80. Aurelia
Chapter 80
Aurelia
T he sound of my own screaming wakes me up. I thrash out of my sheets, my legs shaking as Lyle’s arms band around me. “You’re home, angel. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
I suck in air, reorienting myself through the darkness, clutching at Lyle’s strong arms as he rocks me gently back and forth. I’m home. I’m home. Of course, I’m home. There is no collar on my neck and there are no bars around me. Savage rubs my legs in soothing strokes, and Scythe sits close, pressing his cheek to mine.
Their combined scents and their touch on me quickly grounds my mind. I sigh, long and loud. “I’m sorry.”
Scythe kisses me on the cheek, then my mating mark. That soothes me more than he’ll ever know. “We love you so much, Aurelia.”
“It’ll take time,” Lyle says. “Now and again, I wake up and have to remind myself I’m not in a cage.”
“Still?” I ask in surprise.
“Still,” he confirms, resting his cheek on my crown. “Sometimes these things stay with you, rearing their heads to remind you they’re still there. But it doesn’t mean they have to control you.”
I gulp down the cold water Scythe passes me, then watch him as he opens the lace curtain, allowing morning light to flood the room. “I dream of fire sometimes, and black smoke.”
Savage rubs at his eyes, looking forlornly at the blank wall. “Last night I dreamt I was a mermaid, and I was happy because it meant I could swim with you and Scythe.”
An unexpected laugh bubbles up my throat, and I double over, clutching my stomach. Savage is deadly serious when he says, “I had a blue tail and it was really long.”
That makes me laugh even more and I land sideways on the bed, wiping at my eyes as the emotions mix in my brain and the laugh turns into a sob. It erupts out of me like a broken fire hydrant, the building pressure suddenly finding release and I cry loudly into the air, screwing my eyes shut as pairs of arms come around me and bodies spoon mine from both sides.
I can’t control it. The despair, the agony, the loss. My cries are full of the pain of Lorian, leaving him behind. They are full of Raquel’s whimpers as I left them behind too. My cries are for Henry, Selena, Lady Drakos, Delilah and Emmerson…and for a dragon I crave to see again and yet never at the same time.
My body eventually gives out, and I lose the energy to sob after my ribs begin to ache. It’s only then that I feel the strokes upon my hair, the calming words in my ear. They lull me into a state between dozing and dissociating.
To move means to feel the pain.
“Then don’t move,” Scythe says in my head. “Be still until you can’t anymore.”
A few hours later, well after the academy breakfast service, I wake up hungry and Lyle has food waiting for me on a foil-wrapped plate. He plays the mother hen, making me sit in his lap as he feeds me avo toast and cherry tomatoes. Then I brush my teeth and shower in preparation for a visit with Raquel.
The others are all in class, so I go with my mates to the medical clinic. It’s slow going, because I insist on hobbling along the entire way, so Lyle takes the time to counsel me.
“It may be disconcerting to see them,” Lyle says. “They’re administering pain relief because it became clear Raquel was uncomfortable.”
“I saw them chained in the dungeons of Drakos Estate,” I say darkly, the memory painfully sharp now. “Nothing could be worse than that…or meeting Ruben’s regina.”
Savage freezes, swivelling around to stare at me. His face darkens as he realises what this means. That Xander has consorted with his enemies.
“When you slaughter a mated beast, it’s best to slaughter the entire pack,” Scythe rasps. “Otherwise, the others tend to come after you.”
Ice trickles into my heart at that. Of course they’ve done this before. It’s easy to forget your mates’ occupation when they’re giving you sweet kisses and feeding you avo toast. “She would have killed me,” I say carefully as Scythe holds open a door. “I got out of there just in time.” Xander had gotten me out.
“Our hit list is long,” Savage sighs, cracking his knuckles as we head inside the medical centre. “But my urge to murder them all is longer.”
I grumble something dark under my breath. How many enemies do I have, exactly? I need a journal or a planner of some sort to keep track of them. I can get Minnie and Stacey to help me with a colour-coded spreadsheet.
Hobbling into the medical centre, some of the healthcare staff passing by give me worried looks. But if dragon healing couldn’t completely fix my leg, then they certainly aren’t going to be able to help me, and I’m not up for talking about it.
Scythe leads us into the section where they keep the private rooms for more sensitive or unstable patients and knocks on a door. A chair scrapes and footsteps hurry to the door. It opens to reveal an older nurse, her silver hair tied back into a bun. Her sharp eyes take us all in.
Lyle asks her for some privacy and she grants it, taking her notes with her. It’s not until I step into the room that it hits me.
The room, Raquel lying effectively comatose on the hospital bed with multiple monitors and IVs running reminds me of my mother under Naga House.
My breakfast threatens to depart my throat and I clutch at my chest, turning away for a moment. It’s too soon. And this is my fault. I lunge for the bathroom door, and barely make it in time to the toilet, managing to twist my right leg in the process. I heave and scream into the toilet, waving Lyle away when he tries to comfort me.
I don’t deserve the help, not when I made this happen. Savage pulls my hair off my face and I allow it. Someone hands me tissues, which I clutch as I stare unseeing into the porcelain. I think of all the possibilities, all the times I could have tried to save my friend, tried to make a difference somehow.
“You were a prisoner there,” Savage says softly. “You couldn’t have done anything.”
I wipe my face, the acidic burn in my throat sharpening my focus. “I did this,” I say firmly. “If I hadn’t left, Raquel wouldn’t have come after me.”
Savage exhales heavily. “I was with them, Aurelia. This is on me.”
I frown up at him, pushing to my feet. “What?”
For the first time that I’ve known him, Savage averts his gaze, and watching him closely, I see that his neck is slowly turning pink. His voice is tight when he says. “I took Raquel to Drakos Estate and they never even thought to say no. I…saw the trap too late and couldn’t get them out in time. They screamed, but I couldn’t— I couldn’t?—”
Fuck.
I pull my wolf into my arms. Savage has taken this personally.
“He comes here every day,” Lyle says into my mind, “to see how Raquel is. He managed to find a specialist and they’ll be coming from interstate in a few days to do an assessment. He’s really trying, angel.”
And I’d just made this worse. “I’m sorry,” I say to Savage. “But this will always be on me.”
I take his hand and we head back into the main room, where I sit next to Raquel’s still body, taking their hand in mine as Savage sits next to me, his face solemn.
After ten minutes, the nurse returns to do Raquel’s half hourly observations, so we have to leave. In silence, I squeeze Savage’s hand and he squeezes mine back.
After the medical clinic, my leg seems to hit the end of its threshold for working properly and Lyle ends up having to hover me through the academy hallways. I feel like a ghost, my toes floating two centimetres off the wooden floor, passively travelling through the hallways. It makes me want to shift into a bird, but some of these hallways in the oldest part of the academy aren’t wide enough for outstretched wings.
“The headmistress isn’t feeling her best these days,” Lyle says as we get into the elevator that will take us to the executive offices. Lyle has apparently taken up his old office again, but his old apartment remains unused as he’s been staying with his bond-brothers. “Something about the bonding plane being darkened.”
My gut roils again when I hear it. I haven’t actively used my phoenix powers since The Collector’s house, but think I understand what Lyle means. And I can’t help but feel this is also my fault.
The effects of what happened between Xander and me feel like sinister tentacles that have stretched out in every direction. So many people have been affected by it.
When we reach the headmistress’ office, she opens the door with an orange shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, bluish circles under her eyes.
Alarmed, I examine her appearance and the power around her. It feels tight, like dry skin. The phoenix in me flares outward, golden fire sparking up, recognising her pain.
“Aurelia,” Celeste says in welcome, and to my surprise, she pulls me in, her arms wrapping tightly around me. Why does her grip feel desperate?
“Celeste,” I say quietly.
She holds my face in her hands. “There are many things I want to say, but the first is that you must not let your guard down.”
I search her golden gaze. “What do you mean?”
“They have hurt you,” she says. “I know that. I can see that. Your strength is profound, Aurelia, but do not let them take your light.”
The backs of my eyes burn. Suddenly, I am reminded of Selena and Lady Drakos.
Lyle shifts behind me. “Celeste?—”
“No, let her finish,” I say. “This is important.”
Celeste’s hands slide down to grip my arms. “Did you see him? Did you see Lorian while you were there?”
My heart skips a beat. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
“Was he alive? Was he well?” Her eyes are frantic as they search mine.
“Yes, he was. I… I helped heal him.” Her hands drop from mine and she steps back, suddenly looking ashen. I follow her, worried that she might collapse or worse. “He spoke to me. He was the only light there.”
Celeste’s hands reach for her mouth. “Could you show me?”
I hesitate. My only memory of him isn’t exactly positive, but the desperation in those phoenix eyes makes me nod. I warn her about his condition before sending her a telepathic picture. I’ve not had to do it in a while, so it takes me a second, but I know she receives it when the tears slip from her eyes. Lyle helps her to her chair.
“Phoenixes do not have soul-bonded mates, Aurelia,” she explains quietly. “We wander alone or choose our own. I met Lorian many years ago when—” her eyes flick to me in shared understanding—“he was passing through.” Her shoulders seem to sag, heavy with history. “I knew he’d come back, but Katerina also came across him. Became infatuated with him. I had hoped he’d find me first, but…”
I feel sick to my stomach. Perhaps this is another reason Celeste is unwell. Damien certainly hadn’t been so affected by the darkness on the bonding planes.
“Can I try to help you?” I blurt out.
The headmistress twitches in understanding and surprise. “I wouldn’t think that?—”
“May I try?” I urge. “I’m not physically unwell, as you can see.” I have a fuck tonne of other issues, but I can use my powers just fine.
She gives me a small smile. “Please.”
I nod, coming to stand before her and taking one of her cool hands in mine. My power floods towards her, keen to push away the dark in someone, even if it’s not me. Celeste shudders. There is no exact physical illness I can sense, but much like Lady Drakos, there is something ephemeral that my power seeks out and purges.
Celeste squeezes my hand and sighs, her cheeks flushing. “I feel better, Aurelia. Although I’m not sure what you did.”
“Me neither,” I admit. “But some type of healing was achieved.”
“Thank you.” She studies me with great interest for a while, but under her kind eyes, I don’t feel so much like an interesting bug like I did at Drakos House. Perhaps I feel seen by her, one of the few people to have known Lorian.
Celeste rubs her eyes. “Unfortunately, there is a related matter we must discuss.”
Somehow, I already know what it is.
“Xander is here, Aurelia. And he has a request to make of us.”