Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,82

much more for what they’ve done.

As fast as the fight started, they’re gone.

The moment the last one disappears, Valerian sags against me. His face is contorted in pain, and he wheezes with each breath. Startled, I brace my legs, struggling beneath his weight.

“Why did you come for me?” he breathes.

“Fuck you,” I snarl. Now that the danger is gone and he’s safe, my anger at what he’s done flares to life. “How could you do that to yourself? To me?”

“Not . . . supposed to be here.”

“I am your mate. Your pain is my pain now.”

“Then you are fucked.” The despair in his voice nearly kills me.

I grunt under his heft. He’s fading. Crap. “Do you think you’re the only one with a tormented past? We all come with baggage and pain, Valerian. Love isn’t always pretty. It’s messy and ugly and imperfect. That’s the point.”

His eyes are swollen nearly shut, but I glimpse enough to catch the agony inside. “I just wanted the hurt to stop.”

My throat clenches. He was in so much pain that he preferred the agony of letting strangers beat him half to death.

Can’t deal with that now. Later.

Gritting my teeth, I guide him the last few feet to the exit door. The gorgeous night sky that awaits on the other side feels wrong. How can anything be beautiful right now when my mate, the person I want to spend eternity with, is bleeding and broken, and I don’t know how to fix him?

His penthouse is only a few blocks away, but the journey there makes it seem like miles. Inside the elevator, Valerian sags against the glass wall, and I fumble with the buttons until I hit the top floor.

Metallic silver blood smears the panel. Valerian’s blood.

More blood drips from his broken face as he limps across the ivory and silver veined marble tiles to his door. The handle senses his presence and clicks open, a rush of freezing air billowing over my bare skin.

Once we’re inside, the adrenaline I used to get us here fades. My legs threaten to give out, my head spinning, but I focus on my fury, harnessing it to do what I need to do. I shuck off my heels, the creamy marble like ice against my feet as I help Valerian into the bathroom.

I’m too angry to fully appreciate the beautiful space, which is ten times the size of my cottage bathroom. Everything is varying shades of cool white and silver. Countertops made of real ice line the walls, and floor-to-ceiling windows show off the skyline. A walk-in shower waits near the far wall.

Instead of owning a bathtub like a normal person, a long, slender pool runs down the center of the room, the edges inlaid with silver and sapphires. Valerian leans against the icy countertop, his quiet telling me more about his pain than any sound could.

He’s in agony.

Why? It’s obvious they beat him, probably for a long time, but that shouldn’t cause this reaction? Right? And the blood pouring from his wounds looks darker, thicker. The sheer amount of blood and fact that it hasn’t clotted yet sends my heart into a frenzied beat.

Cursing, I rip open the modern cabinets and drawers, searching for bandages, ointments, something to stop the bleeding.

“Leave.” His voice is near unrecognizable. “Don’t want you . . . to see me this way.”

“You don’t get a choice! I’m your mate. Your hurt is my hurt. Your injuries my injuries.” I rip open another cabinet, glass containers falling to the counter in a spray of glass. “God, why don’t you have any bandages!”

Panic laces my voice. Valerian manages a smile that makes me want to both punch him and hug him. “This is my man cave. Bandages don’t go with the aesthetic.”

Normally the fact that his wry humor is still intact would make me feel better, but the soft rasp of his voice does the opposite.

He’s fading.

I discover a cabinet full of plush resort style towels. Ripping them from the shelves, I press as many as I can over the major wounds I can find. He doesn’t say a word as I pile more and more towels over him, but before I’ve finished, they’re soaked with his blood.

This goes beyond my abilities. Fumbling with the clasp on my clutch, I dig out my phone and text Eclipsa. Valerian’s silver blood smears the screen.

Found him. Penthouse. Help.

It rings a few seconds later. Busy trying to stop the bleeding, I answer and then hit the speaker.