"What the fuck have you done, Deroki?!"
Marisel's voice sliced through the quiet hum of the infirmary as she stormed in, her fury crackling in the air like a brewing storm. Her steps were fast and purposeful, her dark trail of her dress billowing behind her as she closed in on him. Her sharp eyes burned with a mixture of anger and worry, flickered between him and the still form lying motionless on the bed.
"Keep your voice low, Mari. He's sleeping," Deroki gritted out, his gaze flickering toward Gabe's pale face.
Marisel's eyes, however, were wild with uncontained fury. "He's not just 'sleeping,' Deroki. He's barely breathing! He's close to fucking dead!" She hissed, her voice lowering but losing none of its venom.
Without hesitation, she moved past Deroki, her fingers ghosting over Gabe's face. The touch was featherlight, barely there, but enough to make Deroki's jaw clench. A strange sensation, something sharp and unwelcome, settled deep in his chest as he watched her. Jealousy. It was irrational, he knew. Marisel had been the only one truly watching over Gabe long before he had entered his life. And yet, the urge to pull her hand away, to claim ownership over this moment, gnawed at him.
"How did this happen?" she finally asked, her voice quieter now, but no less demanding.
Deroki exhaled, his fingers tightening into fists at his sides. "It was one of the Truth Bearers."
Marisel stiffened. "One of them tried to assassinate you..."
"Again," Deroki finished for her, meeting her gaze evenly.
A tense silence hung between them. Marisel inhaled sharply. "And Gabe?"
"He got in the way. He threw himself in front of the dagger." His voice was steady, not because he didn't feel anything but because he was good at hiding. "The wound was deep. He lost a lot of blood, but he's out of immediate danger."
"I told you to stay away from him, didn't I? See what happened?"
Marisel turned back to Gabe, her expression softening as she brushed his damp hair away from his forehead. "Zyren could heal him," she murmured to herself, the name slipping from her lips like a plea.
Deroki let out a bitter laugh. His brother would be the last one he would go to if he ever needed help. "You think Zyren would lift a finger to heal him if he realized who he was?"
Marisel's jaw clenched. "All thanks to you," she spat.
Deroki met her glare without flinching. "I didn't put him in danger. He did that himself."
Marisel scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep at night. It's not the first time he is taking blunt of your actions."
Deroki was silent. He didn't deny it, because there was nothing to deny.
Marisel exhaled sharply. "Sometimes, I wish they'd just succeed."
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Deroki's lips, dark and humorless. "Trust me, sister, I wish for the same. But we both know that's never going to happen."
Marisel snapped her head toward him, eyes flashing. "What are we going to do now?"
"Nothing," Deroki said, shrugging his shoulder. "We wait for him to wake up."
Marisel scoffed. "This would be so much easier if you weren't on such terrible terms with Zyren."
Deroki smirked, but there was no real amusement in his eyes. "If I was on good terms with Zyren or any of the gods, we wouldn't be here in the first place. He wouldn't be here."
Marisel let out a quiet huff, rubbing her temples.
A weak voice interrupted her.
"Marisel..."
Both of them snapped toward the bed. Gabe's eyelids fluttered weakly, his face pale, his breathing shallow but steady. His lips barely moved, but the sound of his voice, hoarse, fragile, sent a strange sort of relief rushing through Deroki's chest.
Marisel gasped, immediately grasping his palm between her own. "Gabe, thank the gods. How are you feeling, dear?"
Gabe's eyelids cracked open just enough to see her. "Where... were you?"
Marisel hesitated, her grip tightening. A shadow passed over her face, a flicker of something almost like guilt. "I had some work overseas," she said carefully.
Gabe blinked slowly, exhaustion clouding his gaze. "I wondered... but I didn't know who to ask." His voice cracked, dry. "So much happened when you were gone."
Marisel exhaled, squeezing his hand. "I know," she murmured. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. And this." She glanced at his bandaged shoulder, her expression pained.
Gabe offered the smallest, faintest smile. "It's okay. I think I'm fine now."
Marisel let out a breathless laugh. "You are," she agreed. "Do you want me to get you something? Water? Juice?"
"Water would be good," Gabe murmured, his voice hoarse.
Before Marisel could even turn to fetch it, Deroki was already at his side, a glass of water in hand. Without a word, he slipped an arm behind Gabe's back, supporting him as he gently brought the glass to his lips.
"Drink up," he ordered, his tone softer than usual, yet firm.
Gabe's eyes widened slightly, as if startled. He hesitated for just a moment before lowering his gaze, almost shyly, and pressing his lips to the rim of the glass. As he drank in slow, measured sips, his delicate throat bobbed, and for a fleeting moment, Deroki found himself unable to look away.
When Gabe finished, he licked the last droplets from his lips, then cleared his throat. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, his voice quieter than before.
Deroki set the glass aside, taking a step back. "The dagger barely missed your heart, Gabe," he stated, his tone unreadable. "What were you thinking?"
Gabe flushed under his gaze. "I wasn't thinking," he admitted. "It was instinctual."
Deroki felt a muscle ticked in his jaw. He exhaled sharply before leveling a hard stare at Gabe. "Never, and I repeat, never, put yourself in danger for another person. Especially for me. It is not worth it. Do you understand?"
There was a long pause before Gabe nodded, but Deroki could tell the answer was hollow. The man had no selfishness in him. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to put himself first.
Deroki sighed in frustration. "I'll call the healer."
He motioned for the attending nurse to fetch the healer, and within minutes, the older man arrived, his robes swishing as he strode in. He gave Gabe a quick but thorough examination, checking his pulse, inspecting the wound, and murmuring a few questions to Gabe. Finally, he straightened and turned to Deroki.
"He is stable, Your Majesty. However, he will need to remain in the infirmary for a few days so I can monitor his recovery."
"Take as much time as needed," Deroki said without hesitation. "Make sure he is treated like royalty while he is here."
The healer bowed. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
"Can he eat something?" Deroki asked next.
The healer nodded. "Yes, but nothing too heavy for now. I will have a nurse bring him some soup, and I will prepare a meal plan for his recovery."
Once the healer left, Marisel took a seat on the edge of Gabe's bed. Deroki swallowed down the urge to protest. She had been traveling, and her clothes had undoubtedly been through gods-knew-what, yet she sat there without a care. He wanted to tell her to at least change first, but he knew better than to argue with her right now, especially when Gabe was clearly enjoying her presence.
The two of them fell into easy conversation, Marisel leaning in slightly as Gabe recounted everything that had happened during her absence. His words spilled out in full detail, and Deroki listened intently, enjoying this chatty side of Gabe.
Then, Marisel's expression darkened, her lips twisting into a scowl. "Wait... you didn't even sleep with that asshole Alpha, and yet they still accused you of causing his death?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
Gabe's eyes flickered nervously toward Deroki, who stood at a distance, watching, as if shy Deroki heard that.
It was news to Deroki that Gabe hadn't slept with the Alpha. So the man had truly died in vain. Not that it mattered, anyone who had the intention of laying a hand on Gabe would meet the same fate. He didn't regret killing the Alpha for even a second.
Deroki remained silent, listening in as Gabe recounted to Marisel how the Alpha guards and soldiers had hoarded food from the common dining hall, leaving him with almost nothing to eat for the past seven days. Seven days. A week of starvation, while Gabe worked tirelessly in the maid services.
Deroki's hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palm as he imagined it, Gabe, pale and weak, working in the castle on an empty stomach, struggling to stay on his feet. Worse, cleaning the food scraps from the floors of the royal chambers, from his chamber, forced to throw away meals that could have kept him from starving. The thought made Deroki's chest tighten painfully. He hated that it affected him this way, hated that Gabe's suffering twisted something inside him, but, at the same time, it wasn't surprising. Not when it came to him.
The sharp edge of his rage hadn't even dulled when the nurse arrived, carrying a bowl of steaming soup. Before she could step forward, Deroki moved, snatching the bowl from her hands.
"Step aside," he ordered to Marisel who was blocking his way.
Then, his gaze landed on Marisel when she glared at him. "Let me feed him," he said, softly this time.
Marisel's eyes narrowed, but after a long pause, she scoffed and moved back, crossing her arms. "By all means, Your Majesty."
Deroki stood onto the edge of the bed, ignoring the way Gabe tensed slightly at the close proximity. He stirred the spoon in the rich broth, scooping up a piece of tender chicken before lifting it toward Gabe's lips.
"You didn't have to..." Gabe started, voice hesitant.
"Shh." Deroki cut him off with a quiet but firm command.
Gabe hesitated only for a second before parting his lips, accepting the spoonful. The sight of him eating, after going hungry for days, filled Deroki with an unexpected sense of satisfaction. It was a foreign feeling, one that tugged at something deep in his chest, something he had buried for centuries.
As he continued to feed Gabe, he clenched his jaw, fighting against the warmth creeping through him. Don't feel anything. He repeated the words in his head like a mantra, but it was useless.
It had never worked against Gabe.