Abyss - Book Five of the Alpha Series - MxM

Chapter 21

In silence, I stew on the behavior of men as Helen enters the room, carrying a dish of water and a rag to begin cleaning up the blood. Unfortunately, we lack an infirmary at this castle, but Esmeralda informs me they do have a local doctor who was more than willing to rush over at the request of the King. 

Between Helen and Ana, we have managed to stabilize the grumbling males, but I feel the reluctance of the surgeon as he steps in and realize his patients are not royalty but a bounty hunter and a couple of lycans, as well as one of nobel blood who had been caught in the crossfire of bickering.

Despite my threats of violence, no one seems to want to talk about what happened, so I'm left to my thoughts while I try to convince myself the warlord's perfect nose was only bruised rather than truly broken. 

His arctic eyes refuse to meet mine, and I allow him to be embarrassed should that be the emotion he'd chosen to land on. 

Of all the people who chose to listen to my every word, my own men refused to do me the decency of a response. It was disheartening more than anything, wounding me on a personal level. Had I not earned their respect enough to do me the kindess of an explaination? Would I have to cut a finger off of every one of them to prove I was serious?

But, if I were honest with myself, I knew it was Verando who kept them silent.

I expected more from him, from all of them. To fight among ourselves was worse than a failure; it was a weakness, and everyone had seen it.

To my disappointment, the surgeon admits that he's never worked on a lycan before. I struggle to conjure up a reason why a lycan bloodline would matter in the case of a broken nose and broken ribs, how it would affect a simple 'yes' or 'no' on the matter of injuries and contusions. 

It feels like closeted racism more than a valid excuse, as if he were hoping I might excuse him from caring for my reformed slaves if he played the fool. 

"I'm sorry, I figured a body was a body. Or are you motivated by reasons more than anatomy?" I demand, making the man flinch as he looks back toward my warlord, who's scowl reminds me that I have an unwilling patient. "They don't bite." I snap, thumping the lycan's foot with my own.

"Hardly men..." The surgeon shakes his head, fluffing his coat as he clears his throat. "I'm afraid you'll just have to find me incompetent, Your Grace."

"Right," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. Gesturing to the guard, they come over quickly, surrounding the surgeon. "Return him to his home, he's reminded me that I have a new decree to manufacture. Best to get with the times, doctor, you might soon find your racism illegal and cause for penalty."

They take him before he can speak, and I turn to Tonic, who seems to have fared the best out of the bunch, "Care to explain?" I demand. 

The young gray-haired man looks reluctant. "Explain what... exactly." He attempts, and I narrow my eyes. He flinches as Helen carefully tapes two of his fingers together. Useless as it is, it would at least keep the bones straight for the next few hours, until they mended.

 "Well, are you wanting to know what we were doing before or after the.. altercation?"

My patience is threatening to run out altogether. "Start from the beginning." I attempt.

"Don't tell him anything, Tonic," Verando retorts firmly, covering his nose with the chilled rag. I wheel around at him, trying to convince myself that I somehow misheard him.

"You were gone all night, and then this? What are you possibly hiding from me, of all people?"  I ignored the looks of confusion from the staff; he was my guard, so it would make sense that I would note his absence.