Chapter 22 Anastasius
The woman screamed in agony as the life emerging from within her ripped open her sex. Thyia coached her on proper breathing techniques as she squeezed the hand of her lover. The mother-to-be’s name was Hope.
I crouched at the end of the bed, prepared with linens for the babe to arrive. It was my task to bestow my gift upon the newborn. The parents begged the gods for some of my resilience to be transferred to their child by giving me the privilege of being the first to hold the new draconis. They didn’t need to know that during those first few moments when I held a babe, I prayed that the child would never experience the curse, my inability to feel, the parents begged for.
I perched dutifully in view of her entrance, watching as the head of the babe came forth from the woman’s intricate folds. The process squeezed fluid out of their lungs, so that the child could breathe, so that they could cry and make their voice heard. I closed my eyes, murmuring a prayer to all of the gods to protect the babe from my curse. Instead of heeding my prayers, horrifying images flashed before me:
The shoulders appeared, and the birth came swiftly afterward, but the cry never came. My heart thundered with dread as I sensed the reason. Somewhere in the background I could hear the woman praising De Vita. I plucked the newborn into my shaky arms, bringing them close to my chest. I wiped blood and mucus from their body, drying and warming their frail form. The absence of a cry . . . it was my worst fear. I flicked the babe’s feet, begging them to whimper. Instead, he blinked at me and cooed. My heart broke, and a silent sob left my lips. I wiped away tears those in the room wouldn’t understand and passed off the child to his mother. They welcomed the boy into De Vita while I took a step back, trembling with fear. My curse had spread to another. Watching another suffer made my heart cramp, but the alternative was just as bleak. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat.
I blinked, and the terrifying vision disappeared. In its place was a crying girl, perfectly healthy and strong. I picked her up as the mother cried with joy. “Welcome to De Vita, child,” I murmured.
I left shortly after the birth, not staying as long as I probably should have in favor of returning to Claeg. My only stop was to grab some of the salves for his wounds.
“My Prince.” Ercan gripped my arm when I went to shift on my balcony. I turned to the man I respected, willing to give him a moment. Just one. He swallowed. “Thank you for sparing Claeg. You are a good man,” he whispered despite us being alone. “You deserve happiness.” He gave me a small smile. My heart cracked with guilt.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” I cycled back to our age-old fight. Ercan sighed, shaking his head.
“I can’t blame you for fighting for others. It’s who you are. Who you’ve always been. You fought for me when nobody else would—not even myself.” His scars grazed my palms as he gripped my hand and looked into my eyes with what I could only describe as unconditional love. “For that and for what you’ve done for my son, I will always thank you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Ercan…” I rasped, my heart aching with the falseness of his claim. I was a blind coward—not a hero.
He released my hand, nodding toward the Sand Eye. “Go. Be with him. Find balance together.”
I found Claeg shivering in the cave, dying embers next to him. I studied his sleeping form: his jaw was taut, brows narrowed. Another nightmare tormented his sleep. I used a bit of magic to coax life back into the fire and carefully slipped in beside him. I wrapped my arm around him to warm his body, pulling him close to my chest. He shivered and whimpered, unconsciously leaning into me. The action tore at my heart. He was so stubborn at times, even to the detriment of his health. My fingers idly traced symbols on his skin, and eventually he relaxed into my hold. The sun was well above the horizon before he stirred.
“Sivert?” he murmured, yawning. I stilled. Who was this draconis Claeg called for? This wasn’t the first time he had awakened asking for a draconis that wasn’t me. My heart twisted with jealousy. Did he often wake up with draconis in his arms? I bristled at the thought of sharing his body with another. He was mine.
“No, Selected, it is Anastasius,” I answered, brushing his hair to the side. The sun looked so beautiful on his face. He tensed, his eyes flickering open. Our eyes met, and he became the air I breathed. Beautiful. Such brilliant violet eyes under lashes so lush and thick. Stunning. My heart ceased its beating, awaiting his response. Would he be upset that I lay with him? He could be hard to predict. It was a relief when his eyes softened and a lazy grin swept across his face, making him light up like the dawn. He licked his lips, drawing my eyes. At that moment, I could've sworn his mouth was made for mine. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth to his and explore. There was a spark in his eyes as if he knew exactly what my thoughts were, but he was still healing. So, I pulled away, putting some distance between us. It was hardly any space, but Claeg’s easy grin fell, making the divide feel like a canyon rather than a foot. Suddenly, I was desperate to mend the mistake, but Claeg looked away, the moment lost.
“The babe?” he asked, quickly shifting the mood.
“Crying strong.”
“That’s good.”
I grunted my agreement. There was something unspoken between us, but we left it unsaid. Gone was the levity from before, replaced by awkward silence.
“Eleos?” I murmured.
“Mmm?” he replied. I grabbed the salve in my pocket. I needed to touch him. Needed to assure myself that he was healing and that this distance was temporary.
“Let me see your wounds.” I held out my hands for his palms, and he stiffened. When he nodded, it was sharp and his eyes glistened as if I had struck him.
He sat up, and I knelt before him, taking his hands in mine. He sucked in a breath at my touch. I dressed his hands quickly but tenderly, allowing the salve to soak into the slowly healing wounds of his palms. Despite the repetitiveness of the process, I found it intimate. When I released him, I slowly dragged my eyes up to his. He was studying me closely, making me flush and nibble on my lip. Claeg’s eyes snapped to wear I sucked on my lip. The familiar taste of blood filled my mouth.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
His words startled me. He raised his hand to my chin and ran his thumb along the jagged edge of my ruined lips. I couldn't help but lean into his touch with a groan. I swallowed, my neck flushing with blood. I gave him a guilty smile. He wasn’t the only one who had berated me for my bad habits. Hen had once scolded me for my incessant chewing. Grief flitted through me at the reminder of her.
I forced my eyes to his neck, where the redness that had spread to his chest was gradually receding. I brushed aside his hair, revealing the edge of the mark he bore on his upper spine. Seeming to sense my intentions, Claeg turned around, giving me access to the brand on his neck. The flesh wasn’t leaking fluid anymore, which was a small mercy. Under the bubbled skin I could still make out the remnants of the crescent tattoo beneath the brand. For the first time, I took a moment to examine it. I knew the mark represented the Circulus’ revered Circle. It wasn’t complete, though, just a delicate crescent, like a moon. Beautiful, really. My fingers traced the mark, ignoring the crude line burned through it.
Claeg hissed, drawing my attention back to my task. I quickly finished dabbing the salve onto the wound. When I was finished, I dropped my hands.
“Thank you,” Claeg murmured, meeting my eyes. His were filled with a pain I had never experienced.
“Your gratitude isn’t needed, Selected,” I whispered and pressed a kiss to his forehead before wandering out of the cave with Claeg trailing close behind me.