Kinked (Elder Races, #6)(94)

To Aryal’s eyes, he had always looked dangerous. Now even the thickest, most insensitive of idiots could see it too.

“Are you going to want plastic surgery?” she asked.

He gave her a blank look. “Why?”

“The scars on your face,” she said.

He shrugged, patently indifferent to the idea. “If I were to take the time to do anything, to tell you the truth, I’d rather finally get a rooftop garden over my apartment.”

One corner of her mouth lifted, because she loved the scars.

She said, “Good.”

Then they arrived. The nurse pushed open the doors for them and they walked into an alien place filled with medical machinery, an operating table and more masked people. Two of them, off to one side, were Pia and Dragos.

The harpy stopped and scowled at them. “What are you doing in here?”

The dragon looked at her, his gold eyes mesmerizing.

Trust us, Dragos whispered in her head. Leave your panic behind. All will be well, Aryal. There is no need to fight anybody here.

Ah. It was going to be that kind of sedation. She had wondered, since adrenaline would have helped her to throw off any medication before they could possibly be done with the surgery.

She gave herself over readily to the dragon’s enthrallment, and climbed on the table to lie on her stomach, placing her forehead in the headrest as instructed. They wheeled tables in on either side of her to spread out her wings.

Quentin sat cross-legged on the floor so that he could look up at her. He took her hands again in an unbreakable grasp. “Hold on to me,” he said. “Don’t let go.”

“Okay.” She struggled not to hyperventilate.

Power filled the room from more than one person, and she lost sensation from the neck down. The harpy cried out as a blind animal panic tried to take her over again, and the dragon whispered. Trust. No need to fight. All will be well.

Vaguely she could sense tugging on her body. The smell of her own blood filled the air. They had cut into her. Then came other sounds, like a tapping of either a chisel or a small hammer.

The surgeon said in a cool, calm voice, “I’m going to have to break this again.”

Razor teeth. Her carpal joint crushed. Muscles torn.

She was lost in a nightmare, lost …

Aryal, the harpy’s mate said telepathically. Look at me. Look. At. Me.

He had a surfeit of his own Power, and his words penetrated both her panic and the dragon’s beguilement. As she looked at him, he stroked her face, and she knew that he would do anything he had to so that they survived.

Tell me again the promises you told me in Numenlaur, he said.

Her lips shook. You need reassurance now? You really are high maintenance, aren’t you?

You know everything’s always all about me, he told her, the steady, concerned look in his eyes belying their attempt at banter. Please. Tell me again.

There were so many words to that promise, and people were making noise and doing things to her, and she almost screamed at him to f*ck off, all of it swirling in her head like a tornado looking to break out of her body.

Then something clicked inside, and she could focus on him.

She said, I made a promise to you before you came into my life.

I know you did, he said. There was so much love in his eyes. So much. And I’m so grateful for it.

I will never betray you, she said to him. I will never endanger your life with my carelessness or impetuosity. I will fight for and with you. I will—I will—

Out of her sight, someone started a tiny saw, and her expression twisted.

Quentin rose up on his knees. The intensity in his blue gaze burned into hers, pushing everything else away. He said to her strongly, I will always have your back whenever you might need me.

Realization hit. He had memorized every word of what she had said.

That was when she found her center.

She whispered, I will not leave you, and I will not lie to you, and if you will be patient and forgiving, I will learn how to forgive too. Because you’ve become the most important thing in the world to me. I’ll give everything I have to you, along with everything I can be, if only you will do the same.

And remember, there’s more, Quentin said. Because somehow it’s going to be okay.

She rested in the adamancy in his gaze. Then she said, Because I could never endanger my mate by throwing my own life away.

He smiled at her. She didn’t understand why he looked so proud, because she still felt whacked-out and slashy.

And paragliding is not stupid, he said. He tilted his head and kissed the harpy’s lips. As long as we do it together.

That’s a bargain, she whispered.

The best bargain of all. He was a magician, all right. By using only smoke and mirrors, he had somehow managed to banish the last of her panic.

That was when something really odd happened. Speaking with brisk authority, Kathryn ordered the rest of the surgical team out of the room. Murmuring in puzzlement, they filed out. As the last of them left, the scent of someone else’s blood—Pia’s blood—filled the air.

Aryal said out loud, “What the f*ck are you guys doing back there?”

“Hold on a few moments longer, Aryal,” said Kathryn somewhat breathlessly. “You’re doing an awesome job. We’re almost finished.”

A new Power began to fill Aryal’s body, and it was simply ravishing, cool like moonlight and exquisitely clear, like the finest crystal. It filled her entirely and took all the pain away, all of it, and bathed her spirit tenderly with the finest hope.