top of her head, swallowing.
"You'll always be my pretty kitty," she added with a smile, and Jaro laughed.
"I know," he replied hoarsely, and kissed her hair. "And you'll always be my love."
Azrail saw his own thoughts reflected on Ark's golden face; that they were intruding in on a highly personal, intimate moment.
"Oh," Jaro said, his tone different, still looking over Maia’s head. "I found the healer."
Azrail let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing. Thank fuck; they could get Maia the help she needed and ease her pain. He could barely handle her winces, nor the sharp hiss she made when she brushed against the cut, and especially not her tough expression as she fought through the pain.
"Let's go," Az said, jerking his chin to round them all up. He just hoped this healer had better luck with Maia's injury than Evrille and Ark had.