out. Are you well enough to assist me?”
Blinking, she nodded. The effort seemed to make her dizzy, as she swayed on her feet. Ruben cursed under his breath. He couldn’t leave her, but he wasn’t sure if dragging her around with him was the best idea, either.
At this point, he didn’t really have a choice. She wasn’t seriously hurt, so she either had to help or take herself to safety.
A prince’s first responsibility was toward his people. His family. His home. Damn and double damn.
“Come on.” Taking her arm, he led her through the thickening smoke toward the closest group of people, with the intent of leaving her with them. Most had scrambled back to their feet; those could make their way out, to safety.
Near them, several lay still on the floor, unmoving.
Ruben’s stomach lurched as he dropped to his knees next to an older man he recognized from court. So many people hadn’t yet risen. He didn’t dare think that they might not be alive. This man—George something or other—blinked and lifted his head, gray hair tinted red with blood. Hurt, but alive. Ruben helped him to his feet, pointing him and the others who were able to move toward the door.
The next several minutes—hours?—passed in a blur. Though he’d had to resort to crawling under the smoke, Ruben managed to get from group to group, with Willow surprisingly right alongside him. She’d refused to leave for safety with the others.
As they led more and more people toward the door, her strength appeared to improve rapidly, for which he was thankful. Together they tended to the wounded, helping people who’d been stunned by the blast to their feet, assisting others in moving their wounded outside, where it was safer area.
Gasping for air, three times they had led groups of people toward the door, coughing and hacking all the way. They couldn’t stay much longer. The smoke had grown so thick everyone was getting disoriented.
Was everyone out? He still had not seen his parents, which chilled his blood. He knew his father and if King Leo had been able to move, he would have worked tirelessly to save his people. Ruben prayed the older man worked in another part of the castle, or even better, outside doctoring the wounded. He couldn’t stop long enough to search for him.
With time of the essence, Ruben grabbed several of the palace guards to help him drag the wounded outside, away from danger. This helped speed things up. Soon, the smoke-filled room emptied and, gasping for air, Ruben finally staggered outside and collapsed on the grass.
While he tried to suck in enough air to his burning lungs, Ruben pushed away the hated and eerie feeling of déjà vu. This had happened before, when his sister Alisa and her now husband Braden were here. Bombs had gone off inside the palace. Then, many had supposed the attacks were targeted at Dr. Streib, Alisa’s husband who’d initially traveled to Teslinko to do research on her.
But over time, they’d learned differently. The bombings hadn’t been directed at the American doctor. Rather, the royal family had been targeted by a group of extremists, those who claimed they felt more connected to their wolf selves and believed remaining human for longer than a week or two was an abomination to their true natures. Only Alisa had known how much Ruben was like them, though he didn’t share their propensity for violence. Their methods, which involved violence such as bombings, were deadly. They believed such things would draw attention to their cause.
Their cause, as he knew better than most, was futile. Shifters could not stay wolf without losing their mind. Until recently, the Society of the Protectors had been dispatched to bring in Feral Shifters for rehabilitation. Those who had refused, or were deemed too mad, had been eliminated. Fortunately, that barbaric practice had been outlawed.
Still, everyone knew about the limitations placed on changing. Everyone except these extremists. Considering what had happened to him when he had tried to stay wolf more than human, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of madness drove them.
Their bombs killed and maimed, accomplishing nothing but death and destruction, but still they persevered. The royal family of Teslinko had taken precautions to prevent this from ever happening again, but evidently those hadn’t been enough.
More death. More destruction. Senseless.
Shoving his thoughts to the back of his mind, Ruben summoned his last reserves of strength and began checking on his people. Now that they were out of the ballroom and safe, minor injuries could be attended to. Water was found and distributed and Ruben accepted a bottle gratefully, draining it in several gulps. He wished it did more to soothe his raw throat, but this would have to heal with time.
As he made his way through the throngs of people, Willow remained silently at his side, patching up the wounded, providing a slender shoulder when needed. Though she was covered in soot, her beautiful gown ruined, she worked tirelessly, selflessly, earning his gratitude and his admiration.
Finally, he thought everyone had been helped. As far as he could tell, they might have saved them all. With no casualties—at least that he knew of. All of the ones who’d been knocked out were all right.
He had yet to find his parents. Wearily, he pushed himself up off the grass. Willow looked at him quizzically, her exhaustion evident by the dark circles under her eyes. They had to be safe, he thought, seeing numerous members of the King’s personal guard milling about. If something had happened to either the king or queen, no matter how minor, there would have been an outcry and someone would have been sent to fetch him.
Finally, he found one of their assistants who, wide-eyed from shock, stuttered as he assured Ruben that the royal couple was fine. Apparently they’d been in another part of the palace when the explosion had occurred. They were now ministering to the servants and the most gravely injured.
Another part of the palace. Hearing this had brought a slight smile to his face, the first since the explosion. Even after all these years spent together, his parents were still deeply in love and were known to sneak off in the middle of a gala to grab some together time. He—along with all his sisters—used to find that mortifying. Lately, he’d viewed their amorous behavior more tolerantly, even finding it amusing.
This time he breathed a sigh of relief, believing this proclivity to sneak away to spend private time with each other might have saved their lives.
Relieved, he returned to his place on the grass by Willow and watched as a team of firefighters from the village worked frantically, attempting to put out the flames. Still, part of the ballroom continued to burn, the flames flickering, roaring hungrily and sending billows of thick smoke into the night sky.
Finally, the fire was extinguished. One last dousing of water had been sprayed. The remains of the ballroom were coated in watery soot and the sour odor of smoke still curdled the air.
Shoulders rounded with exhaustion, the firefighters silently put away their equipment and prepared to return to the village.
As he pushed again to his feet, Ruben realized he was exhausted. Even his wolf had slunk back deep inside him. He glanced at Willow to find she also stood at his side, clearly equally done in, yet uncomplaining.
When he turned to face her, she stumbled, nearly going to her knees. Easily he caught her, relishing the feel of her against him before setting her on her feet.
“I think we’re done.” Hand at her elbow, where soot made the material a dirty grayish black, he steadied her and smoothed her smoky, ash-covered hair back from her face. “Thank you so much for
