The Beastkeeper's Bride

33: A Dragon's Incentive

33: A Dragon's Incentive

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You need to perform the procedure."

Millie started from where she had set down the tray of food atop the service near to his bedside, the sound of his soft voice startling her having believed he was yet again unconscious and resting once more. "Blayne," she murmured quickly, coming to his side and sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress.

Brushing her fingertips over his forehead, she gently coaxed the silken strands of his hair from his feverish flesh, noting the strain across his handsome face as he studied her solemnly.

"You should perform the procedure, Millie," he said again. She frowned slightly and, mindful of his injured side, moved tentatively over him to place a kiss upon his cheek.

The moments he was coherent had increased since the day prior, though the pain he was in was evident and concerning. His breath was uneven and he winced in discomfort often.

"Think not of this," she told him firmly. "You should be resting, conserving your strength."

"I mean," Blayne said emphatically, "that you need to do it. I do not desire another to perform the procedure, I do not trust anyone but you."

Millie shook her head, her heart squeezing with each painful throb. Not for the first time, she longed for their broken connection, remiss at not being able to sense his mind's touch and his emotions. If she could, she would have availed of the opportunity to sense him, to ease him with her own thoughts. The severance almost felt like a physical ache, as if a part of her had been cut from him, torn and shredded like nerves and flesh, but it wasn't and the only intrinsic pull she had left was the mild burn and pulsation of the band about her forearm.

Of Bellarina and Grover, there had been no whispering or traces of their presence about London. Millie had mind to locate them and demand penance for their role in her struggles, but truthfully the moments she spent connected with Blayne in the manner they had been were endeared to her. For now, the curious pair were of no import, though later- when the mess of Ravensfield was put to rest and Theo's incarceration was ensured- she would find them, if they remained in the same derelict building of London's eastern slums.

"I have only witnessed it being performed once before. It would be foolish for me to even attempt it, Blayne. Doctor Samuel-"

He found her hand and grasped her fingers, hard. "I do not care- if it is to be done, then you must do it. Promise me."

She hesitated imperceptibly before inclining her head slightly in acquiescence. As it was, she would deny him nothing. The thought of performing the invasive procedure caused her skin to prickle with nerves, yet she knew that if it came to that she would do as he wished- with Doctor Samuel presiding over.

There was still time yet and she compelled her troubled mind to take comfort at the prospect that there was yet hours before the final decision need be made. For now, Blayne was alive- bruised and wounded and still healing from previous injuries, but alive. And his strength was a formidable thing.

"I have faith that Rogane will return soon with news of a healer," she murmured and made to move from the bed to procure the tray of food she had brought in for him.

Blayne shook his head, his tail snaking out from under the covers and stalling her movements by wrapping about her calves. "I am not hungry. I have one injured side and desire the company of my wife at it."

"I do not want to cause you further harm-"

With a sharp tug, he pulled her onto the mattress and she was forced to twist her body to accommodate him. Gently, Millie eased herself along his length and settled against the bulk of his shoulder. His warmth immediately suffused her and the contact of his flesh seemed to soothed her unease. The embrace made her yearn with longing, the ardency of her love for him making her breath stutter from her lips as his arm came about her shoulders. He turned his head into her and softly nuzzled her forehead with his lips, the grain of his jaw brushing against her skin.