Page 28 of Dragon King’s Bullied Mate

Dag stepped between them so quickly that the movement startled even the guards stationed farther down the corridor. His broad frame cut off Lyra’s view of Mikael while one heavy hand remained on the king’s shoulder as though physically steering him away was well within his right.

“You should return to your bed,” Dag said firmly. Beneath the command, Lyra caught something sharper lurking in his tone. “The physician already said you are not strong enough for this.”

Mikael did not answer immediately.

He shifted his weight and his gaze locked on Lyra over Dag’s shoulder with an intensity that made her chest tighten painfully. There was recognition there, fractured and incomplete but unmistakably real. For one terrifying moment, hope surged through her before caution smothered it again.

He remembered something, not enough, but something.

“Mikael,” she called before Dag could force him farther down the corridor. His name escaped her lips almost on their own because she could not bear watching him disappear again without trying. “Please.”

She needed him in order to be able to search for Beckett.

Dag turned sharply toward her and irritation flashed openly across his face now. “You do not address the king so casually.”

Lyra ignored him entirely. “Mikael, listen to me.”

The king blinked slowly, almost as though pulling himself free from a dream. Beside him, Dr. Martin stepped closer with visible concern etched across his weathered features.

“You need rest,” the physician reminded him carefully. “The vaccine has begun working, but the poison is still affecting your mind and body more than you realize.”

Vaccine. Poison.

The words collided violently with memories Lyra had been trying not to revisit since the night she found him half-dead in the snow. Before she could stop herself, words burst from her mouth.

“Blysemberry root.”

Every head in the corridor turned toward her instantly.

Martin stared. “What?”

Lyra swallowed hard beneath the sudden weight of their attention. She forced herself not to shrink beneath it the way she once would have years ago when Dag and the others had cornered her in school corridors with mocking smiles and cruel amusement burning in their eyes.

“The root,” she said more steadily. “Ground into tea or broth. It slows blood poisons and neutralizes some toxins if it’s administered quickly enough.”

Martin moved toward the bars. “How do you know that?”

“My grandmother taught me,” Lyra answered. “It grows near the northern frost marshes. The leaves detect poison and the root slows the toxicity. I gave it to him while he was unconscious once I figured out there was more going on than just frostbite.”

The physician’s expression sharpened with immediate fascination. “That explains it.” He glanced quickly toward Mikael. “The root must have slowed the toxin long enough for you to get the antidote.”

Dag looked deeply displeased by this entire conversation. “Whether or not she accidentally managed to keep him alive does not change the fact that she is awaiting judgment.”

“Judgment for what?” Mikael demanded.

“We don’t know who poisoned you, and she is the most logical suspect.”

“She’s the one who found me, isn’t she? And kept me alive before you arrived.”

“Yes,” Lyra almost shouted.

“It remains to be determined, Mik. We don’t know yet.”

“She literally just told you how she saved me. Why would she do that if she had been the one that poisoned me?”

“Because we have her locked up. She’ll say anything.”

“I sincerely doubt that. She may know more about the poison than anyone currently inside this castle,” Martin countered. “Myself included. I would like to question her further.”