Go for the heart. And Anastasiya Sokolova had done just that as she slipped a silver dagger into the princessâ abdomen. She might as well have stabbed him in doing so, bringing about pain, fear and rage in ways he hadnât known before.
He had already lost one half of him, he wasnât ready to lose the only person that made this remaining half still be worth something.
So he fought and he lost.
Trimalleolar fracture. The fae didnât even know what that meant when the doctors spoke about that, all he knew was that his ankle had been shattered to pieces. âHit where it hurts the mostâ Anastasiya Sokolova had said after snapping his bone leaving him without the capacity to keep fighting her, without the oportunity to avenge what sheâd done to Katia. And what good was a warrior that couldnât fight?
It was shameful how that woman had rendered him completely useless in a second. All his skill, all his loyalty reduced to nothing.
They had performed surgery on his ankle earlier in the morning and now that the sedatives heâd been given had started to leave his system, Marek had finally slipped out of the idiotic state heâd been after waking up. While he appreciated being able to form coherent thoughts again, the lack of sedatives also meant he began experience some discomfort on his recently operated ankle. Heâd been instructed to press a button to summon a nurse so he did just that. âExcuse me, how is Katia Kjar? Is she alright?â he asked as the nurse as she handled his medications. The painkillers were contained inside a syringe that she injected into the transparent veins that linked to his arm. The nurse refused to disclose any information since he wasnât related to the patient he was asking about.
âPlease, I need to know if sheâs alrightâ he insisted, desperation and concern seeping through his voice. All his plea got was an impersonal âSorry, sir. Hospitalâs policiesâ as she walked away. âIs she alright? Please!â.
