The Blood Crown (The Blood Folk #2)

31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

T he feeling of weightlessness was such a welcomed reprieve that Aurelia nearly sobbed when her boots hit frozen ground.

Ven’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her upright as her eyes focused on their surroundings—the familiar dotting of pines, the rocky terrain, the night-drenched forest around them . . .

And towering high above—

Ravenstone.

She took an unsteady step forward, the warmth of Ven’s hand spanning the small of her back as she passed through the wards—worried that if she even so much as blinked, the sight might vanish entirely.

The protection spells caressed her exposed skin—her face, her neck, her hands—and she could have sworn they whispered I know you, I know you, I know you.

Nira appeared in a plume of smoke, Karro next to her, holding Valea in his arms. The scene was enough to shake her from her stupor as she stepped out of Ven’s reach, his fingers reluctantly releasing her.

Valea’s blood stained Karro’s stolen clothing, but the Wraith hardly seemed to notice as he lifted the hand pressed to her side, revealing the cut from Maloch’s blade.

It was as if the sword had scorched her from the inside, the wound blackened and smoking even now, spreading across her body. Her alabaster skin had paled even further, a sheen of sweat covering her brow as her eyes fluttered under blue-veined lids. Dried blood stained her silvery-white hair a shade of rust.

A flash of green rushed out to meet them as Embra sprinted across the narrow bridge, her thick braid of emerald hair spilling down a slender shoulder. Brown eyes met Aurelia’s, widening as her footsteps faltered, silver lining them before they sharpened with purpose once more and she raced for Karro and the Nostari princess.

Embra looked down at Valea’s bloodied body, dark green brows knitting together as she glanced up at Karro.

“Please,” He pleaded, voice breaking.

The emotion seemed to take Embra by surprise, but gave him a single nod, pale green throat bobbing before she fell into her role once more. “Quickly, then.”

Within moments, a table was cleared and two of the Wraiths moved to lift Valea from Karro’s arms.

“I’ll do it,” he growled between bared teeth, his grip tightening on her limp body as he laid her on the table with a tenderness Aurelia had never witnessed from the ancient warrior.

His jaw clenched as he watched Embra peel away Valea’s blood crusted gear, and she paused, eyes flitting to the crest embroidered above Valea’s breast. “What did this?”

“Maloch,” Karro answered softly, “and a blade meant for me.”

Embra glanced up at him, eyes widening only for a moment before she began calling out for basins of fresh water to the Wraiths assisting her. Then turning to Aurelia. “I need you to fetch some things for me that might help slow the venom.”

Grateful to be of use, Aurelia committed the list to memory, scanning the shelves of Embra’s laboratory in search of the tonics and extracts she’d requested. When she returned, Embra had cut away the rest of Valea’s gear, cleaning away the dried blood and revealing the black, festering wound beneath.

A blush stained Karro’s face as his eyes dropped to the floor, but his feet remained rooted beside Valea, shadows pouring off him at every wince and whimper she made in her unconscious state.

Her pale skin had been entirely leeched of color, breathing so faintly that her chest hardly moved.

Amber and green threads of magick unspooled from Embra’s fingertips as she worked to draw out the oily substance from Valea’s body.

The female rasped wetly, eyelids fluttering open for a moment as Embra nodded at Aurelia.

She stepped forward, careful to give Karro a wide berth as she uncorked the vial of shimmering liquid. The same elixir that she’d watched Ven administer to him the night he'd been attacked by a demon.

This wouldn’t be pleasant to endure—less pleasant for Karro to watch.

Emptying the contents, Aurelia stepped back as Embra resumed her healing, hands outstretched over Valea’s abdomen. The female let out another whimper, her forehead creasing, the pain softening her features and making her nearly unrecognizable from the one who had helped them fight their way out of Mountveil.

Embra’s magick worked in tandem with the elixir as the black substance pumped out from Valea’s wound. Sweat glistened across her pale brow, stitched together in pain.

At last, her blood ran red—the skin around the ragged edges of her injury going from black to blue to purple.

“The blue vial,” Embra ordered, hand outstretched as Aurelia passed the tonic to her.

She pressed the bottle to Valea’s purple-tinged lips, watching as the female’s throat worked, swallowing the substance.

Her silver brows smoothed, relief removing the lines that had creased her forehead moments before.

“Red,” Embra called out to the Wraiths nearby, sending two of them scattering to raid the supply of the synthetic blood.

“I’ll do it,” Karro stepped forward, biting into his wrist, blood welling up as he pressed his arm to Valea’s lips.

“She’ll need much more if she’s going to recover,” Embra softly countered.

Karro’s scarlet eyes flashed in challenge. “Then I’ll give her as much as she needs.”

In that moment, Aurelia wondered if he’d drain himself dry trying to keep the female alive.

Her eyes snagged on Ven, standing at the edge of the room.

She knew what she’d be willing to do if she were in the same position. Even now . . .

Valea’s breathing had eased, her skin no longer tinged with violet and gray.

Embra claimed the worst was over, and now she just needed time to heal and rest. Heavy drapes had been found in one of the unused bedchambers, hauled and hung at Karro’s command, swallowing the usually bright space in darkness.

He sat in the chair beside the female, forearms braced on his thighs, still speckled with her blood. Concern drawing his dark brows together.

He’d refused to leave her side even for a moment, and Aurelia wondered if it was only a sense of duty that kept him there.

Feeling useless in the tight space, she backed into the greenhouse, the smell of blood and sulfur less pungent here.

She didn’t bother turning as warmth flooded the back of her neck—already knowing Ven had followed her. Nira detached from the doorframe, saving her from being alone with him.

Ruby eyes flicked to the darkened room beyond the greenhouse. “Who was the female?” Nira asked.

Was.

It wasn’t said with callousness—only a statement.

Even with Embra’s healing magick, Valea’s injury had been far gone. If she managed to survive, it would be a miracle.

“My sister— half -sister,” Ven amended, fatigue etched into his face.

Nira’s dark eyes flared, but the female held back whatever questions were on her tongue with a nod. “We realized something was amiss when you didn’t return. I sent Wraiths out to find you, but they discovered their magick useless once they were outside of our wards. So I sent more on foot—but by the time we found you . . .” she trailed off with another glance toward Valea’s sleeping form.

Ven’s mouth tugged into an exhausted smirk, “You worried.”

The dark female lifted her chin. “I just wanted to know if my title as Commander was permanent or temporary.” Nira answered bluntly, her lips curving into a rare smile. “It’s good to have you back.” Ruby eyes slid to Aurelia. “ All of you.” She turned back to Ven. “I imagine you could use some rest and a meal.”

Ven’s shoulders fell as he offered a grateful smile, casting a glance over his shoulder toward Aurelia. “It seems things were in good hands.”

“You think just because the Commander was lost in the woods for a few weeks, I’d let this place go to shit?” Nira replied.

Ven chuckled, “Not for one moment.”

“Go—” Nira jerked her chin toward the North wing. “Rest. I can handle things a while longer.”

Ven laid a hand on her shoulder, the female patting it affectionately in return.

Aurelia couldn't help herself as she smiled at the interaction. So familiar. So . . . normal. And yet everything had changed.

They’d survived Mountveil. They’d escaped two princes of the Void and their demons. They’d finally made it back.

But nothing felt quite like she’d expected it to.

It seemed less complicated if I bore this burden alone.

Aurelia pushed through the glass doors of Embra’s tower, the low lilting melody of Karro's voice fading as she descended the steps into the corridor below.

“Aurelia—” Ven called after her.

Anger flared. She wasn’t ready to have this conversation—not yet. Not when she couldn't think straight around him.

Her head snapped up, finding the corridor filled with dark-haired Blood Folk.

News of their Commander’s return must have spread rapidly through Ravenstone, and Wraiths lined the walls, pounding fists against their chests, reverence flashing in every pair of red eyes.

Ven followed her down the stairs, snagging in the crowd.

Aurelia dredged the last of her energy to slip through the Wraiths as the warriors closed around Ven, cutting off his path.

Wisps of shadow, soft as satin against her skin trailed after her.

Every arched window, every relief carved into the black stone of the mountain was somehow more beautiful than Aurelia remembered.

Something cracked inside her chest as she looked around at the black tourmaline walls of Ravenstone, loosening and chipping away the exterior that had been hardening around her since she’d left this place.

How was it possible that a place she’d spent such a short amount of time had become branded onto her soul, leaving an imprint on her very being?

She passed the towering library doors, thrown open, the floating candles casting amber light onto the black floors. A few more paces and she’d reach the Ledge.

Chilled air rushed through the corridor as if in greeting, along with the rumble of male voices echoing up from the level below, laughter ringing out from whoever was training.

That laugh—

Before her mind could wrap around the familiar sound, she was sprinting, all exhaustion forgotten as her immortal legs hurtled her through the fortress.

She skidded to a halt in front of the balcony overlooking the Ledge . . . her footsteps hesitant now—as if she might chase away the illusion if she moved too quickly.

Peering down at the shelf of rock below, she couldn't quite believe what she saw.

Seth stood, arms crossed over his chest and a grin spread across his face as he spoke with another male.

Not a male.

A man.

With a single step, she leapt from the railing, landing in a crouch on the level below. Before the mirage had the chance to evaporate, she ran at him—wrapping her arms around him so tightly that even if he'd been some figment of her imagination, he wouldn’t have been able to slip from her grasp.

“Ari—” Asher gasped, struggling for air.

She loosened her hold, forgetting her own strength for a moment. “You’re alive,” she croaked, voice breaking.

Saying the words aloud seemed to untether the small restraint she’d had on her emotions up until this point. Warm tears flooded down her face as she held onto her brother— her brother .

Alive. Alive. Alive, her thoughts whispered, trying to convince herself that it was real. That he was real.

Pulling back, she gripped his arms, taking a better look at him—trying to force her heartbeat to slow to a reasonable pace before she started crying all over again.

Laughing green eyes looked back at her, sparkling with mischief. The same lopsided grin.

Asher had always been tall and lean like their father, but his features looked sharper than she remembered—like he’d lost weight and hadn’t put it back on yet . . .

Her gaze fell to the open collar of his shirt, to his exposed throat.

A jagged scar spanned the entire distance of his neck, faded to an angry red line—but the fact that he had survived the injury at all . . .

“Embra,” he answered succinctly, giving a small shrug.

It didn’t escape her notice that Seth’s eyes darkened behind Asher. He’d been the one to save her brother, too. He’d carried him back to the safety of Ravenstone—to Embra’s powerful healing magick—and it was nothing short of a miracle that Asher was before her, alive and well. Through the haze of tears, her eyes snagged on the quiet Wraith.

Seth inclined his head toward her with a soft smile. She wouldn’t have expected anything else, but she took two strides toward him, wrapping him in a hug.

He went rigid for a moment before his shoulders relaxed and he patted her back in return—one thing that he and his twin had in common.

“He’s a fighter—must run in the family,” Seth said with a small smile, “It’s good to see you again, Ari,” he murmured against her hair, shifting as he glanced toward the railing.

Ven stood above them, a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he watched their reunion.

Seth released her, swiftly climbing the stairs to reach Ven and clasping his forearm with a murmured exchange. Ven’s eyes flicked down to her.

She turned back to Asher, dutifully ignoring the flare of heat trailing fingertips up her spine from Ven's gaze as she embraced her brother once more.