A Court of Stars and Memories

69. Tender Care

    Lysander soon landed in the courtyard of his home and set Mitsi down gently, but kept a supportive arm around her waist. She didn't comment on their location and he hoped that meant she didn't mind.

    He'd considered taking her back to his parents' house, but that would mean having to deal with her siblings and his mother, and the mere thought of it was enough to have his instincts raging all over again.

    Lysander raised narrow eyes to the sky as his wards alerted him to his father's presence, but Azriel didn't approach them. He landed on the roof of the veranda and vanished into the shadow of a cupola.

    Lysander clenched his jaw but forced his attention back to Mitsi as he led her inside. She swiped a hand across her eyes and flinched when her knuckles touched her cheek. The makings of a bruise had begun to form where her father had slapped her.

    Mitsi drew a shuddering breath and mounted the stairs slowly. Lysander followed close behind, his hand not straying far from her back. "I suppose I'll need to explain what happened to Rhysand," Mitsi mumbled when they reached the second floor. "It...it was my fault. I asked Azriel to take me and he didn't want to, but I wouldn't take no for an answer."

    "Don't worry about that right now," Lysander replied. He opened his bedroom door and they stepped inside.

    "But I don't want your father to get in trouble on my behalf," Mitsi protested.

    "He won't. Rhys might be upset but he'll understand. Nothing will happen to Dad and nothing will happen to you." He took Mitsi's hands in his own and kissed her knuckles, then flipped her palms up. Lysander studied her injured hand carefully. "I'll need to clean this before it closes, unless you want me to send for a healer."

    Mitsi shook her head. "No. I don't want to see anyone else right now."

    Lysander nodded, swallowing hard. "Good, because I'm not sure I could force myself to let anyone else near you right now." He leaned down and peered at her cheek. Anger twisted his gut, but a soothing caress crossed the Bond. "How badly does it hurt?"

    "Not bad."

    Lysander frowned, glancing up at her. "I saw you wince earlier, and it's already gone from a red mark to a bruise."

    "It's not bad," Mitsi insisted. "It hurts but..."

    "Does it hurt to move your jaw?" He interrupted. Mitsi lowered her gaze and nodded. Lysander released a heavy breath and forced himself to relax his own jaw. He wasn't sure how his teeth hadn't cracked yet, given how hard he'd been grinding them. Mitsi didn't protest when he guided her into the bathroom.

    He left her in the doorway while he crouched and rummaged through a cabinet until he found the supplies he needed. Lysander straightened and set them on the counter, then turned to Mitsi. She was staring at her reflection with wide eyes. Her hands trembled violently at her sides.

    "Mitsi?" He took a step towards her.

    She raised shaking fingers to her lips, touching the crusted blood staining them. Her emotions flooded the Bond, threatening to overwhelm them both. Lysander ducked in front of her and caught her wrists with his hands.

    "Look at me, Owl," he urged. "Look at me." Mitsi's gaze found his but already, her breath came in short heaving gasps and her features were pinched by panic and disgust. "Keep your eyes on me," Lysander instructed.

    He reached behind himself and snagged a washcloth off the counter. Deftly, he switched the faucet on and wet the cloth, keeping his gaze on Mitsi as much as possible. She was obediently watching him, though she still looked on the verge of being sick.