Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thousands of screams echoed inside Thrasher’s mind. He couldn’t seem to block them out no matter how hard he tried. Kaspyn. Where was Kaspyn? Was she among the screams? Had she been caught and tortured?
A moan of denial left Thrasher’s burning lips. If something had happened to Kaspyn… He couldn’t finish the thought.
“Thrasher? Can you hear me?”
Kaspyn’s beautiful voice. She couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t hear her so clearly if she were dead.
Unless he himself had died and the voice he heard came from an angel.
“Thrasher? Come back to me.”
Fighting through the pain and darkness, Thrasher strained to crack his eyes open. And there, kneeling above him was his beautiful Kaspyn.
He opened his mouth to tell her just how beautiful he thought her to be, but his voice didn’t want to cooperate.
“Shhhhh, do not try to speak. Your throat sustained some damage. It will be too painful to form words.”
Thrasher noticed she spoke without moving her lips. He studied her face, sending her a questioning look.
Kaspyn appeared uncomfortable. “You were dying, Thrasher. You needed blood, and the doctor could not administer that blood without knowing your type. So…I offered mine.”
Understanding dawned. He now had Kaspyn’s blood in his veins, which meant that he could hear her thoughts.
“You saved my life,” he mentally sent back.
Kaspyn reached up and brushed his hair away from his forehead. “You would have done the same for me.”
And he would, in a heartbeat. “Does this mean we’re mated?”
“Do you want it to mean that?”
Thrasher opened his mouth, his voice hoarse and gravelly. “Your father will never allow you to be mated to me.
“That is not what I asked.”
A soft knock sounded, setting Thrasher’s teeth on edge. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with Kaspyn.
“You may enter,” Kaspyn called out.
The sound of the door opening could be heard seconds before Zaureth stepped into Kaspyn’s bedroom. “I came to check on Thrasher’s condition.”
“He seems to be growing stronger,” Kaspyn responded, glancing down into Thrasher’s aching face. “The swelling is already leaving his eyes.”
Zaureth gestured toward the bed. “May I?”
“Of course.” Thrasher listened as Zaureth moved around to the other side of the bed and took a seat on his right.
The healer pulled back the sheet, a soft intake of breath echoing inside the room. “How is this possible?”
“What is it?” Kaspyn whispered, leaning in closer.
“His wounds are healing at a rapid rate. I do not understand. He heals as a Bracadyte would.”
Thrasher could feel Kaspyn’s jumbled emotions. “What are you saying?”
“Your blood,” Zaureth breathed in awe. “The transfusion you gave him has altered him somehow.”
“But, how?”
“I do not know for certain,” Zaureth softly admitted. “But this information will need to be kept quiet. If the land walkers find out, none of us will ever be safe again.”
Kaspyn gently ran a fingertip along Thrasher’s upper arm. “I will not speak of it.”
“Klause will need to know, as will Hauke’s mate. Abbie can probably tell us exactly what is going on. Although, I have an idea.”
Thrasher did too. Apparently, Kaspyn’s blood flowing in his veins had altered him, giving him healing abilities. He wondered what other things it could have altered.
Zaureth took a seat on the edge of the bed and laid his palms on either side of Thrasher’s face. A soft humming sound began to vibrate through the room, drawing a moan from Thrasher’s throat.
He slowly turned his head toward Zaureth, his lips attempting a smile. “I always knew you were attracted to me,” Thrasher wheezed, teasing the big Bracadyte.
Zaureth moved his hands down Thrasher’s neck to stop on his chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps Kaspyn’s blood has made you slightly feminine.”
A strangled sound escaped Thrasher’s throat with his attempt at a laugh. “Perhaps. Damn, it’s good to see you, Z.”
“I am grateful to see you as well, my friend. I cannot imagine what you endured at the hands of Kerik and his army. I am only glad that you survived.”
Thrasher blinked with his partially open eye. “Thanks to you, Kaspyn, and the others. I owe you my life.”
“You owe me nothing,” Zaureth stated quietly. “Now, rest. At the rate you are healing, I would venture to say that you will be on your feet within hours.”
Thrasher tested his arms, marveling at the lack of pain evident there. Even the swelling in his face had receded in the past few minutes. “Did you come alone?”
Zaureth shook his head. “Klause, Naura, Vaulcron, Hauke, and a dozen others are here as well.”
An overwhelming feeling of emotion settled inside Thrasher’s chest. Though he knew that Vaughn had been top priority, he also knew that Vaughn hadn’t been captured. No, the Bracadytes had traveled all the way to Cuba and risked their lives for him, Melvin Escabar…Thrasher.
Zaureth got to his feet. “I will check on you at a later time.”
“Hey, Z?” Thrasher stared up at the healer for several heartbeats.
“I know,” Zaureth murmured, saving Thrasher from speaking the words. “Now, rest.”
And with that, he left the room.