Аманда Хокинг - Ascend

“I need the Princess,” he said, and as soon as I heard his voice, a shiver shot through me.

“Loki?” I gasped.

“Princess?” Loki lifted his head. He smiled crookedly, but it didn’t have his usual bravado. His caramel eyes were tired and pained, and he had a fading bruise on his cheek.

“What happened to you?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I apologize for the intrusion, Princess,” he said, his smile already fading. “And as much as I’d like to say that I’m here for pleasure, I…” He swallowed something back, and his hands gripped tighter onto the doorframe.

“Are you alright?” I asked, pushing past Duncan.

“I…” Loki started to speak, but his knees gave out. He pitched forward, and I rushed to catch him. He fell into my arms, and I lowered him to the ground.

“Loki?” I brushed the hair back from his eyes, and they fluttered open.

“Princess.” He smiled up at me, but it was weak. “If I’d known that this is what it would take to get you to hold me, I would’ve collapsed a long time ago.”

“What is going on, Loki?” I asked gently. If he hadn’t been so obviously distressed, I would’ve swatted him for that comment, but he grimaced in pain when I touched his face.

“Amnesty,” he said thickly, and his eyes closed. “I need amnesty, Princess.” His head tilted to the side, and his body relaxed. He’d passed out.

Tove and Duncan had carried Loki up to the servants’ quarters on the second floor. Willa went back to help Matt so he wouldn’t worry, and I sent Duncan to get Thomas because I had no idea what we should do with Loki. He was unconscious, so I couldn’t ask him what happened.

“Are you going to give him amnesty?” Tove asked. He stood next to me with his arms folded over his chest, staring down at Loki.

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “It depends on what he says.” I glanced over at Tove. “Why? Do you think I should?”

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “But I will support any decision you make.”

“Thank you,” I said, but I hadn’t expected any different from him. “Can you see if there’s a doctor that will look at him?”

“You don’t want me to get my mother?” Tove asked. His mother was a healer, meaning she could put her hands on someone and heal almost any wound they might have.

“No. She would never heal a Vittra. Besides, I don’t want anyone to know that Loki is here. Not yet,” I said. “I need an actual doctor. There is a mänks doctor in town, isn’t there?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll get him.” He turned to leave but paused at the door. “You’ll be okay with him?”

“Yes, of course,” I smiled.

Tove nodded, then left me alone with Loki. I took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to do. Loki lay on his back, his light hair cascading across his forehead. Somehow he was even more attractive asleep than he was awake.

He hadn’t stirred at all when they’d carried him up, and Duncan had jostled and nearly dropped him many times. Loki had always dressed well, and while his clothes looked like they had once been nice, they were little more than rags now.

I sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and touched a hole in his shirt. The skin underneath was discolored and swollen.

Tentatively, I lifted his shirt, and when Loki didn’t stir, I pushed it up more.

I felt strange and almost perverse undressing him, but I wanted to check and make sure there weren’t obvious contusions. If he were seriously injured, like with broken ribs poking out of his skin, I would summon Aurora and make her heal him, whether she wanted to or not. I wouldn’t let Loki die because she was prejudiced.

After I pulled his shirt over his head, I got my first good look at him, and my breath caught in my throat. Under ordinary circumstances, I’m sure his physique would be stunning, but that’s not what shocked me. His torso was covered with bruises, and his sides had long, thin scars on them.

They wrapped around, so I lifted him a bit, and his back was covered with them. They crisscrossed all over his skin, some of them older, but most of them appeared red and fresh.

Tears stung my eyes, and I put my hand to my mouth. I’d never seen Loki shirtless before, but he even had scars on his forearms, and they weren’t there before. This had all happened since I saw him last.

Worse still, Loki had Vittra blood. Physically, he was incredibly strong, which is how he’d pounded at the door so hard it shook the front hall. That also meant he healed better than most. For him to look this terrible, somebody really had to beat the hell out of him, over and over again, so he wouldn’t have time to heal.

A jagged scar stretched across his chest, as if someone had tried to stab him, and it reminded me of my own scar that ran along my stomach. My host mother had tried to kill me when I was a child, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

I touched Loki’s chest, running my fingers over the bumps of his scar. I don’t know why exactly, but I felt compelled to, as if the scar made us kindred spirits.

“You just couldn’t wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?”

Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in place.

“No, I - I was checking for wounds,” I stumbled and wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m sure.” He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. “What’s that?” He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald encrusted oval on my finger.

“Is that a wedding ring?”

“No, engagement.” I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. “I’m not married yet.”

“I’m not too late, then,” he smiled and settled back in the bed.

“Too late for what?” I asked.

“To stop you, of course.” Still smiling, he closed his eyes.

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, failing to point out how near we were to my nuptials.

“I told you why I’m here,” Loki said.

“What happened to you, Loki?” I asked, my voice growing thick when I thought about what he had to have gone through to get all those marks and bruises.

“Are you crying, Princess?” Loki asked and opened his eyes.

“No, I’m not crying.” I wasn’t, but my eyes were moist.

“Don’t cry.” He tried to sit up, but he winced when he lifted his head, so I put my hand gently on his chest to keep him down.

“You need to rest,” I said.

“I will be fine.” He put his hand over mine again, and I let him.

“Eventually.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” I asked. “Why do you need amnesty?”

“Remember when we were in the garden?” Loki asked.

Of course I remembered. Loki had snuck in over the wall and asked me to run away with him. I had declined, but he’d stolen a kiss before he left, a rather nice kiss. My cheeks reddened slightly at the memory, and that made Loki smile wider.

“I see you do,” he grinned.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

“That doesn’t,” Loki said, referring to the kiss. “I meant when I told you that the King hates me. He really does, Princess.” His eyes went dark for a minute.

“The Vittra King did this to you?” I asked, and my stomach tightened. “You mean Oren? My father?”

“Don’t worry about it now,” he said, trying to calm the anger inside me. “I’ll be fine.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why does the King hate you? Why did he do this to you?”

“Princess, please.” He closed his eyes. “I’m exhausted. I barely made it here. Can we have this conversation when I’m feeling a bit better? Say, in a month or two?”