Chapter 91 He came back broken
IRIS
He staggers. I freeze, my breath hitching in my throat. .
I can’t just run into him, he’s limping, leaning heavily on Kelvin and Adrian.
So I step forward slowly, hands trembling, and when I reach him I wrap my arms around his waist. Softly. Carefully. I feel his body shake against me.
“Darian…” I whisper.
He presses his cheek to my head. “Iris,” he says, weak.
I pull back an inch, tiptoe to look at his face. Bruises. Cuts. Blood crusted in his hair. He’s a shell of himself.
My heart roars.
“God, what did they do to you?” My voice cracks.
He doesn’t answer right away. He lifts a hand to my cheek. It’s rough, trembling. Pain in his eyes.
“Let me get you inside,” I say, guiding his arm over my shoulder.
Kelvin and Adrian flank us. Adrian supports his left side; Kelvin, the right.
I lead them through the door. Nana is there, pale, apron in hand.
“Oh, my!” She catches her breath.
I step between her and Darian, holding him upright. “Nana, help us. Please.”
She nods, stepping back to let us enter. She motions toward chairs. “Sit, all of you.”
I help Darian to the sofa. My heart hammers. I want to kiss him, to heal him. But I don’t. I wait.
Kelvin disentangles himself, leaning against the doorframe, jaw tight. Adrian stands, arms crossed, face harsh with worry.
Nana bustles toward the kitchen. “I’ll get water. Something warm.”
I slide beside Darian, sitting close. His limb shakes as he lifts a hand to steady himself.
“Tell me what happened,” I demand, voice low.
He shakes his head, lips twisted. “I…it’s not that important.”
I place my hand over his. “It’s okay. I just need to know you’re still you.”
He swallows. I see the lines of pain in his neck. He swallows again. “I’m still here.”
Nana returns with a pitcher and cups. She pours water. Hands me a towel.
I dab at a trickle of blood near his temple. I flinch at the bruise pattern.
“Let me get the first air kit. We need to bandage you up.” Nana says and she moves silently to a cabinet and returns with cloths, salves.
I help Nana unwrap his shirt sides to reach wounds. Darian flinches at cold air on raw skin.
I whisper apologies. “I’m sorry you had to come like this.”
He looks at me with dark eyes. “I had to.”
A tremor of fear grips me. Doesn’t he see what he’s risking? What he’s giving up?
Nana murmurs instructions; irrigate, clean, soothe. I follow tremblingly.
With each motion, I feel closer to breaking.
Nana drapes a blanket over him. I place a hand on his shoulder.
“Stay with me,” I whisper, though he is already here, pressed beside me.
Adrian gives him water. Kelvin paces, restless.
Nana’s voice is quiet, “Rest now. You’re alright. I’m going to make dinner and special soup for you.”
I lean my head on his chest. Hear his heartbeat: ragged, but alive.
“I was so scared when I saw you like that,” I whisper.
“I’m alright, Iris.” He says as he tightens his arm around me, heavy but comforting. His scent is faint under the blood and dried sweat and it pulls at something primal in me. I don’t even care that we’re on the couch in the middle of the living room. I just need him close.
His thumb brushes the back of my hand slowly, like he’s memorizing the shape of me. I lean into him, forehead against his jaw.
“You scared me,” I whisper.
“I scared myself,” he mutters, lips close to my ear. “But thinking of you kept me sane.”
The air stills.
It’s just us. Him and me. In this moment, no prophecy, no war, no blood-soaked truths.
“Wow,” Adrian's voice slices through the silence, loud and full of mischief. “I didn’t realize we became invisible the moment the two of you locked eyes.”
I blink, straightening suddenly like I forgot how to sit. “Oh my God.” I glance over. “You’re still here.”
Adrian leans against the armchair like it’s a throne, arms crossed, smug as ever. “Still here, still fabulous, still starving. But by all means, continue the romance novel. I live for this front row view.”
Kelvin chuckles from where he’s perched on the edge of a side table. “You really were in your own little world there.”
Darian sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Do you always have to talk this much?”
“Only when you make it this easy,” Adrian says, grinning. “You two were basically whispering sweet nothings like we don’t exist.”
“I forgot how annoying your voice is,” Darian grumbles, but there’s a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
“You love me,” Adrian quips. “Besides, I’m the only one who brought some actual levity into this depressing wolf soap opera.”
Kelvin raises a brow at Darian. “You really look like hell, though. How are you even sitting up?”
“Barely,” Darian says, adjusting in his seat with a grimace. “I’ve had worse.”
“You always say that,” Kelvin mutters.
Adrian smirks. “It’s true. Remember that one time he got shot in the leg and still insisted on fighting in the midnight trials?”
I blink. “You got shot?”
“Through and through,” Adrian says, holding up a finger like he’s narrating a horror story. “Didn’t even flinch. Just wrapped it up and kept going like a lunatic.”
Darian shrugs. “Didn’t have a choice.”
I shake my head. “You’re all insane.”
“Maybe,” Kelvin says. “But it’s kind of our thing.”
“Survival is our thing,” Darian corrects, but his voice is softer now, less guarded. I can see it in the way he leans back just a bit, letting himself exhale around people he trusts.
I catch Adrian watching me again, one brow arched high.
“What?” I ask.
He holds up both hands. “Nothing. Just thinking how you’re probably the only person Darian’s ever let fuss over him without growling or threatening murder.”
Darian grunts. “That’s because you usually fuss like a deranged peacock.”
“Deranged peacock?” Adrian gasps. “I’m wounded.”
Kelvin snorts. “You’ll live.”
“I’m not sure I want to,” Adrian says dramatically. “If I don’t get food soon, I may just pass into the afterlife.”
Right on cue, Nana’s voice floats from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready!”
Adrian springs up like he was summoned by the food gods. “Bless that woman.”
He turns toward Darian, mock serious. “Now, do we carry you like the royal invalid you are, or do you prefer we fashion a stretcher?”
Darian groans. “Just help me up, idiot.”
“Iris, help your prince,” Adrian teases.
I’m already at Darian’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist while Kelvin takes the other side.
Adrian skips ahead, calling over his shoulder, “Try not to collapse before the soup. That’d be rude.”
Darian mutters, “Push me one more time and you’ll limp with me.”
I squeeze his side gently. “Be nice. You’re outnumbered.”
“Yeah,” Darian breathes, smirking faintly. “But at least I’ve got you.”
And with that, we shuffle slowly to the dining room, laughter trailing behind us like the start of something whole again.