Chapter 29
· King Soren ·
I stand by Aubrey’s side as I place her on the bed after drying her off as best I can, my gaze fixed on her writhing form. Every convulsion of her body sends a spike of guilt through my chest.
“Aubrey,” I whisper, reaching out to brush a damp strand from her forehead. She flinches at my touch, a low moan of pain escaping her lips.
Her heart pounds wildly, each beat echoing in my ears. I can sense her pain, feel it as if it were my own. Her breaths come in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with the effort to breathe through her pain.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, though I know she can’t hear me. “It has to be done; you don’t understand right now but you will,” I promise her. For what I have planned, she can’t be vulnerable, she can’t bear his mark.
The memory of Rhett’s smug face flashes in my mind, and I clench my fists. That monster had no right to claim her. But now, watching Aubrey suffer, I wonder if I’m any better.
Her body arches suddenly, a scream tearing from her throat. I reach for her hand, holding it tightly.
“Stay with me, Aubrey. You’re strong. It will end.”
Even as I say the words, doubt gnaws at me. The blood-laced wine was supposed to ease her transition, make the bonding smoother. I miscalculated, and now she’s paying the price even with me feeding her my blood. I should have given her more beforehand.
I watch helplessly as another spasm wracks her body.
What have I done to her? She’s becoming something new, something tied to me in ways I don’t fully comprehend.
And it’s killing her. Killing who she used to be.
A worry I didn’t even know existed forms. What if she hates me for what I’m making her into?
What if she doesn’t want me? Even as those thoughts flit through my mind, I dismiss them.
Even through her pain, she is looking to me for comfort.
“I won’t leave you,” I promise, squeezing her hand as I lay next to her.
Her eyes flutter open for a moment, unfocused and glazed with pain. Does she even recognize me? Or am I just another hurting her.
I know the danger she’s in. I can feel her life force wavering, struggling against the change. She needs me – my blood, my strength – to survive this.
As I watch her suffer, my heart constricts. I bite into my wrist, reopening the wound I’ve been using to feed her. The sharp pain is nothing compared to what she’s enduring.
“Aubrey,” I whisper, pressing my bleeding wrist to her lips. “You need to drink. Please.”
Her eyes remain closed, but instinct takes over. She latches onto my wrist, drawing my blood in desperate gulps. I stroke her hair, trying to soothe her.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Take what you need.”
As she drinks, I wonder if this is truly saving her or just prolonging her agony. The bond between us pulses, raw and new, but it’s not enough. Her body is fighting the change, rejecting what should be healing her.
“I won’t lose you,” I murmur, more to myself than to her. “Not like this. Not after everything.”
Aubrey’s grip on my wrist loosens, and I gently pull away. Her breathing is labored, each inhale a battle. I press my hand to her forehead, feeling the fever raging beneath her skin.
The hours drag on, each moment an eternity of agonizing uncertainty. Aubrey’s whispers of pain pierce the air, her pleas for release tearing at my soul as she begs me to kill her. I hold her hand tightly, my thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin.
“I’m here,” I murmur, leaning close, forcing more of my blood into her.
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused and glassy with pain. “Soren, it hurts. Please…”
My heart clenches. “I know, love. I know. But you have to endure this. Not much longer.” The gashes caused by Bianca are now completely gone.
I brush a damp strand of hair from her forehead, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at me. This is necessary, I remind myself. She’s mine now. This pain, as excruciating as it is, is freeing her from Rhett’s hold.
“You’re doing so well,” I encourage, even as another spasm wracks her body. “Just a little longer.”
Suddenly, the door creaks open. I tense, my protective instincts flaring. Damian storms in, his face a storm of emotions - anger, concern, and unmistakable fury directed at me.
“You marked her, Soren?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Changed her?”
I meet his gaze steadily, though my grip on Aubrey’s hand tightens. “Yes, you knew I was going to,” I snap at him. She kicks the blanket off revealing her naked body to him. He instantly turns while I try to keep her covered.
“But straight away? We don’t even know if she…” my growl makes him pause, his doubts aren’t welcome here. He knows why I need to do this. I can’t have her rabid getting used to her senses when everything goes down.
Before I can explain, Aubrey lets out a heart-wrenching cry, her body arching off the bed. My focus snaps back to her, everything else fading away as I try to soothe her through another wave of pain.
Damian’s eyes flick between Aubrey and me, taking in the scene. His expression shifts, anger melting into something softer as he truly sees Aubrey’s suffering. For a moment, I think he might understand.
Then his brow furrows, concern etching deep lines in his face. “She’s going to be a danger to Max,” he warns, his tone low and filled with worry. “You can’t leave her alone with him, Soren. Not until she learns to control herself.”
I feel my jaw clench, torn between defending Aubrey and acknowledging the truth in Damian’s remark. My gaze drifts back down to her writhing form on the bed. She’s in so much pain, so vulnerable. How can she be a threat to anyone right now?
I know better, I’ve seen newly turned Lycans, driven by instinct and hunger. The thought of Aubrey, my Aubrey, being a danger to my son sends a chill through me.
“I understand,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll make sure she’s never alone with him until we know she’s in control, but for now you need to get the fuck out.”
“This is why you wanted the staff gone.”
“No, I wanted them gone because I don’t want anyone knowing I’ve changed her. Not until the wedding. Now get out, your questions can wait.”
The weight of my decision hangs heavy in the air. I can’t meet Damian’s eyes, my gaze fixed on Aubrey’s trembling form. Her face is contorted in pain, sweat beading on her brow. My heart aches, knowing I’m the cause of her suffering.
Damian sighs, his gaze drifting to Aubrey’s writhing form on the bed.
The muscles in his jaw tighten, a mix of concern and resignation etched across his features.
“I’ll handle the council and talk to Father,” he says, his voice hesitant.
“I’ll let her mother know she is okay because she has been calling me incessantly. ”
I nod, my thoughts are elsewhere. The mark on Aubrey’s skin seems to pulse. My fingers absently trace the outline of my own matching mark.
My brother’s hand suddenly lands on my shoulder making me realize he has moved closer. “For now, focus on helping her through the transition. I’ll take care of the rest.”
As Damian’s footsteps fade, I’m left alone with Aubrey when a scream of agony leaves her. “I know, my love. I’m right here. I’m right here,” I murmur, biting into my wrist and once again forcing my blood into her.