Page 81 of Fire to the Stars

“I will. Thank you.” I swallow a wave of emotion.

“Send a dove if you need anything…or anyone.”

Anyone.A new slayer. An awful last resort, but a responsible one. So I nod.

Lyle waves over his shoulder as he leaves the room.

Dr. Castille continues. “I’ll have a nurse supply you with medications and fresh bandages. He’ll require help changing them. That shoulder must remain immobile or he’ll risk permanent muscle damage.” He pulls the blankets back over Abel. “Assuming no complications, it should take three weeks to heal. Then he’ll need careful exercise to restore range of motion.”

Threeweeks? That cuts too close to the next Ignition.

“What about next month’s Ignition? He has another dragon to slay. When can he return to work?”

He frowns. “Mademoiselle, this can’t be rushed. He must follow the timeline if he wants to slay dragons again.”

He doesn’twantto. In a morbid way, a permanent injury would be a gift. A fair excuse to abandon his duty.

“It will likely be frustrating for him,” he adds. “Make sure he doesn’t rush. Have him go on walks for circulation and to ensure his other muscles remain active. No heavy lifting. That includes his equipment.” He gestures to Abel’s weapons piled in the room’s corner.

“I can carry them.”

“Good. If all goes well, he should only miss one Ignition. Justtake your time.”

I manage a nod. I have enough sleep powder for two more Ignitions.

Once Dr.Castille leaves, I watch Abel for hours. My stomach rumbles. I ignore it. Carefully, I lay a sleeping Lucy at the foot of the bed, then tug the blankets closer to Abel’s chin. I don’trealize I’m smoothing his hair until it’s tame. I snatch my hand back and curl my fingers into my skirt.

It’s all right. I can tend to him until he’s ready to slay me.

Until then, he doesn’t need to know anything.

Something brushes my hair from my forehead. Stray ends unstick from my parted lips. I lift my head from the hospital bed and blink sleep from my eyes. Abel’s hand comes into focus in front of my face.

“Your hair was stuck to your drool,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep.

Feeling the crust on my chin brings me wide-awake. I sit up, rub it off, then clear my throat. “Pardon me for not looking my best after saving your life.Again.”

“About that—”

“I remained in the fire cellar until the dragon was slain. I kept my promise.”

He opens his mouth to argue; then his tired eyes widen as he attempts to push upright. “Madame Afi—”

“Rest.” I press a gentle hand to his chest. “She’s still missing, but the gendarmes managed an arrest. Lyle went to the marshal to discuss their next steps.”

He sinks back into the pillow. “I should’ve done something differently,” he rasps. “Played dead sooner.”

“This isn’t your failure to carry. The Gendarmerie were supposed to protectyou.”

He stares at the ceiling. “I don’t understand how the assassins bypassed the perimeter undetected.”

“Who knows? But I had a hunch that they might. That’s why I went to check on you.”

He huffs a laugh. “Is it four times now you’ve saved my life?”

“I would like a statue built in my honor.”

His gaze lowers to my hands in my lap. I stop wringing them—I didn’t even realize I was doing it.