Bedded by the Headmaster

Ch40: His Volunteers

Arken

Susie was safe and sound asleep in his bed.

Arken had burst into the bathroom the instant he'd heard her shout his name. He was too late to stop her falling, but he'd thrown himself forward, sliding across the tiles and managing to catch her head protectively before it hit the ground.

She'd lost consciousness, and it had made the task of carrying her back to bed easier.

After tucking her in, he remained by her bedside, watching her sleep. Trying to formulate all the things he needed to tell her when she woke. He hoped she would listen. It would have been far easier to let her hate him forever.

Nathaniel had made him promise to tell Susie about the blood magic.

"Of course I will," Arken had replied.

"Do it when she wakes," Nathaniel insisted.

"Are you still here?" he'd asked irritably, using one of Nathaniel's favourite lines back on him.

His friend had given him a pointed look before leaving. Off to check on Kira.

The second sleeping draught was untouched on the bedside table. She looked peaceful, her head nestled against the pillow, her ears relaxed. She was breathing softly.

Arken was satisfied to stand by her bedside, keeping watch until she woke. The hours passed like that, with his legs growing increasingly tired.

He would endure. It was nothing compared to what she'd experienced. He couldn't begin to imagine...

And it was all his fault.

Susie had been hurt because of him. And he'd been able to do next to nothing to help her.

His chest ached with regret. He'd been inconsolable with grief and blinded by rage after Henrikk left. He'd tried to go after Henrikk, but Nathaniel had physically held him back. By the time Arken had calmed enough that he no longer required restraining, Nathaniel had an ugly black eye and a torn shirt where Arken had bitten his shoulder.

"You didn't have to bite me," Nathaniel had scowled as Arken dropped to his knees beside Susie's limp form. "And we should really do something about Susanna...assuming she's still alive."

That comment had earned Nathaniel another vicious snarl from Arken.

"Obviously, we'll devise a solution that involves keeping her alive," Nathaniel had amended.

"Your father isn't here anymore, you needn't make callous remarks," Arken had muttered, returning his attention to Susie.

Alarm and guilt filled him as he'd looked over her. There were bruises and cuts all over her body, and the base of her tail was at an odd angle to the gentle curve of her spine. He hoped with every fibre of his being that it wasn't broken. That her spine wasn't permanently damaged.

The healer he'd brought in seemed confident that it was just sprained, but had had insisted she lie supine during recovery. Arken had carved a dip into the mattress so there wouldn't be pressure on her tail from lying on it.

Now, he stood watch, waiting for her to wake. Wishing that things had played out differently.

"Might be worth burying this one—I doubt she'll walk again."

That was the last thing Henrikk said before leaving. It had incited an inferno of fury within Arken, and he'd seen nothing but red for several minutes as he tried to throw Nathaniel off him and charge after the King.

He hadn't allowed himself to feel blind rage like that in a very long time. He hadn't even felt it after Clara's death. Only denial, grief, and eventually acceptance.