Chapter 10 Weight of Exhaustion
Seri
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
All good children go to heaven.”
I woke up with Eluned’s creepy nursery rhyme keeping time in my head with the aches pounding through my body.
Blinking, I saw a white ceiling above me and tried to move, just to test how bad it was, and quickly found out that it was really bad. A sharp, jagged pain sliced through my ankle, my arm, my side, my head, well, just everywhere. I sank back against the pillow and sighed.
I didn’t know where I was, or how I’d gotten here.
The last thing I remembered was Amabel siphoning the last drop of magic I had left, and then Eluned kicking me, and then nothing.
I glanced around and saw lace curtains letting in golden light that gleamed on rich, polished furniture. The air smelled like clean linen and evening primrose, and the bed I lay in was soft and warm.
Not a vampire prince’s dungeon, at least, I thought with grim humor, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe.
I looked down and froze. My old clothes were gone, replaced by a plain white t-shirt that hung off me. Bandages wrapped my bad arm and a few other places, which meant someone had seen the wounds. Someone had undressed me to see them.
Panic began to curl low in my chest, tight and breathless, but before it could rise too high, another thought shoved it aside.
Brumous! He was with me! Where is he? I looked around again, a little more frantically this time, but didn’t see him. He must’ve stayed hidden. He must be okay.
And then, all at once, my heart remembered.
Mates. I found my mates.
But I was here to marry a man from the vampire court!
I’d signed a binding contract!
I can’t marry anyone else, though, I thought with a determined frown. I won’t marry anyone else.
The certainty rang through me like a bell, pure and clear. What it meant, what it would cost, didn’t matter. The Goddess knew what kind of trouble it would stir up. King Lucian would be furious, I was sure, and Arabesque?
I shuddered.
Arabesque would kill me before she let me ruin one of her schemes.
Assuming I didn’t just imagine the whole thing.
Which was definitely possible. I only remembered fragments, after all. Three voices, three scents, three sets of eyes. A sense of rightness that had settled into my bones like moonlight.
First things first. I’ll find Brumous.
Then I’d figure out if I really did meet my mates or only dreamed them in the dark.
I braced my hands against the mattress, ready to sit up, but the door creaked open before I could even lift my head.
A blond man stepped inside, a tray balanced in his hands.
The scent of warm bread and broth filled the room, chased by the heady perfume of moonflowers.
He moved like someone used to being watched and radiated calm control.
When his green eyes found mine, I shrank back just a little without meaning to.
A second man followed, this one with messy red hair and smelling of night phlox. He cradled a familiar bundle of gray fur in his arms, and my eyes widened in concern.
Brumous!
The pup seemed content in his hold, though, which helped my worry for him fade just a bit.
The last to enter was a dark-haired man with eyes so brown, they were nearly black. He carried bottles of water, his gaze locking onto mine with something almost reassuring. I ducked my head to sniff the shirt I wore and realized he was the source of the evening primrose scent.
Even with their comforting scents and the mate bond blooming between us, fear still had me by the throat. A trio of large, intimidating men standing around my bed left me overwhelmed, even if they were my mates.
I had to move, to find something to put between me and them. A door would be good, or at least a wall. Ignoring the jagged pain that clawed at so many different parts of me, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pushed off.
The moment my feet touched the floor, my body betrayed me. The room tilted violently as my knees buckled. I hit the ground with a hard thud, pain exploding through my leg as my ankle gave out. A broken sound escaped my lips before I could choke it back.
Humiliation burned hotter than the pain, the old helplessness surged up like bile, thick and choking. I was on the floor, crumpled, shaking, weak. Like always. Just like before.
No power, no pride. Just a broken thing waiting to be punished.
My hands clenched and the carpet bit into my knees as I tried and failed to sit up. My breath stuttered, quick and shallow, and the room spun not just from injury, but panic. My vision went grainy around the edges.
I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t. Not yet. Not when my skin was crawling with learned fear, when every inch of me expected shouting, hitting, cruelty.
Footsteps. A sharp inhale. A muttered curse, anger in the words.
One of them knelt. Close, too close. His shadow blocked the light. My muscles tensed, bracing for a blow, but it never came.
Cautiously, I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see the blond at my side, his hands hovering near my shoulders, seeming unsure where to touch. His green eyes narrowed, frustration tightening his jaw.
“That,” he said flatly, “was a terrible idea.”
Behind him, the redhead shifted Brumous in his arms as he stared down at me.
“You’re going to hurt yourself worse, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft and tinged with concern.
Even Brumous let out a small yip, as if sensing my distress. Or maybe just to agree with his new best friend.
“You’re safe.” The dark-haired man crouched on my other side, his bottomless eyes meeting mine. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
His words were gentle and reassuring while the blond’s irritation was as sharp as a wasp sting. The redhead’s worry, however, was the heaviest, like a thick blanket laying on top of me.
I stayed there, shaking and afraid, as my gaze darted between the three of them, their faces blurring at the edges as my eyes stung.
My stepfamily had taken great pleasure in teaching me fear, and now it lived in my bones.
Still, I was determined not to let them see me as an easy target and blinked back the tears.
They exchanged looks, something unspoken passing between them, then the blond sighed, his shoulders relaxing a fraction.
“Let’s get you back in bed,” he said, his tone a shade more coaxing. “Let us help you so you don’t collapse again.”
I hesitated, my breath coming in ragged bursts. The dark-haired man held out one hand, his eyes warm and steady.
“You don’t have to trust us,” he murmured. “Just don’t make yourself worse.”
I stared at his hand. To take it would be to surrender, to admit I couldn’t do this on my own, but the pitiful truth was I couldn’t. My bad arm hurt with each heartbeat, my ankle ached, a dozen scrapes and bruises throbbed, and exhaustion reached for me with relentless fingers.
And then there was the bond, a braided cord around my heart, each strand linking me to them and pulling me closer, encouraging me to trust them, to love them, to protect and care for them.
“Okay,” I whispered at last.
I waited for the cruelty to come, but it didn’t.
Just hands, large and rough and calloused, but also steady and warm and far too careful to be threatening.
I flinched just a little, but they didn’t pull away.
The redhead hovered close with Brumous as the blond supported most of my weight, like he didn’t quite trust the dark-haired one to do it right.
It should have felt suffocating, but somehow, it didn’t. The lovely scents rolling off of them helped; the whole room smelled like a midnight walk though the garden.
Who were they, these mates of mine? And where was the husband I was supposed to meet? What would they do about him? What would I do about him?
Later, I told my whirring mind. We’ll handle it all later.
Once I was under the covers again, the dark-haired man stepped back, his hands in his pockets, while the blond crossed his arms, his green eyes hard and sharp. The redhead stayed standing near the window, Brumous sprawled over him as they both watched me.
“Did your, uh, boss tell you to take care of me until he arrived?” I asked tentatively.
All three of them went dead still.
“We’re not here to take care of you.” The blond’s gaze flicked to the others, then settled back on me. “We’re your husbands.”
The words hit like a thunderclap, ringing in my ears. My mouth dropped open and my heart stumbled against my ribs.
Husbands?
The thought sent a wave of dismay sweeping through me, cold and prickling, like frost crawling up my spine. If they were my husbands, they had to be vampires, right? But they didn’t look like monsters. And none of them had fangs, or at least not that I could see.
Well, at least that solves the issue of what my mates would do about my intended husband, since they’re one in the same, I thought with grim humor. Still, one husband, a vampire no less, would have been enough to get used to! What am I supposed to do with three?
Their faces remained calm as my stomach dropped, and that only made me more upset. I wanted to scream and run away, but all that came out was a shaky breath, the sound of a leaf trembling in a storm. The bond was telling me they were safe, but I didn’t believe it. Not yet.
My fingers curled into the hem of my shirt, which was not my shirt.
“Who?” I swallowed hard, the word barely escaping my lips, as I gestured to the shirt.
The blond’s jaw tightened, the redhead’s gaze dropped, and the dark-haired guy’s expression softened with something like an apology.
“We took care of you,” that one said finally, sincerity in his nearly black eyes. “You needed help. We didn’t mean to intrude. You were… You weren’t in any state to…”
His sentence trailed off, the implication hanging in the air.
“We only wanted to help, darling,” the redhead added. “No harm intended.”