Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Jamie slept fitfully as night deepened. Azelon remained vigilant, watching for any signs that the healing had been insufficient.
His own body ached with exhaustion. The sacred ritual had drained him more than he'd expected, his markings now dimmed to their faintest glow. He should rest, should replenish his strength.
But Jamie's occasional whimpers kept him rooted to the chair.
The human's fever had broken, but his dreams appeared troubled. His head turned on the pillow, brow furrowing as if fending off unpleasant visions. The connection forged during the healing ritual lingered—faint now, but enough for Azelon to sense echoes of Jamie's distress.
Flickers of the human's dreams seeped into Azelon's awareness. A frantic search through endless corridors. A brother's face, just out of reach. A sense of responsibility so heavy it threatened to crush him.
Azelon's chest tightened. The weight of duty was something he understood all too well.
"Daniel," Jamie murmured, reaching for something unseen. "Wait."
Azelon hesitated, then leaned forward. "It's just a dream," he said softly.
Jamie didn't wake, but his fingers clutched at the blanket, knuckles white with tension.
Azelon moved from the chair to perch on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder, careful to avoid aggravating any injuries.
"Your brother is not here," he said, keeping his voice low and steady. "But you are safe. The store is safe."
Jamie's eyes flew open, disoriented and still clouded with the remnants of his nightmare. He stared at Azelon for a long moment, as if struggling to place him.
"The creatures," he gasped, trying to sit up. "Corin…"
"Everyone is safe," Azelon assured him, gently pressing him back against the pillows. "The creatures are gone. Corin is resting."
Jamie blinked, awareness gradually returning to his features. "You healed me," he recalled. "With your markings."
Azelon nodded once, withdrawing his hand. "A Tideborn technique. Unconventional, but effective."
"Forbidden, you mean," Jamie said, his gaze surprisingly shrewd despite his weakened state. "For someone who's exiled."
The observation caught Azelon off guard. How much had Jamie gleaned from their connection?
"The methods were... not meant for outsiders," he admitted.
Jamie's eyes held his. "You risked something to save me."
Azelon looked away, uncomfortable with the gratitude in the human's voice. "You were injured defending my charge. It was my responsibility."
"Is that all?" Jamie asked.
Azelon's tail flicked with irritation. "What else should there be?"
Jamie studied him for a long moment, long enough that Azelon had to fight the urge to shift under his scrutiny.
"You should rest," Azelon said. "Go back to sleep."
Sadly, it didn't seem like Jamie felt at all inclined to heed his advice. "Why are you being so evasive?"
Azelon's jaw tightened. "What is it that you want me to say?"
"Whatever you're not saying." Jamie held his gaze steadily. "During the healing, I felt... Your concern. Your conflict. You feel things very deeply."
Azelon turned away sharply. The connection had revealed too much.
"I respect your strength," he said finally, choosing his words with care. "Your stability. The way you've handled Corin's chaos."
"And?"
"I find myself..." Azelon began, then stopped, frustrated by his own inability to express the tangled mess of emotions.
"You arrived here three days ago and disrupted our whole lives.
Corin responds to you in ways he never did with me.
The store, this entire situation… everything changed the moment you appeared. "
"And that bothers you."
"Yes." Azelon turned to face Jamie again. "No. I don't know."
The admission of uncertainty felt like failure. Tideborn culture valued clarity, conviction, purpose. Doubt was weakness. Confusion was childish.
Jamie's expression softened. "Things changed for me too. A week ago I was living a normal life on earth. Now I'm in another world with two fae creatures."
"We're not the same species," Azelon corrected automatically. "Tideborn are distinct from—" He broke off at Jamie's small smile. "That's not the point."
"No," Jamie agreed. "The point is that sometimes change happens whether we want it or not. The question is what we do with it."
Azelon suspected they were no longer talking about Jamie's arrival.
"I should change your bandages," he said, deliberately shifting focus to something tangible, practical. "The healing addressed the infection, but the wound still needs care."
Jamie allowed the subject change, though his eyes suggested he recognized the fresh evasion. "Alright."
Azelon gathered fresh bandages and a basin of warm water that the store had thoughtfully provided. The building seemed increasingly attuned to their needs, anticipating requirements before they were voiced.
Just like its owner, who somehow anticipated the words people tried to avoid saying.
"This may be uncomfortable," Azelon warned as he carefully began removing the old bandages.
Jamie inhaled sharply but made no other sound as the cloth was pulled away from his healing wound. The injury looked significantly better than it had before the ritual—the angry red had faded to pink, the edges already knitting together.
Azelon dampened a cloth and gently cleaned the area. The intimacy of the task wasn't lost on him. Tideborn rarely touched outside of specific circumstances—ritual healing, combat training, or between bonded pairs.
Yet here he was, tending to a human he'd known for mere days.
Jamie watched him work, his breathing controlled and steady despite what must have been considerable discomfort.
"Where's Corin?" he asked.
Azelon's hands stilled momentarily. "He's giving you space to recover. And keeping his emotions contained."
"Is he okay?"
"He blames himself for your injuries," Azelon answered honestly. "He believes his lack of control caused this."
"It wasn't his fault," Jamie frowned. "He was trying to protect the store. Protect us."
"I know." Azelon applied a fresh herbal paste to the wound. "But Corin is emotional." Wasn't that the whole problem?
"You need to talk to him," Jamie said. "He listens to you, even when he pretends not to."
Azelon raised an eyebrow. "You've known him three days and you believe you understand our dynamic?"
"Sometimes an outside perspective sees things more clearly." Jamie winced slightly as Azelon began wrapping fresh bandages around his torso. "Besides, during the healing, I saw... fragments. Memories."
Azelon's hands faltered. "What did you see?"
"Not enough to piece everything together," Jamie admitted. "But enough to know you care about Corin more than you let on. And enough to know that whatever happened in your past is still haunting you."
Azelon secured the bandage with practiced efficiency, then stepped back. "The connection should have been one-way," he said stiffly. "I apologize for the intrusion into your mind."
"I don't mind," Jamie replied, surprising him. "But I think you do."
Before Azelon could respond, the door to the healing chamber swung open. Corin stood in the threshold, amber eyes wide as they took in the scene: Jamie half-sitting up in bed, Azelon standing shirtless beside him, bandages and healing supplies scattered around them.
"I felt something," Corin said, his voice unusually subdued. "Magic. Your magic." His gaze fixed on Azelon's uncovered markings, which pulsed slightly brighter under his scrutiny.
"Jamie's fever worsened," Azelon explained, reaching for his discarded tunic. "I used Tideborn healing techniques."
Corin stepped further into the room. "The ones you told me only bonded pairs used?"
Azelon stiffened. He'd shared too much with Corin over their months together. "The situation was dire."
Corin's gaze moved to Jamie, a complex mix of emotions crossing his face. Relief, guilt, and something more vulnerable. "You're better?"
Jamie nodded. "Much. Thanks to Azelon."
Corin took another step forward, his usual dramatic flair subdued but not entirely absent. "Well, that makes two of us he's rescued, doesn't it? Forms a bond, that sort of thing."
Jamie shot Azelon a look that clearly asked whether he'd told Corin about the literal bond formed during the healing ritual. Azelon gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
"How are you feeling?" Jamie asked Corin, changing the subject.
"Working on my control," Corin replied, holding up a hand that emitted a soft, controlled glow of emotional projection. "See? No explosions. No chaos. Just a nice, tidy little ball of feelings that won't hurt anyone."
The demonstration was impressive. More control than Azelon had seen from him before. But there was something brittle in Corin's voice, a forced lightness that didn't reach his eyes.
"You must have worked hard on that," Azelon observed.
"Had to," Corin shrugged. "Can't have another incident, can we? One near-death experience is probably enough for our human friend."
"It wasn't your fault," Jamie said firmly.
"Sweet of you to say, but we both know that's not true." Corin moved to the foot of the bed, keeping a carefully measured distance from both of them. "Anyway, I just came to check on you. I felt the magic and wanted to make sure everything was alright."
"I was about to prepare a bath," Azelon said. "The healing ritual leaves residue that needs to be cleansed."
Corin's eyebrows rose. "A bath? How intimate."
The teasing words didn't match his expression, which had gone carefully blank. Before either Azelon or Jamie could respond, Corin backed toward the door.
"I'll leave you to it, then. Glad you're on the mend, Jamie."
He slipped out before anyone could stop him, the door clicking shut behind him.
Jamie sighed. "He's not okay."
"No," Azelon agreed quietly. "He's not."
"You should go after him."
Azelon hesitated. The instinct to follow Corin warred with his duty to continue tending Jamie. "The bath is necessary for your recovery."
"It can wait," Jamie insisted. "Corin needs you more right now."
"You don't understand," Azelon said, frustration edging into his voice. "The residue from the ritual—it creates a continued connection between us. The longer it remains, the more... intimate that connection becomes."
Jamie's eyes widened slightly. "Intimate how?"
"Thoughts. Feelings. Eventually, dreams." Azelon looked away. "It's why such healings are typically reserved for bonded pairs."
"I see," Jamie said, though his tone suggested he didn't fully grasp the implications. "Still, Corin…"
"I'll speak with him after," Azelon interrupted. "But this cannot wait, unless you wish to find yourself unexpectedly sharing my mind."
Jamie considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. What do we need to do?"
The store, ever responsive to their needs, had already transformed one corner of the healing chamber. A large copper tub now stood there, steam rising from the water within. Herbs floated on the surface, filling the air with a clean, sharp scent.
"The water must contain specific elements to neutralize the magical residue," Azelon explained. "You'll need to immerse yourself completely."
Jamie glanced at the tub, then back at Azelon. "Help me up? I'm still a bit unsteady."
Azelon moved to his side, carefully helping him rise from the bed. Jamie leaned heavily against him, and the contact sent a jolt through Azelon—the healing connection amplifying the sensation of skin against skin.
From Jamie's sharp intake of breath, he felt it too.
"This is going to be complicated, isn't it?" Jamie murmured as they made their slow way toward the bath.
Azelon didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Yes," he admitted. "It already is."
The store creaked around them, a sound almost like agreement.