He could feel the life draining from her. In all his endless years as a Dragon King, there was only one other time he had felt so utterly helpless.
“He’s fucking gone!” Thorn bellowed. “I’m going to kill him!”
Warrick heard Thorn, but he couldn’t respond. He was too desolate, too wrecked to do more than hold Darcy. He hadn’t told her she was his mate, hadn’t told her how much he cared for her—how much he loved her.
Why had he been so against taking a mate? She could’ve been under his protection this entire time. Had he taken her as his mate, Ulrik couldn’t have hurt her. She wouldn’t be bleeding out in his arms.
“Move!” said a female voice who shoved at Warrick’s shoulder.
He looked up and saw the faces, but it took a moment for them to register. He blinked at the Druids.
“You need to step aside,” Aisley said from beside him. “We can help Darcy.”
He looked down at Darcy and tightened his grip. “You’ll have to do it with me holding her. I’m no’ releasing her.”
Warrick vaguely realized the Druids circled around him and joined hands. They began to chant, their magic filling the air. Warrick felt their magic touch him before shifting to Darcy.
He opened the tear in her shirt to look at the wound and saw it begin to heal. Hope flourished inside him. This could work. The Druids could save her.
He could have a second chance.
No sooner had that thought gone through his mind than the wound opened back up and blood flowed quicker. Warrick covered the wound with his hand and tried to stop the flow of blood.
He dropped his forehead against Darcy’s, because he knew he was losing her. He had been so against wanting a mate that fate was taking her from him before he ever had her.
A large hand fell softly on his shoulder.
Warrick looked up to see Con. “Get away from her. Ulrik did what you were going to.”
Con didn’t say a word. He merely squatted beside them and put a hand on Darcy as his eyes closed. His face contorted for a moment. Then he opened his eyes and stood. “Dragon magic was used,” he said.
Warrick looked from Con down to Darcy. He lifted his hand to see that the wound was closed with just a small pale scar to show what had happened.
Darcy took a deep breath, but she didn’t open her eyes. Warrick’s throat clogged with emotion. He lifted her in his arms and stood. That’s when he saw not just the Warriors and Druids, but the Dragon Kings as well.
Kellan gave him a nod, as did Guy and Tristan. Warrick held Darcy closer and started toward the cottage. He knew there were those who followed him, but he didn’t care. He could handle whatever came now that Darcy still lived.
He shouldered his way into the cottage and lay her on the sofa before he covered her with a blanket. Then he turned and faced the others.
Warrick’s gaze landed on Con first before moving to Thorn, Kellan, and Rhys. “Why did you save her?” Warrick demanded of Con.
“Because I saw Ulrik plunge the blade into her.” Con’s black eyes glanced at Darcy, his lips flattening for a moment. “She was right. I let my hatred cloud my judgment.”
“I doona like that she unbound Ulrik’s magic, but that’s all she did. She didna curse me or shoot Lily. That was all Ulrik’s doing,” Rhys said.
Kellan nodded in agreement. “Denae reminded me that she was accused as well and had no involvement. She keeps telling that a person is innocent until proven guilty.”
“Thank you,” Warrick said to them. “Though it might go a long way if you tell Darcy all of this yourselves.”
Rhys smiled. “We’ll do better than that. Bring her back to the manor when she’s ready.”
The three filed out of the cottage, leaving Thorn. Thorn looked at Darcy. “You’re verra lucky, War. You got a second chance to set things right. Darcy is your mate. If you let her go this time, you may no’ get another chance.”
“I know. I doona plan to rest until she’s mine.”
Thorn looked at him and winked. “I knew you’d come around.”
As soon as Thorn left, Warrick looked about the cottage. “I’ve got one shot to convince her to be mine. It’s got to be perfect.”
*
Darcy woke to the sound of thunder and rain hitting glass. She opened her eyes to see the fire roaring. She sat up, the blanket falling from her as she looked around the cottage.
Wait. What was she doing in the cottage? The last thing she remembered was talking to Ulrik and then the knife. Darcy looked down to see the dried blood and the tear in her shirt. She lifted her shirt, but there was no wound.
A piece of paper floated to the ground from the arm of the sofa. Darcy bent and opened it, reading aloud. “‘Your bath is waiting.’”
Darcy rose and walked around the sofa to the hallway. She found the bathroom and the huge oval copper pedestal tub sitting under a window.
Steam rose from the water. Darcy glanced around, but still didn’t see anyone. She walked to the tub while removing her clothes. As she neared, she saw the rose petals floating in the water.