The beeping on the monitor grows more rapid and Hadrian begins to stir. When he opens his eyes and finds me awake, he shoots straight up.
“Lyric?”
I should be worried about everyone else. It’s my self-appointed duty to protect them. Instead, all I can think about is Hadrian.
“Water,” I croak out.
He hesitates, then retrieves a glass. Silently, he watches me drink. I’m too thirsty to be self-conscious. When I drain the first, he brings me a second. By the third, my throat feels semi-normal, or at least as normal as it can be under the circumstances.
“How is everyone?” I ask, though I’m afraid to know the answer. “What’s happening?”
Hadrian sits beside me, his eyes exhausted but intense. “Several of your guards have succumbed to the disease. One of the women as well.”
I close my eyes, wondering who it could have been, then force myself to look at him, gesturing with a nod of my head for him to continue.
“Many, many of the women are sick. Some severely. They’re isolated in mobile units until they are no longer contagious. This strain, according to Zoe’s conversations with Avrell, seems to rage for about seven solars. A week,” he corrects at my confused look. “You’ve been through the worst of it now and should recover quickly. It doesn’t last long once the fever is gone, though you may be weak for a few days.”
My eyes go to my restraints. “Can I be released from these things?” I ask. “You aren’t sick, are you?”
He nods, then goes to work untying the belts at my calves, thighs, waist, and chest. “We had to restrain you, or you would have clawed at the sores. They’re healing now and they shouldn’t scar thanks to herbs Zoe and Theron collected. Avrell says if we haven’t shown symptoms by now, we won’t get it, even though we always worried it was something that could happen. All these revolutions, I thought we suited up to keep The Rades out when going outdoors, but it turns out, he wasn’t worried about The Rades. He was concerned about the R-Levels that still pose deadly risks and mutations. But as far as The Rades go, we morts should be okay. He and Calix think since we were exposed to the disease before, we’ve developed some sort of antibody against it. Though he’s not certain exactly how until we do further testing. He thinks this information will be useful in developing an inoculation to prevent it in the future.”
I stand and immediately crumple. Hadrian catches me in his arms and a jolt that has nothing to do with illness courses through my body.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he says softly. The arms around me are gentle, as though he fears holding me too tight may cause me to break.
“You won’t get rid of me so easily.” But he doesn’t smile. If anything, the sorrow in his eyes deepens. “Hey, don’t be sad. I feel much better now. You said it yourself. I’m going to be okay.”
I’ve never seen anyone look at me the way he does.
Like I’m the answer he’s been looking for all his life.
“I never want to go through that again,” he says. I can’t help but lift a hand to touch his hair, remembering how he’d talked me through the madness. My Hadrian. Strong. Sweet. Fierce.
“You won’t. I promise. It’s going to be okay.”
He folds into me, his arms coming around my waist, his head resting against my shoulder. I press my face into his hair, wordlessly offering comfort.
This universe is so vast and it’s so easy to feel alone.
Hadrian’s grip tightens around me as though reminding me that with him around, I’ll never be alone again.
14
Hadrian
They’re fighting.
Again.
I’ve known Avrell since I was a mortling and I’ve never seen him so…unhinged. Zoe brings that element out of the strongest person. This, I know firsthand.
I clutch her shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze as I join the meeting uninvited. Avrell is ranting over how irresponsible she is.
“Enough,” I say when he says she’ll probably die, and she can thank herself for that.
Zoe may put on a tough persona, but her shoulders tense at his words, her only tell that she’s been affected.
Avrell growls and his sub-bones start popping—a sound I’ve never heard from him. He can be angry all he wants, but what’s done is done.
“Now that you have that out of your system, let’s focus,” I tell him in an authoritative tone Breccan would be proud of.
From the corner of the room, Lyric flashes me a smile. It’s been two days since she woke, and I’ve been nursing her back to health. Her strength returns with each passing moment.
“I’m immune,” Zoe says. “After isolating the affected genes that had attacked Bruce, I injected them into myself. This was on day three. There have been no changes in my health or blood samples. Well, aside from the fact The Rades, though forced into my system, has been eliminated. Now, rather than bitching me out for what’s already done, tell me how we can use this, Doc. I know there’s a brain in that hothead of yours.”