-

His eyes cracked open to the whispering at the door. The voices soared, and he reached out to grasp Solar's arm. They were in the infirmary of Azarius, and he could remember the spinning fan. The exposed wooden beams, the creek of rust. "Solar," he croaked. His mate bent lower to listen; eyes quivering with worry.

"You'll be fine," he replied. "The blood is working." Elysian's eyes swayed to the bag hanging over him, dripping into his veins. Her blood. He knew it was hers, could smell it tainting the air. It smelt wrong. "It will work." There was a waver in his voice as if Solar weren't sure.

"Don't," Elysian's voice was raspy and raw, but he had to speak "Don't let her get hurt. It was our decision. We were the ones that took the blow."

"I know," Solar blinked, tears dripped from the corners of his eyes like pearls. "I know."

"Where is she?" Elysian whimpered. "Where did you put her?"

"Our people wanted a trial. We could not deny them that. Our kings are suffering. You are suffering."

"It was our decision." He tried to rise, and Solar quietened him with a hand on his chest. "It was my fucking decision. Bring her here. Bring her here. Don't use her."

"Elysian," Solar wept, "Icarus is dying. There is an infection in your blood. It does not look good. The future is murky. My visions are not clear. It's not clear when she's around, I can't see if you'll—"

"And what do they want to do with her?" Elysian hissed. "Does she know that we need her heart—"

"No." Solar shook his head. "But the trial. Our people are determined, and—"

"Do you want her dead?"

Solar went quiet, lips pressed into a thin line. A pause, an eternity. His heart rate soared. No. "We've discussed it as a pack."

"She's done nothing wrong."

"We've grown soft Elysian." Solar's voice was filled with defeat.

"This is not her fault."

"You are too kind."

"This is not what we wanted, what we planned for—"

"We know. But it's both of you, or her. I can't. We can't. We have to choose."

"Bring her here," Elysian hissed. "Bring her to me."

"Elysian." Solar's eyes were filled with tears. "I do not want her to die too. N-not now. Not when we aren't ready. But if we must, we have to. If it hurts so bad now, then perhaps we should use this chance to kill her. This opportunity. Klaus thinks we're all poisoned, that we're just soft because she's nice and it's only a matter of time—"

"Promise me one meeting." Elysian's eyes fluttered, drifting into sleep, but the conviction was strong. His mind was clearer than ever. "Just me and her. One meeting."

"Elysian—"

"I'll hate you," he repeated. "If you don't give me this, I'll hate you forever."

"Elysian—"

"I'll die. I swear to you, I will die."

And he collapsed into the darkness, struggling to breathe, struggling to swim.

Please.

*

He resurfaced to the scent of her sadness, a strange sour tang that had his anxiety growing. She sat hunched over his bed, waiting quietly, warmth dripping on his fingers. Tears. He blinked, noting the shave of her head, the gauntness in her cheek, the chains around her wrist. He moved and she straightened. There was a rustle, a clatter of metal.

The soldiers.

"Step back," he barked at the guards. "Stay out of this." And he squinted into the murkiness, weakly watching the soldiers inch backwards, out of hearing, out of sight. But they were watching, and they would come for her if they had to. Satisfied by their distance, he turned his head towards her. "Did they hurt you?" he croaked, a wheeze of breath. How quickly he had weakened. His eyes strayed to his arm, wrapped thickly in gauze, pumped with her blood. He could barely move his fingers.

Her eyes were bright with tears. "I'm fine." But there were marks on her skin, the remains of a needle. The bruise of the cuffs on her wrist. The splotches of purple and yellow over her flesh. She was pale and thin, and pain grew in his chest. His anger roared. What had they done?

"The others shouldn't have let this happen," he managed a snarl. His mind was in a frenzy, confusion brimming, panic clogging his throat. "Zen—"

"They love you," she whispered, shushing him, eyes swaying to the door. The guards. He allowed himself to relax, jaw ticking, body tense. "He loves you." Elysian shook his head. She didn't understand, Zen was deeply in love with her.

"They know the truth," he stated. "They should know that we did this to ourselves—"

"I am just another female in your life," she answered softly.

"It was our choice."

"It does not matter."

"But…" Elysian collapsed onto the bed unable to speak, blinking wildly, suffering internally. And she licked her lips, eyes on her hands. And his meandered to her throat, there was a collar around her neck blinking red and green. The skin under was red and bleeding. "They're not here." Elysian realised, horror rising. It had only been days. "They should be."

"They fear their judgement might be clouded if they look at me. They do not want to look at me," she answered stiffly. Then her expression was crumpling, a moment of vulnerability, agonizing in his eyes. And his heart was breaking, dying. "Elysian, Icarus is not well."

"He's right here," he whispered, reaching to hold his lover, he could smell him in the air, always by his side. He could hear the thump of his heart, steady and strong. But Icarus's fingers were cold, and he did not respond even with a squeeze of his hands. "He'll be fine. Icarus has suffered worse under the hands of Euodia, he is strong—"

"But he's not. He's badly hurt, he's in a coma. I've given him my blood, as much of it as I can."

"Don't," Elysian mumbled. "Not too much, it isn't necessary."

"It is." Her chuckle was wet. "And you are just as sick as he is with your fever. They think you might lose your arm. But I fear, I fear Icarus needs more from me, everything from me." She admitted, biting her lower lip, eyes downcast. "I'm scared, but I don't mind it. I think. I think I know what I have to do for him. For you."