Chapter 39

"There has to be another explanation that we're not seeing." Damion's strained voice drifts into my consciousness before I have the chance to open my eyes. There's a tension in his voice that resounds like a bowstring tugged too tightly. It makes me want to force my eyes open to try to make that stress disappear somehow.

"I thought so too at first," Orm's familiar voice responds, "Yet, when I went through my research records, it was the only thing that made sense. The symptoms line up with what she told me she's been experiencing."

"Traveling with her in this condition could prove to do more damage to her if this doesn't work," Damion growls, "So I need to know you're sure, Orm, or else you're going to have to search for another solution."

"There *is* no other solution. Of that I am certain."

Heat courses through my skin pounding through my head and despite my best efforts, a whimper slips between my clenched lips. A large hand rests on my shoulder, another softly brushing sweat soaked strands of hair away from my forehead. I don't know how, but I know that it's Damion without needing to open my eyes.

His skin feels cool against my flushed skin and I lean into his soothing touch to absorb some of that coolness. His fingers brush through my hair again, more gentle than I'd ever thought possible.

"Whatever you decide, you need to do it quickly," Orm tells him in a low voice.

There's a long drawn out pause before Damion lets out a low resolved breath, "Xavier," he calls out, louder this time, and there's a creak of the door opening, "I need you to make preparations for us to travel north. We'll be leaving within the hour. Wake Leif and inform him as well."

"Yes, Commander." Xavier says, and the door creaks shut behind him.

"I'll prepare something to help keep her asleep while you travel," Orm says, "It's imperative that she conserve as much energy as possible until you reach Elfhame."

Elfhame? I want to ask what's going on, but I can't find the strength to find my lips to ask.

The weight of someone settling their weight next to me on the edge of the mattress shifts the bed, "Lily," Damion says, in that deep voice of his. I feel my eyelids flutter with the need to open them and see him, but I can't get my eyes opened the rest of the way, "You're going to be fine," he says. "We're going to get you to what we believe is a cure. We'll need to ride for a few days, but all you need to worry about is resting. I'll do whatever it takes to get you better."

His warm hand finds mine, and I squeeze his fingers gently to let him know that I can hear him. The mattress shifts and I feel him lean in closer before something warm lips press to my forehead making my stomach flutter and are gone the next moment.

"Get some more rest. I'll come and get you when it's time to leave."

Whether I want to or not, I do as he says and drift back into unconsciousness.

When I wake again, I realize right away that I'm no longer in bed. I'm being held up in a sitting position, the uneven gait of a horse thumping beneath me. The cold wind that whips into my face is a relief against my feverish skin, and while the air is frigid, I feel snug and warm tucked against the person behind me.

Forcing my eyes open, the first thing I see is the pile of pelts and quilts I've been bundled into. I've been swaddled up like an infant, and while I may look ridiculous, I feel so snug and warm there's no way I'm going to complain. A large set of arms cage me into a sturdy body behind me keeping me from tumbling off the horse as we pass through unfamiliar terrain at suck a fast pace the surroundings are only a blur.

I don't understand how I know that it's Damion's body pressed into mine, but my entire body prickles with warm electrifying tingles that tell me it's him I'm resting against. Where my cheek is pressed against his chest, I can hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat above the thundering hoofbeats beneath us.

My swirling foggy thoughts can't remember what I'm doing here or what's happening.

"Damion?" I ask sleepily, "What's going on? Why are we on a horse?"

I don't know how he hears me over the sounds of the wind and galloping horses, but he does. It's probably due to the fact that his shifter hearing is so much better than mine is.

"We're getting you somewhere you can get better," he says, glancing down at me. His eyes are the usual dark shade-a black so dark that it's hard to tell where his pupil ends and his iris begins. This close to him though, I can see flecks of silver streaking through the iris making his eyes look like a starry sky.

The sharp corner of his jaw flexes, the skin there now covered by a fine layer of stubble that hadn't been there before, "Are you in pain at all?" He asks me, "Do you need more medicine?"

My head is still pounding and my stomach clenches uncomfortably with nausea, but it's a a pain that I'm accustomed to so it barely registers anymore. I'm a little surprised that the gait of the horse doesn't make my stomach more queasy than it is, but I'm tucked in so tightly against Damion that I don't really feel the movement as much as I would normally.

"I'm alright," I hurry to assure him, "How long have we been riding for?"

Flexing my feet and legs that are cocooned so tightly in blankets I can't move them much, I can feel a stiffness in my muscles that tells me I've been sleeping for a long time.

"About a day and a half," he says, his eyes still trained on the terrain surrounding us.

A day and a half? My brain stutters over that fact, trying to figure out where we could possibly be riding to.

*We're getting you somewhere you can get better.*

My stomach stinks in my stomach as the only real possibility of where we could be riding to dawns on me. I can't go back to the Seelie Court, I *can't*. The second I step back in my father's court, I'll be shipped back to the Unseelie to bind our contract with them. With Damion's help, I'd barely been able to slip through their fingers last time. If they managed to get their hands on me again, they'd be more prepared. They'd put so many guards on my that it would be impossible for me to escape

I shift in my seat again, the sudden wave of anxiety making me throat and chest so tight I can barely suck in enough air.

Damion must hear the way my heartbeat and breathing escalate by the second, because he looks away from the road to check on me. His black eyes have shifted to a deep shade of purple, "*Lily*?" He rasps.

With my heart in my throat, I manage to say, "You'reyou're not taking me back home, are you?"