Queen Mother Helena's POV
"Do whatever you need to do," I said to Elian. "Save her arm if you can."
He nodded and focused on his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of decades of experience. I watched for a moment, then stood and moved to Warrick.
I knelt beside my son and brushed the blood-matted hair back from his face. He looked younger like this, vulnerable in a way he never allowed when awake.
"You fool," I whispered, my hand gentle on his cheek. "What have you done?"
The curse had always been there, inherited from his father. I'd watched my mate struggle with it for years before the rogue attack finally killed him. But Warrick's episodes had been manageable, controlled, infrequent.
Until a year ago.
The attack that killed his father and took Diane had broken so
