The Only

Chapter Twenty-One - Neima

"Where is my son?" The deep voice boomed.

Neima needn't have guessed who it was. At the top of the stairs, she paused to text Karl to come to the first floor. Her thumbs fumbled across the keyboard until finally they finished spelling out the few words. There was no telling what kind of mood Hamza was in. She had to proceed carefully to ensure peace was kept throughout the castle.

Stashing the phone in her back pocket, Neima dashed down the stairs to see Hamza and Roland in the foyer — naked. Well, half naked. But still, it was shocking to see a Mutare in such a state, especially the leader of the tribe going against The Way and showing skin to the public. It was a sure sign that for the first time in a long while, his concern for his own people, his own son, overruled religious observance.

The emir threw on the clothes that Yasmin handed him. Roland followed suit, quickly grabbing his clothes from the hand of one of Hamza's lieutenants. He pulled down the shirt, swiftly hiding some pretty gruesome scars that spanned his very broad back.

Hamza turned to look at her. Neima caught her breath. His eyes were still those of the hawk form he took to travel back so quickly. He was in such a rush, he hadn't let the transition fully complete — another violation of The Way.

"How is my son?" He pulled together his long, silver-white hair and tied it so it hung in a long ponytail.

Roland instantly appeared at his leader's side. His transition was more or less complete. His face was back to the dark and angular humanoid shape. Feathers were disappearing from his shoulders and arms like fog off a windshield.

"He is resting comfortably, Hamza," Neima said.

The leader nodded. "I will see him now. Roland, to me."

"Wait!" She stepped in front of the two men. "I'm afraid Roland needs to go directly to the lab to see the doctor."

Roland raised a very thick, black eyebrow but remained silent.

"What is this absurdity?" Hamza roared.

Neima detected a bit of lion in his yelling. He was communing. That made him unpredictable. For the first time, she wished Erol were present. The amiable Nocturne had an enviable talent way of keeping things calm.

"Father," Yasmin said, bowing her head. "There has been much progress in studying the virus—"

"And yet my son falls victim!"

Yasmin cowered. Neima could scratch the man's eyes out for his continued abuse of his only daughter. "We think Roland may unknowingly be a carrier."

Roland smirked. "I'm fine."

"You need to be examined," Yasmin said, standing tall with her shoulders back. Her strong dislike for the man overpowered any fear or reverence for her father.

"That Vulgari is not touching me," Roland growled.

"I promise I won't hurt you," Karl said, coming to stand next to Yasmin.

Perfect timing. The doctor was becoming as stealthy as Yasmin. Perhaps the Mutare had worn off on the baby human? The two of them looked very comfortable together. Karl certainly looked more confident. His back was straighter, and his glasses were perched correctly on his nose. However, the new relationship did nothing to improve his terrible bedside manner.

Roland huffed and shook his immense shoulders "I said you're not touching me."

"I don't have to touch you," Karl said.

Cheeky of the doctor not to act like Roland couldn't tear him limb from limb. Cheeky and stupid.

Karl stood tall in front of Roland, his eyes meeting his mouth. "Can you say my name?"