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Twig’s shoulders slumped. “I know,” he murmured. “I was going crazy in there. My mother finally went home to wash up and relax for a bit, and I needed to see something that isn’t the four walls of that room.”

“I understand, but you’re not in any shape to walk,” Palmer said as he grabbed Twig’s arm and pulled him back toward his room.

Taylor did the same on Twig’s other side. Twig might be young, but he was a dragon shifter, and that meant he towered over both Palmer and Taylor, even though Taylor was a tall man himself.

In fact, Taylor didn’t think he’d ever dated any man taller than him. He couldn’t lie and say that having Twig standing next to him didn’t do something to him, but now wasn’t the moment—not with Twig’s knees this wobbly. Taylor put all his strength into holding the dragon up, and together, he and Palmer managed to get him back into his infirmary room. A few more steps, and Twig was sitting on the edge of his mattress, looking paler than he had when he’d first stepped out. His hands shook as he let Palmer and Taylor guide him down until he was stretched out on his back. He clutched the sheet, pulling it up almost to his chin, looking very much like a scared child.

Taylor’s heart ached for him. Twig wasn’t a child, but he had to be terrified. He had faith in Palmer, but at the same time, that faith might not be enough. Palmer was doing everything he could, but he wasn’t a miracle worker.

Taylor took a step back as soon as Twig was situated. This was Palmer’s area of expertise, not his. He still hovered close, just in case.

He understood where Twig was coming from. He’d been stuck in the bed for a while now, with his mother hovering over him as if she was afraid he’d break if she wasn’t present. From the conversations Taylor had overheard between the two of them, they loved each other, but it was also a constant battle. It probably wasn’t helping Twig heal.

At this point, Taylor didn’t think much would help except finding out what poison was in Twig’s system. The problem was that Palmer might not have enough time to figure that out. Twig was getting worse, not better, and he might just run out of time.

* * * *

TWIG KNEW HE SHOULDN’T be out of bed. His mother probably would’ve had a heart attack if she could have seen him a few minutes ago, and his legs had been protesting from the second he put his feet on the floor. He’d needed a break, though. Staring at the same four walls for days at a time made him feel like if he didn’t do something different, he was going to scream, and that wasn’t the best idea when he was stuck in the infirmary.

He didn’t want to worry people. They worried anyway, which was normal, but the last thing he wanted was for people to fuss over him. He would never convince his mother not to do so, but Palmer and Taylor? It wasn’t their job.

Well, okay, maybe it was Palmer’s job, although Twig was sure he had better things to do than drag him back to his bed. It was why he’d waited until he thought Palmer had left, but he hadn’t counted on Palmer stopping to talk with his brother.

Maybe he should have. He knew that the two of them were close, definitely closer than he’d ever been with his half-siblings. He’d often seen them together before he landed in the infirmary, and that clearly hadn’t changed. Now the two of them were both helping Twig back to his bed, and Twig felt like he was about to cry, and, at the same time, humiliated.

He hated that he was so weak. He’d always been like that, and his half-siblings had never seen him as a threat the way they saw Killian or some of the others, but it was worse now. He’d never wanted to be a threat to anyone, but he also never wanted to be poisoned.

Sometimes he wondered what would happen if Palmer couldn’t find a solution. Would he die? Probably. Would anyone be sad? His mother definitely would be, but it would also probably devastate Killian, which was one thing Twig didn’t want. This wasn’t Killian’s fault. It also wasn’t Palmer’s fault. He was doing everything he could, but whoever was responsible for this should pay, not him or anyone else. Twig’s mother wouldn’t care about that if something happened to him, though.

Which was why he had no plans on dying.

He let Palmer fuss over him but turned his head toward Taylor. The human looked worried, even though they barely knew each other. Taylor had been hanging around the infirmary lately, though, and Palmer had no doubt talked to him about Twig and what was happening to him.

“I don’t want to see you out of bed again,” Palmer gently ordered. “I understand that you’re bored, and I’m sure we can do something about that, but unfortunately, your body is too weak. You could fall, and that wouldn’t help your situation right now.”

Twig wanted to throw a tantrum, but he wasn’t a child. He also didn’t want to make Palmer’s life difficult. It was already bad enough that he had to deal with Twig’s mother and the poisoning. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It won’t happen again.”

Palmer gave a resigned sigh and leaned back. “Just tell me if you need something. I can find a way to get you out of this room for an hour or so if you really want that.”

“My mother would never allow it.”

A smile curled the corners of Palmer’s lips. “So that’s why you did this now. She left.”

“She wanted to wash up, but I know she’ll be back soon.” Twig bit his lower lip. “You’re not going to tell, are you?”

“I won’t. You’re an adult, and you can make your own decisions, even when they’re stupid decisions.”

Twig found himself smiling. “I know I’m getting out of bed when I really shouldn’t be.”

“I know that. I know that your mother isn’t making your life easy. I can see that. Whatever you need from me, just tell me. I can get you out of this room for a bit. I can tell your mother to let you be.”

“She’d hate that you could do that.”

Palmer shrugged and exchanged a glance with his brother. “I’m pretty sure she already hates me. That’s not going to change, and she’s not my patient. You are, and whatever you say goes. I understand why you can’t personally tell your mother to leave you be, but I’ll do it if you want me to.”

Part of Twig wanted to say yes, but another part really didn’t want to complicate Palmer’s life. “For now, I’m fine. I might take you up on your offer of getting me out of this place, though. I wouldn’t mind a bit of fresh air that isn’t coming in through the window.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”