Haelan’s Desire (Walk Through Shadows Book Four)
Chapter 20

Sable took Alasdair directly to the site of Haelan’s skirmish with the elves. He oriented himself while the prince looked over the bodies strewn about the space. Sable lifted a hand and pointed out the direction he and Em had approached the clearing from. “I found Em half a league north of here.”

Alasdair dipped his head in a quick nod of acknowledgment. “He would have tried to follow her.” He cast his gaze to the ground. “Did you find anything that could lead us to him?”

“No,” Sable answered. “But it was only a cursory search.”

Alasdair frowned at him for a second, then began his own search on the north half of the space. “Em didn’t mention a head injury so we can assume he still had his wits about him,” he said.

“Unless he was injured further during the fight,” Sable murmured as he moved around a tree and swept his gaze over the rough bark.

Ten minutes after their arrival, Alasdair cried, “Here!” His fingers grazed the trunk in front of him. It was a dozen paces north of their starting point. There was a sizable chunk of bark torn away. The wound appeared to be fresh. Sable hurried to the spot and looked the ground over as Alasdair moved farther north. The prince darted from tree to tree, scrutinizing the forest floor for anything that would give them a better idea of Haelan’s trajectory.

Sable did the same about twenty feet to the east of Alasdair. “Milord!” he yelled and waved at a blood smeared branch off to his right. When Alasdair approached the tree, he moved out of the way, his eyes on the spongy ground as he inspected it for boot prints. He spotted a deep gouge near the base of a tree and rushed forward. “He turned east,” he called back to Alasdair, then went ahead without waiting for a response. Fifty paces later the trail went cold, and they had to return to the blood stained tree to start again. Their next attempt proved just as fruitless.

Alasdair’s breath released in a harsh sigh. “He doesn’t have time for our mistakes,” he muttered.

“Let me go ahead,” Sable said. “If his healing magic is active, I may be able to feel it. I’ll just need to be far enough away from yours to distinguish between the two of you.”

Alasdair took a quick step back and waved his hand toward a more northern path. “I’ll try not to lose sight of you.”

Sable turned away and set off in the direction Alasdair had indicated. The dull ache near the base of his skull, the way magic typically revealed itself to him, faded as the distance between them increased. Once it had decreased to a whisper of its previous intensity, he looked back. Alasdair’s shape would have been difficult to discern from the backdrop of the forest, but thankfully he had worn a crisp white, long-sleeved shirt that day. “That’s far enough!” He yelled to Alasdair. “Keep your pace slow!” He turned away and started forward. His silvery gaze inspected the ground and nearby vegetation carefully. It took ten minutes of searching to find the next clue. A newly broken branch laying on the ground, a few of its leaves pressed deep into the loamy earth, as though someone had run into the tree, and stepped on the debris as they caught their balance. Sable turned back in the direction he’d come. “Wait there! I think I’ve found something!” He surveyed the ground in front of him, caught sight of another boot print, and shot toward it. “Haelan!” he called out as he reached it. “Tell us where you are!” Then he felt it. A flutter of discomfort, right at the base of his skull.

Magic.

He turned east, in an almost straight line from the boot print, and inched his way in that direction. The flutter grew to a spasm. He moved faster. It disappeared for a moment. His steps froze. He held perfectly still.

There was nothing.

For a full ten breaths there wasn’t so much and a hint of pain. Just as he was about to give up and change his direction, it came back in a rush. He swept his gaze across the trees in front of him. From behind the base of a wide trunk, a misty yellow glow was creeping toward him.

“Alasdair!” he bellowed as he hurried to follow the light. “This way!” His steps picked up speed as the glow intensified. He dodged around three big trees. Behind him, the sound of Alasdair racing toward him grew in volume. Sable spotted one of Haelan’s swords resting against the base of another tree. He rushed to it and saw the sole of a boot sticking out from within a bush next to the tree. “Here!” He started pulling branches back and found his prince. “He’s here!”

“Thank the stars,” Alasdair said as he got closer. Sable shoved more branches out of the way and then stepped on a couple to make enough room for them to maneuver Haelan out of the greenery. The glow spilling from the corners of Haelan’s eyes wrapped around Sable’s ankle and flowed upward. “Help me get him out of there.” Sable caught a hold of Haelan’s shoulders and lifted him gently. As soon as his chest was off the ground, Alasdair squatted down and slid his hands under his brother. He carefully pulled him to his chest and cradled his limp form as he rose. After taking a few steps into the space between the trees, he turned to Sable. His eyes narrowed as a shadow slid across the guard’s face.

Sable looked up at the small patch of sky visible above the canopy. A winged body flew over the space. “Fighters,” he said to Alasdair. “Someone must have made it back to the estate.”

Alasdair tightened his grip on Haelan. “Wait till the portal has closed then get their attention.”

“What should I tell them about—” Sable dropped his gaze to Haelan.

“Say he’s with me—”

“No one will believe he left me here, injured and not able to fly home,” Sable said quickly. “He wouldn’t do that to any of us.”

Alasdair recited the incantation for the portal, then stepped through and turned to face Sable. “He might if Em was hurt and needed medical attention. If the need was urgent.”

Sable’s lips curved into a conspiratorial smile. “Perhaps he ordered me to find the twins and regroup with the others.”

“That’s exactly what I would do in his place,” Alasdair said with a minuscule nod. He glanced at the bandage on Sable’s forehead, then turned to walk down the Blackwell’s driveway.

Sable ripped the tape free and shoved it into his waistband, under his shirt, then snatched Haelan’s sword from the ground and cast his gaze skyward. A pair of bodies passed overhead. “Hello!” he yelled, then waited. Half a minute later there was a hectic rustle of leaves, then a muted thump as the fighter landed. Sable shifted around to face the source of the noise. “I’m here!” he called to the approaching warrior. As the person got closer, and he recognized the distinctive charcoal wings, his stomach clenched with dread. Of all the people he’d have to lie to, why did it have to be him? The crown prince’s sharp eyed personal guard. Sable swallowed the unease billowing up his throat, then lifted a hand to wave to the guard. “Deamol—”

“Darkbrair, where is your prince?” Deamol asked as he got closer.

Sable’s hands tightened into heavy fists at the obvious note of disdain in the older guard’s tone. Were it not for his family’s history, Sable could have demanded an apology before answering Deamol’s question. He was, after all, titled whereas Deamol was not. Instead, he shoved his hands under his wings and ignored the heat of indignation that burned in his chest. “In the human realm,” he said. “Emmeline was injured during the storm. He ordered me to gather the other guards and find the twins.” Deamol held his gaze for a few seconds. “We were separated when the elves attacked,” Sable added.

“The twins have been found,” Deamol said as he leaned to his right, to look at the tree behind Sable. “They are making their way home as we speak.”

Sable quickly stretched his injured wing out, blocking Deamol’s view of the flattened bush at the base of the tree. “My wing was torn. I’ll need help to make it to the healing centre.”

Deamol’s gaze settled on the large gash. “I’ll send someone to assist you,” he said, then took a step back, into an open area between the trees. “I must return to Haelan’s estate to relay your news to Roldan.” Sable’s eyebrows rose with the revelation of Roldan’s whereabout. But, rather than comment, he took a few steps back and leaned against the tree, with his wing still extended. Deamol’s eyes narrowed slightly at the guard’s actions. “He’ll want to speak to you when you arrive.”

The muscles in Sable’s jaw clenched briefly. “Of course,” he said stiffly as he crossed his arms against his chest. He watched Deamol take off without another word, then dropped his chin and closed his eyes. He’d been sure he’d have to repeat the hastily concocted story a few times at least, but was not looking forward to doing it under the scrutiny of both Deamol and Roldan. Neither of them held a kind place in their hearts for him. If Sable had been an outsider to the situation, he may have understood their animosity. Not for the first time, or even the hundredth time, Sable was grateful for Haelan’s compassionate nature. The youngest prince was far more empathetic than his eldest brother. And, if it would give them a chance to save Haelan’s life, he would go over the story as many times as needed. Haelan was more to him than just the prince he’d sworn his fealty to.

He was his friend.

“Just keep it together a little longer,” Em said under her breath.

“What?” Isabelle asked. She was sitting in the back seat so she could keep an eye on Celene. The little girl had been sleeping peacefully for most of the drive, but it was nearing the end of her typical nap time.

“Nothing,” Em said over her shoulder. “I’m talking to myself.” She hit the turn indicator and eased her foot from the accelerator. “We’re almost there.”

“Thank god,” Isabelle muttered. She looked at her daughter’s face, smiled for a second, then took a breath and let it out slowly. “When we get there, you stay with Celene and I’ll talk to them.”

“But I—”

“No, Em,” Isabelle said. She yanked on the seatbelt and scooted forward in her seat. “They know about your elfiness, but Bryant’s unmated. We don’t know what might happen, and we can’t fight him off ourselves. It’s better if we don’t take unnecessary chances.”

“What if you need—”

“No,” Isabelle hissed with a quick glance at the car seat. Celene hadn’t stirred. “As much as I hate pulling the ‘older cousin card’ I don’t have much choice.” She waved her hand at the back of Em’s head. “You can be mad at me later. Right now we need to focus on getting Haelan the help he needs.” Isabelle slid back in her seat, then pulled the seatbelt into a more comfortable position. “You’re not the only one who cares about him.“ She finished her muttered sentence with a tiny sniffle.

“I know.” Em peeked in the rear-view mirror. “Everyone loves him.” She slowed the car down as they reached the driveway leading onto the Blackwell pack lands. “And that’s the way it should be, because he’s a great guy.” She blinked rapidly as her eyes filled with tears. There was a metallic click behind her as Isabelle unclipped her seatbelt. Then her cousin’s hand was on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Emmeline reached up to give Isabelle a quick squeeze in return. She took a big calming breath as she steered the car up to the Alpha’s house and shifted it into park.

The over-sized oak front door was opening before Isabelle had grabbed the handle on her door. Bryant stepped out onto the wide porch. “Stay put,” Isabelle said, then hopped out of the car.

“Isabelle!” Bryant called out with a friendly smile. “What are you doing here? Do you have an appointment with the doc?” The welcoming curve of his lips tipped down in one corner. “I thought she was at the hospital today.”

“She’s not here?” Isabelle asked as she hurried to the bottom of the stairs.

He looked over to his left, where the driveway continued onto the property, and the collection of houses in that area. “I was sure I saw her heading out when I was running this morning.”

“Dammit,” Isabelle spat as she spun around to look at Em through the windshield.

Bryant rushed down the half-dozen steps and came to a stop directly behind Isabelle. “If some-thing’s happening with your baby, we can track her down at the hospital. She won’t mind. It’s just a fifteen minute drive—”

Isabelle turned back to him. “Celene’s fine. It’s Haelan.” She lifted her hand and shoved her hair away from her face in a quick frustrated motion. “He’s been shot with an arrow.” She waved her hand at the car. “He told Em it’s stuck by his Magus node. The faeries won’t be able to get it out, they don’t have surgeons. We can’t take him to a hospital, it’s too risky.” She watched his eyes dart to the car. “Can you help us?”

“It sounds like he needs a trauma surgeon,” he said, then dropped his gaze back to Isabelle’s distressed face. “Even if we had one here, my father isn’t here to approve a request from the queen—”

“She’s not asking.” Isabelle lifted her hands and pressed her palms to her chest. “I am. Not the faeries. Just me.”

Bryant’s eyebrows went up slightly with that pronouncement. “Okay,” he said. “But the Doc isn’t here and even if she was—”

“She’s not a surgeon,” Isabelle finished for him, then looked over her shoulder at Em’s anxious expression for a second. “Do you know anyone that can help us? One of the other packs or someone else? Someone you trust?” She looked up at Bryant. “I’ll pay them whatever they want or buy them whatever it takes.”

Bryant drew in a long, slow breath. “Isabelle,” he said. “You know I like you and Alasdair—”

“He’ll die if we don’t help him,” she said softly.

“We’re all going to catch hell if—”

“I’ll take all the blame.” She grabbed his forearm. “All of it, I swear.” His eyes closed. “It’ll be worth it.” She held her breath as he opened his eyes and held her gaze. “You’ve met him, you’ve seen what kind of person he is.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a little smile. “Bryant, please,” she whispered.

His head tipped back with his sigh of resignation. “You are relentless.” He looked at her again. “I almost feel sorry for Alasdair.” He smirked. “Almost.”

“It’s his brother,” she said. “His baby brother.”

He held her pleading gaze for a second, then nodded once. “Is he in the car?”

“No, in the faerie realm. Alasdair is searching for him right now—”

“That gives us a bit of time at least,” Bryant said, then reached into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his phone.

“You know someone?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Bryant answered as he scrolled through his contacts. “I’m not making any promises.” He gave her a quick smile. “But it can’t hurt to ask.” Isabelle nodded, then looked at the car and held up her hand to let Em know it would be a few more minutes before they’d have an answer. “Hey Miles,” Bryant said as soon as the call was answered. “It’s Bryant Blackwell.” He listened for a moment, then continued. “No, it’s not about him this time. I’ve got a bit of a situation with a faerie and we’re hoping you can help—No, not a fairy, a faerie. There’s a difference.” Isabelle looked up at his bemused expression with a frown. “He’s about the same height as me—” His head tipped to the side as he listened. “The wings are proportionate.” He sucked in a breath. “We need someone to get an arrow out of him. His people can’t do it and now I’ve got his sister-in-law on my doorstep begging for help.” He went quiet for a few seconds, then threw his free hand up. “It’s complicated. We can talk about it later. Hang on a sec.” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “You said it’s in his Magus node?” he asked Isabelle.

“Yes,” she said. “The node sits in the space between their heart and right lung. Em said the arrow went in threw his side, I’m guessing at an angle?” She used one hand to point out a spot behind her arm, like Em had shown her. “Tell him that faeries have thicker bones and muscle than humans.”

“Did you catch that?” Bryant asked into the phone. “Do you think you can get it out?” He listened for a moment, then nodded to Isabelle. “I don’t think we can sneak him into your clinic at this time of day. Can you bring what you need here? You can use our—” He nodded again. “That should—” His voice cut off as his gaze shifted from Isabelle’s face to the end of the driveway. Alasdair had stepped out of a portal. “Hold on.” He pulled the phone away. “Shit,” he muttered. “He’s an hour away and we don’t have anyone here—”

“Where’s he coming from?” Isabelle asked quickly.

“Baltic,” Bryant answered.

“Does he know your brother?”

“They’re good friends,” he said.

“Tell him to go to Garret’s place,” Isabelle said. “Alasdair can use portals to bring him here.”

Bryant frowned. “Is that allowed?”

“Without an invitation from the queen? I doubt it.” She waved her hand at him, then turned to watch Alasdair hurry towards them. “We’ll just add it to today’s list of transgressions.”

Bryant sighed heavily. “Okay,” he said, then put the phone to his ear. “We’re sending someone to meet you. His name is Alasdair. Big guy with long dark hair. Can you get your stuff together and meet him at Garrett’s?” He listened for a moment. “I’ll let him know. Thanks Miles.” He disconnected the call, shoved his phone back into his pocket, then turned to rush up the stairs and open the door for Alasdair.

As soon as Alasdair passed the car, the driver’s side door flew open. “Haelan!” Em cried.

Alasdair didn’t pause at the sound of her voice. Or when Haelan’s eyes opened slightly and the glow seeping from beneath his eyelids turned from the soft yellow into a faint green that grew more intense as Em chased after them. “Emmeline,” Alasdair said in a gentle tone. “You must keep distance between yourself and Haelan.”

She got to the porch, tried to dodge around Alasdair, and reached for Haelan’s forearm. “But—”

Haelan groaned softly. Alasdair pulled him out of Em’s reach. “You are his true mate—”

“I know,” she said as she tried to grab for Haelan again.

“Lass stop!” Alasdair turned his back to her. “He isn’t strong enough to hold back the magic.” He swung around and stepped through the doorway. “To survive this he may need every drop of strength he has left.” He looked at Isabelle, who was watching from the bottom of the steps. “Please lass, explain it to her.” He turned away, and Bryant closed the door.

Em whipped around to face Isabelle. “Explain what?”

Isabelle motioned for her to come down the stairs. “I only know what he’s told me but, from what I understand, when a faerie mates with someone their life forces get mixed together—” She circled her hands around each other. “Or mingled together maybe? Humans have a shorter life span so when they mate with us, we take part of theirs.” Em sucked in a breath then walked down the stairs. “Who knows if or how that could effect him right now.” She reached out and gripped Em’s upper arms gently. “Alasdair’s right. It’s too big a risk.”

“I just want him to know I’m here,” Em whispered.

“Alasdair will tell him,” Isabelle said.

Em nodded, then straightened her shoulders. “What now?”

Isabelle’s gaze swung to the big oak door for a moment. It remained closed, then looked at the car. “Well, we can’t wait out here,” she said. “I’m not going home till we know he’s going to be okay. You can take the car—”

“I want to stay,” Em said quickly.

Isabelle turned her gaze to her cousin’s face. “Then we’ll figure something out,” Isabelle said.

Alasdair strode into the treatment room and gently laid Haelan on the table. He rolled him onto his side and visibly winced as the jagged end of the arrow came into view. The finished portion with the fletching must have been snapped off either during Haelan’s battle with the elves or during his descent into the bush.

“Here,” Bryant said as he entered the room. “Put this behind him.” He held a thick pillow, that he’d taken from one of the patient rooms, out to Alasdair then stopped near Haelan’s head. After he lifted the prince’s head, he slipped another pillow in place, then looked at Alasdair. “You need to go to my brother’s.” Alasdair finished tucking the pillow under Haelan’s back and straightened. “There’s a man, a human, that will meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

Alasdair frowned. “Where is your doctor?” he asked.

“In town, on a shift at the hospital, I think,” Bryant said, then lifted his hands, palms up, in front of his waist. “Isabelle sounded desperate.” He glanced at Haelan. “Which is understandable.” His gaze shifted to Alasdair’s face. The frown had deepened. “I called a friend of my dad’s. Well, Garrett’s too, actually. He’s closer than anyone else I could think of.”

“He’s a doctor?” Bryant nodded once. “And he knows what you really are?”

“He found out about that, accidentally of course, right before Garrett was born,” Bryant said then turned away to a nearby cabinet. “You can trust him.” He pulled out a pair of scissors and a handful of paper wrapped gauze. “His name is Miles Sinclair.” The faint lines around Alasdair’s eyes twitched for a second. At a different time, it might have been the initiation of a smile. “Isabelle suggested using portals to bring him here.” Alasdair’s gaze flicked up from his brother’s body to Bryant’s face. “She has a point. It’s an hour drive—” He waved his hand over Haelan’s side. “Can he really wait?”

Alasdair sucked in a breath and looked down at his brother. “No, I don’t think he can.”

“Here.” Bryant shoved the scissors in Alasdair’s direction. “You cut his shirt off. I need to call Garrett and let him know you and Miles are going to be passing through.”

“Tell him I’ll open the portal behind his house,” Alasdair said as he accepted the scissors. “There’s less risk of exposure back there.”

“I’ll tell him,” Bryant said, then went into the hallway.

Alasdair grabbed the hem of Haelan’s shirt and started cutting a line toward the arrow, moving as quickly as he could without jostling Haelan. As he worked, the healing magic inched up his hands. The glow was fainter than it had been in the forest, like it was becoming a ghost before him. The sharp blades of the scissors sliced through the blood-soaked fabric and reached the arrow. Haelan groaned softly. Alasdair froze and shifted his gaze to his brother’s face. Haelan’s eyelids fluttered once, then again. He drew in a shallow breath, held it for a second, then whispered something Alasdair couldn’t make out. Alasdair gently lifted the scissors away and leaned down to listen. “Haelan,” he said softly.

“Where—” Haelan’s voice cut off in a painful moan.

“I’m here brother.”

Haelan sucked in a deeper breath with a wince. “Em. Where’s Em?”

“Upstairs.” Haelan’s eyelids fluttered again. Alasdair gripped his shoulder. “With Isabelle. Don’t worry we’ll look after her.” The muscles in Haelan’s face tightened for a moment, as though he was trying to find the strength to say something else. “Rest brother.” The muscles under Alasdair’s fingers tensed. “After I retrieve the doctor, I will find out where the twins are.” Haelan’s body relaxed. Alasdair looked up as Bryant came into the room.

“Garrett’s at home. He’ll run interference if anyone gets too close.” Bryant gave the sword pommel sticking up from behind Alasdair’s shoulder a pointed look. “You should leave that here though.”

Alasdair tossed the scissors to the werewolf and quickly unbuckled the strap from his chest. “I’ll leave it with Isabelle,” he said as he moved to the door. “Will you stay with him until I return?” He stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at Haelan. “He shouldn’t be alone.”

“Sure,” Bryant said quickly. “Tell Isabelle and Emmeline they can wait in the dining room.” He waved the scissors at the ceiling. “We both know they’re not going anywhere. The dining room isn’t used much, so it’s more private than the rest of the house.”

Alasdair’s weight shifted as he took a step into the hallway. Then he paused. “Bryant, I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”

Bryant’s lips turned up in a little smile. “I’d do the same if he was my brother.”

Alasdair’s gaze held Bryant’s for a moment. Haelan’s breath caught in a pain filled hitch. Both Alasdair and Bryant looked at him. “I’ll be back soon,” Alasdair called softly.

When Bryant looked up a second later, the doorway was empty.

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