Guardian of Calandria | ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Eight

          Crackles of fire broke through the fading veil of Kira's dreamscape. Her fingers twitched, both hands rested on her flat stomach. A smile teased her lips. She didn't want the dream to end, for her eyes to open, and reality to sink in. Too many unknowns awaited her in the real world. Unknowns she didn't want to face yet. Her dream was wonderful, a glimpse into a world she wanted. A world she needed.

"I lay on my death bed and you're smiling in your sleep. Not feeling the love, Kira." Ry's familiar voice rose above the sizzles of the fire. Kira's smile widened, her eyes open as she turned her head. Ry lay flat on his back; a white blanket covered the lower half of his torso down to his feet. Both arms were tucked beneath his head, creating a pillow.

"You're all right?" Kira sat up in bed, it squeaked with the shifting of her weight. The last thing she'd remembered was Dougary dropping her on a cot set up inside the a Seer's meeting hall. Ry turned his head and smiled. Purple crescent moons lingered under his eyes. His dark skin was marbled by even darker veins.

"I'm all right. Dougary says with enough magic I might get full mobility back someday."

"Full mobility?"

Ry lowered his arms, draping his left arm over his chest. He sighed. "I can't move my legs, Kira. The harpy's claws cut my spinal cord, it missed a vital organ by inches at least."

He pushed his torso up with his elbows, twisting to one side. "I'm part of the tattoo gang now." He pushed the sheet to reveal his lower back. Circling just above his waistline was a crown of vines with thorns tattooed in green ink. The ink sparkled with flecks of yellow moving in a slow swirl throughout the vines. "Mine is temporary, though. A Wilder healer need's to re-do it once a month. Already it's allowing me to at least sit up. Before, all I did was stare at the ceiling. Though they caution me that it may not completely heal me properly."

Ry lay back down, adjusting the sheet to smooth over his torso. Kira swallowed, tears rimmed her eyes. She couldn't stop staring at Ry's legs, thinking there was more she could've done for him.

"Hey, none of that crying. You did everything you could. In fact, Addrick had to pull you off of me before you killed yourself trying to heal me. We should be thankful you and Dougary did enough to keep me alive. This is nothing compared to death." Kira wiped the tears from her eyes. She leaned forward, reaching her hands towards him.

"Give me your hand."

Ry smiled. "Now, Kira. If you wanted my hand in marriage, you missed that boat. We've established we're friends, family even. Besides, the Wilder blacksmiths built me this incredible chair with wheels; it allows me to move around without much issue. Man, the sympathy I've been getting." He whistled. "These Wilder women are naughty."

"Ry shut up and give me your hand. I had a dream about you—"

"I always knew I was the man of your dreams, now how to tell Add—"

"Shut up!" She shook both her hands, nodding toward his. He sighed and reached one hand toward her. She cupped her hands over his. Kira closed her eyes focusing on her breathing. With Zarich gone, the bind on her seer's power should've been broken, at least she hoped it was. If her power had returned, then the dream meant something.

"Your hand is sweaty," Ry said.

"Shut up, your hand is ice so quit complaining. Let me concentrate." She sighed, shaking her head. Ry was always a baby when he was sick. She figured not using his legs was getting to him more than he let on. One by one, she inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly with a faint whistle. To her, it was funny how little time passed from her and Addrick sitting on the floor of his house training her to use the seer power. Yet it felt like years had gone by.