Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Ishould have no idea where I’m going, but somehow my feet know the way, as if I’ve walked the route in a dream.
I race through long corridors and around hard turns, past stunning artwork, and statues so perfect they seem alive.
My lungs burn, and my bare feet slap against cold stone, but I don’t slow.
I can’t. With every second that passes, Chase has less time, and I have the answer burning in my mind like a brand.
I run until I’m finally there, standing outside the ornate double doors of dark wood shot through with veins of silver that catch the moonlight and throw it back like captured stars.
Adric’s suite.
I pound on the door with both fists, screaming his name. Half of me is terrified someone will hear and drag me away. The other half wants someone to hear so they can go find him if he’s not here.
“Adric!” My voice cracks. “Adric, please!”
Dammit, where is he?
I’m about to race back the way I came, this time hunting for any castle worker who can find the man I need, when the door swings open.
And there he is.
Adric stands in the doorway wearing a robe of deep burgundy silk that hangs open at the chest, revealing smooth skin and the kind of body that should be illegal. His dark hair is slightly mussed, and his silver eyes are alert despite the late hour—or early morning, I have no idea anymore.
“Cora.” His voice is calm, but I see the flash of concern cross his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I need your help.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Chase is dying, and I found the cure, but I need you.”
He doesn’t waste time with questions. He steps aside and ushers me in with one hand, but I don’t move. Instead, I grab the material of his robe and tug him toward me, closing the distance between us.
“The cure,” I say, breathless. “It’s his own untainted blood.” I shove the book I’m still clutching into his hands, my finger jabbing at the passage. “You have to help me. Help him.”
He takes the book, his eyes scanning the text. When he looks up, his expression is carefully neutral. “My love, I am sorry. The cure requires his untainted blood. There is no way to remove the stain left by the wolf. His blood is tainted.”
“I know,” I say, my heart pounding. “But yours isn’t.”
His brow furrows. “My blood?”
“Don’t you see? You were one being. You and Chase—you were the Guardian. The same blood ran through your veins because you shared the same body. It’s the same.”
“I assure you,” he says slowly, “my brother and I are very different.”
“You were the Guardian,” I insist, my voice rising with desperation. “You were one body, weren’t you? One being?”
“We were.” His jaw tightens. “And that was so long ago the cosmos has forgotten it.”
“He hasn’t.” The words come out raw. “It still hurts him. What you did. That you left him. That you broke what you were and walked away.”
Adric says nothing. He turns to the window, the orange glow of the five moons giving him an eerie, powerful quality. I hurry to stand by him, noting how the light catches his eyes and makes them look almost molten.
“Please.” I move closer, shoving the book back into his hands. “You can save him. I know you can. Please, just read it. Tell me I’m not wrong.”
He’s silent for a long moment, his eyes moving over the page. I hold my breath, my heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. Then he looks up at me, and something shifts in his expression.
“So it appears,” he says quietly.
Relief crashes through me so hard my knees nearly buckle. “You’ll do it, then? You’ll cure him?”
My heart pounds, and one more stray tear streaks down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping it away. “Please, Adric. If you care anything for me at all, please save him.”
“You love him.” It’s not a question.
I hesitate, but I owe him the truth. All I can hope is that the truth won’t cost Chase his life. “Yes.”
“I see.”
That isn’t a no. I move closer—close enough to touch him, and I do—my hand on his arm, my eyes locked on his. “Please, Adric. Whatever the price, I’ll pay it. Just save him. He’s your brother. He’s a good man. Don’t let him die.”
He studies my face for a long moment, his expression unreadable. When he speaks, the words are soft and ruthless. “On one condition.”
My stomach drops, but I don’t look away. “What price?”
“Your hand.” He pauses, letting the words sink in. “You will be my Bride. The betrothal ceremony will take place in the morning. You understand the magics behind that ceremony. Once betrothed, I will no longer be bound to this castle and its grounds.”
I nod. “I know.”
“And you must also know that consummation of our marriage will finally bring down the barriers. I wish for you to know these things. Now that you do, you have a choice—you can be my Bride and save my brother, or you can walk away, and let him die.”
My heart stutters, then slams against my ribs. And yet somewhere in me, something low and treacherous isn’t unhappy. It may even be eager.
I stiffen, then force myself to meet his gaze head-on. “You require payment for saving your brother?” My voice is cold. “Fine. I’ll be your thirty pieces of silver. I’ll marry you. Only give him his life.”
The way he exhales tells me he didn’t expect me to agree that easily. “Because you love him.”
“Yes.” The word is firm. True. “Because I love him.”
We don’t waste another breath. He crosses the room and snatches up a blade from a table—nothing ceremonial, just a sharp thing that will do the job.
Then we’re moving fast through corridors that no longer feel like a maze.
I barely register where we’re going. All I can think about is Chase, dying, and the fact that I might actually be able to save him.
When we arrive, it’s clear that Chase is worse.
So much worse. His skin gleams with fever, sweat-soaked and pale except where the flush of infection rides his cheeks.
His breath comes shallow and fast, and the wound—god, the wound looks uglier in this light.
The darkness has spread, seeping outward from the gashes like spilled ink, staining the skin around it that sickly orange-brown.
Terror engulfs me, but I shove it away and cross to him in three quick steps.
“Hey,” I whisper, and the word cracks. “I’m here. I found it. You’re going to be okay.”
Adric doesn’t ask permission. He steps to the far side of the bed, draws the blade across his own wrist with a clean, decisive line, and holds the bleeding cut above Chase’s mouth.
“Drink,” he says..
Chase’s eyes fight their way open. They find me first, confused and unfocused. Then they slide to Adric and the blood welling from his brother’s wrist. For one heartbeat, there’s only stubbornness in his expression. Resentment.
Then something else. Trust, maybe. Or perhaps just the desire to live. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he parts his lips.
I lift his head gently, cradling it in my hands, and hold him steady as Adric’s blood runs dark and hot over Chase’s tongue and down his throat. I don’t breathe. I don’t blink. I just watch and pray and count each swallow like it’s a miracle.
When Adric pulls back, he smears what’s left of the blood over the wound itself, his jaw tight.
“Come on,” I whisper, my hand on Chase’s forehead. “Come on, please.”
For a terrible moment, nothing happens.
Then Chase writhes, his back arching off the bed, a strangled sound tearing from his throat. I’m terrified I got it so very wrong. That I’ve somehow made the venom stronger. That it’s refusing to let go.
“Chase!” I press my hand harder against his forehead, his skin hot enough to burn. “Hold on, please hold on.”
Then a shiver ripples through him so hard it shakes the bed and he cries out in agony.
Terror cuts through me, then slowly fades as the ugly shadow around the gashes thins, recedes, vanishes like smoke, and clean skin blooms in its wake.
His breath evens out. Then his lashes flutter and he blinks like a man waking from a bad dream.
He squints up at me. “Cora?” His voice is rough, barely more than a rasp.
Then he sees Adric standing on the other side of the bed, the cut on his wrist already closing, the blood drying like a line of ink on pale skin.
Something complicated moves through Chase’s face, and I’m not sure if it’s resentment or gratitude. It might even be love.
“Why?” The single word holds a thousand questions.
“You are my brother.”
It isn’t the whole answer, though. His gaze slides to me for a fraction of a heartbeat, and I hear the word he doesn’t say as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud.
My Bride.
Chase swallows hard and looks back at me. His eyes are clearer now, focused, searching. “What did it cost?”
“All that matters is you’re here.” I stroke his hair back from his forehead, the gesture automatic and tender. He’s cool under my palm, the fever already gone. “You’re alive. You’re healed.”
“Cora.” His hand catches mine. “What did you promise him?”
I can’t answer that. Not now. Not with those eyes on me, looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
“Sleep,” I whisper instead. “You need to rest. You’re healed, but you need sleep.”
As if my words are a spell, his eyes slip closed, the exhaustion claiming him.
His body relaxes, his breathing shifting into the steady rhythm of deep sleep.
I watch him for a moment longer, memorizing the miracle of it—the rise and fall of his chest, the color returning to his face, the peaceful stillness that comes with true rest instead of fever dreams.
Then I stand, my legs unsteady beneath me. I’m still wearing only the thin nightgown I’d thrown on when I left his room, and my bare feet are cold on the stone floor.
I hug myself as I watch Chase sleep, now safe, because of Adric. And because of the price I’m about to pay.
A soft knock sounds, and Adric opens it to reveal the healer. “Sire,” she whispers. “Is true?”
“My brother is cured,” Adric confirms.
She moves to the bedside, her hands hovering over Chase’s chest, his leg. “He is still weak. He will sleep much. At least two nights, maybe more. Body needs rest to finish healing.”
I look at Adric. “Thank you.”
His head tilts. “You thank me even though I will claim my price?”
I nod, breathing hard.
Our eyes lock, and a smile dances at the corner of his mouth. “Soon,” he says, then turns and walks out of the room, leaving me to wonder when he will take his payment.
And right then, I hate myself a little, because I’m hoping it will be soon.