That was all he needed to hear before launching himself against the heavy ironwood door. It was a tough barrier, designed for privacy, but in his panic for his mate, he momentarily forgot about everyone else and reached out to his mother for the spare keys. By the time she arrived, the rest of his family had followed her, curiosity getting the better of them. "Son, what's going on?" she asked, but he didn't respond. He grabbed the keys and finally opened the door.
As he rushed inside, he found her lying motionless on the floor. Her mother stifled a scream and tried to move closer, but the king was in no mood to let anyone near his mate, not even her mother. His eyes glowed that fierce red, ringed with gold. "Do not touch my mate." Silos swiftly pulled Maeve aside as the woman's gaze fixated on her unresponsive daughter. "I need everyone out of the room. I don't want her overwhelmed by your presence when she wakes up." They exchanged uneasy glances. "But the queen?" someone ventured. With a cold glance, he set the door ablaze with a flick of his wrist, one of the elements at his command. They quickly left, and he gently laid her on the bed.
Before he closed his eyes to summon the priestess. "To what do I owe the pleasure, my king?" she asked, radiating an ageless beauty far beyond the rest. "Get to work. I want her to wake up—now." Without hesitation, she rushed to Liora, taking her hands gently. Drakon and Malzahar unleashed a protective growl. "If I can't touch her, she won't get the help she needs," the priestess murmured, her eyes closing in concentration.
Her expression turned troubled, and suddenly, she stepped back from Liora. "What? This can't be," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't access her thoughts; it's total darkness. As the highest priestess, I've never encountered this before." Malzahar stood there, equally perplexed. "Unless the prophecy holds, that a special child will be born on a special day, one that is extraordinary—a descendant of a race that vanished 300000 years ago. Veiled from all, even from gods. That is your mate, the mate of a formidable Lycan king." She knelt beside Liora's bed, bowing in apology.
Malzahar settled next to Liora, holding her hands. He closed his eyes, beginning to chant softly. When he opened them, frustration bubbled over. He stood and threw objects around the room in anger. "Given your reaction, I take it you've uncovered what happened?" Malzahar was heaving with rage. "Who dared to attack my mate, my queen, while I wasn't looking?" A groan from the bed snagged his attention, and he rushed to her side. Her eyes remained shut, but she seemed to be battling something in her dreams. "Hey, baby, come on. You've given me enough trouble for now."
She awoke with a start, releasing a terrified scream. "Shh, I'm right here. You're safe," Malzahar soothed, cradling her in his lap as she clutched his shirt tightly. "There was so much blood," she sobbed into his chest, trembling with horror. "It was terrible, so bloody." "It's alright, mi vida, just breathe with me." He whispered loving words into her hair, noticing her swollen eyes and the sticky strands of amber hair clinging to her face. "I understand, mi vida. You're worrying me, and it's not good for you or the baby." He brushed her hair back gently and kissed her forehead. "That's it, breathe for me."
She nodded and took a shaky breath. The priestess brought a glass of water from the nightstand and handed it to her. Liora accepted it gratefully, but then paused, her gaze darting back to the priestess. "You—you were there; I saw you." The priestess sighed and nodded. Suddenly, Liora leapt to her feet, grasping the priestess's hands. "What happened? You have to tell me. Why was it like that?" The priestess offered a sad smile and cupped her cheeks with comforting hands. "Not now, you're not ready to know."
Liora shook her head vehemently. "No, you don't understand, I need to know about—" But the words caught in her throat as she doubled over, clutching her abdomen in pain. "Stop it; you're stressing yourself. You need rest," the priestess urged gently, guiding her back to bed. "But I have to know." The priestess placed her hands on Liora's head and chanted softly, instantly sending her into a deep slumber. "What's happening?" Malzahar asked, adjusting Liora into a more comfortable position. "It ties back to the incident that occurred 300000 years ago..."