Khael's chambers were silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire that warmed the stone walls. He laid Selene carefully on the bed, his touch gentle despite the roaring fury that still simmered beneath his skin.
Her blood stained his hands, but she made no sound beyond a shallow breath as he carefully pulled away the torn fabric around her neck. His jaw clenched at the sight of the ugly gash carved into her delicate skin.
Slowly, methodically, he cleaned the wound with a damp cloth, his fingers brushing lightly against her trembling body. She lay still beneath his hands, her eyes closed and her lashes dark against her pale cheeks.
When he finished tending the cut, Khael hesitated for a moment, then pressed a soft kiss to her cheek—a wordless apology for all the pain he hadn't protected her from.
He leaned closer, his hand cupping her jaw, intending to kiss her properly, to remind her that she was safe now, that she belonged to him. But as his lips brushed hers, he felt her stiffen under him, a soft, broken whimper escaping her throat.
Khael pulled back immediately, alarm flaring in his chest. His gaze raked over her again—and then he saw it.
The way her right arm remained unnaturally still. The way she flinched if he so much as grazed it.
Selene's lips parted slightly, as if she were about to speak, but it took her a few long seconds to find her voice.
"My shoulder," she whispered, her breath shaky. "It hurts."
A dark, terrible stillness fell over Khael. His fingers brushed her shoulder carefully, feeling the way the joint sat awkwardly out of place, the inflamed skin already swelling.
"Who did this?" he demanded, his voice low and lethal, though he already knew the answer.
Selene's good hand curled into the sheets. Slowly, she nodded, her face tightening with fresh pain.
"Xandare." King Khael mouthed.
He clenched his jaw as he rose from the bed with a speed that made Selene flinch. His eyes were pure red now, glowing with a fury that could level mountains. Without a word, he turned and stormed from the room, the door slamming behind him—the effect was hard enough to rattle the walls.
Selene lay back against the pillows, her arm throbbing with unexplainable pain, her heart pounding harder with vigour as each minute went by. She could only imagine what was happening beyond those walls—what Khael would do to the one who had dared lay a hand on her.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.
And then the door burst open again.
Khael stood there, breathing hard. There were blood stains on his knuckles with the raw scent of violence still clinging to him. His hair was disheveled while his expression dark and unrepentant.
He came to her immediately, kneeling by the bed, his hands hovering above her injured shoulder.
"I killed him," he said simply, voice rough. "It wasn't enough. It'll never be enough."
Selene didn't need to be told what he had just done to the Xyiom. She blinked back tears that she hadn't even realized had welled in her eyes. She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
"We need to set this," Khael said quietly. "It will hurt, but after... it will heal."
She braced herself, grabbing a pillow with her good arm and biting down.
Khael's large, calloused hands positioned her shoulder carefully. He met her gaze, giving her a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Then, with one swift, precise motion, he snapped her shoulder back into place.
Selene screamed into the pillow, the pain white-hot and blinding. But almost immediately, a strange relief flooded her arm—the unbearable tension began easing slightly.
Khael pulled her into his arms, rocking her gently, his hand stroking her hair as she shuddered against him.
"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I should have been there. I should have protected you."
They lay there for a long time, Khael's body wrapped around hers, the storm inside both of them finally settled into something quieter, something raw and real.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled Selene into a restless sleep, but when she woke, she found him still holding her, his golden eyes watching her with a tenderness he rarely let the world see.
Selene shifted carefully, feeling the dull ache in her shoulder but determined not to be deterred. She pressed her good hand to Khael's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
"Khael," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I have to treat Lyra. She's hurt. Please... please let me help her."
For a long moment, he didn't answer.
His jaw tightened. He looked away, struggling with something inside himself. He wanted to deny her, to keep her safe and close and untouched by more pain. But he saw the desperation in her eyes, the way she would never forgive herself if she didn't try.
Finally, he gave a low, reluctant sigh.
"You will not go alone," he said. "I will send guards to bring her to the kingdom's healers."
Relief and gratitude broke over Selene so strongly that she could hardly breathe.
"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his chest in gratitude.
Khael closed his eyes, letting her presence fill the broken spaces inside him. He would have given her anything in that moment, even if it meant tearing down the very walls of his own kingdom.
Because Selene wasn't just his queen, she was his heart and he would do anything to keep things that way.
"Tell me where she is, so I can send the guards to go get her and take her to the healers." Khael said, stroking Selene's hair gently while he spoke and pulling her closer to him.
"My sister is in my quarters, your Majesty."