Chapter 6 #2
Aurora drank greedily. Merciful Triad, her head was spinning. She was sticky, hot, and achy. All she wanted was to sit in a bath of cool water until the scattered wisps of her mind gathered together. How had she gotten here? Was what she remembered real, or was it a figment of her dreams?
“What happened?” she asked. “Why does everything ache?”
Theron tensed, his voice clipped.
“Your leg was badly infected before the raid. I’ve been treating you for several days.”
She squinted up at him as her memories slipped into place.
The fantasy that he’d never lied to her, that his betrayal had been the nightmare, evaporated.
Her fool heart broke anew. Aurora bit her lip to keep it from trembling.
She’d allowed Orithyia to maim her for visions of death—it had all been useless, and now the people she’d bled and suffered for were gone.
Worst of all, Theron knew it. She would never get the allies she needed now.
Aurora crushed down the part of her that naively hoped Theron could be her true ally. He’d saved her life, but to what end?
“Why?” she asked.
“You let the high priestess attach a spiked cuff to your leg, and then you allowed some hack healer try to cover up the maiming. Except she didn’t heal you, she just trapped decaying tissue inside your leg and let it fester,” he replied, his hand tightening on the reins.
Aurora nearly gasped when she met his gaze. Tormented. It was the only word for the look in his golden eyes, for the aching tenderness and fury she saw there.
“I had to reopen your wounds and cut it out of you. You were so weak. You almost died. I nearly…you were lucky to keep your leg. Do you understand? I almost had to decide whether to try to keep you whole or keep you alive!”
She’d nearly died…again. Was it luck or fate that she’d survived?
Aurora squeezed her eyes shut. The reasons she’d put herself through it all seemed so foolish now.
They’d known how wounded she’d been, how close to death, and still they’d demanded more pain and blood.
As if Flora’s minions could ever be her allies.
She was nothing but a tool to them. The queen didn’t care about Drakon, about the future of Trisia.
She was blind to anything but her own ambitions, much like the nobles and soldiers she’d sent.
And Orithyia? The high priestess acted as if the army were her only hope, as if it only natural she should risk life and limb in the hopes of winning their loyalty.
But it was not she who needed them, but they who needed her.
Aurora, along with Hyllus, were the only ones who could stop Drakon and the cycle of calamity.
If they couldn’t see that, then she didn’t want them stymying her.
And what of Theron? What was she to make of him?
This man was full of contradictions—a cruel bargainer, demanding obedience in one breath, threatening her with his next, and stopping at nothing to snatch her from Death’s grip when it mattered.
Why was it that this man had been given the ability to tilt her world on its axis?
She could only stare at him in horrified confusion.
“Why did you save me?”
“What kind of question is that?!” he snarled.
“Without me, you could have kept your beasts…” she said, stunned by his anger.
“Damn you, Aurora! I’ve told you countless times now, I never created Drakon, and I ordered the beasts destroyed! The only one clinging to lies is you!”
“If that’s true, then why? After everything…we’re enemies, aren’t we?”
His face darkened. Theron looked away sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as his breath hissed out from between clenched teeth.
“The raid…it was my fault. I thought to hire bandits to steal Viridian supplies. I didn’t expect the violence, but it was my fault you were in danger.”
“You bastard!” Another betrayal. One that had almost cost her life. All to steal some supplies. She would have nightmares for the rest of her days!
His brow pinched with guilt, his breath shuddering.
“And I didn’t tell you about the beasts.
I…I apologise for that. I realize my actions pushed you into the arms of Flora and Orithyia.
But you understand that they’re not your allies now, don’t you?
It was not I who demanded you maim yourself to provide me with visions, but Flora’s dogs.
It was I who fought to keep you alive, not Orithyia or her paladins, who left you to die in her tent! ”
Aurora blinked in surprise. She reached up to his face and pulled him closer, urging him to meet her gaze.
“Say it again,” she said.
“Which part did you not understand? Your so-called allies are scum who—”
“No. Before. Say it again.”
“Aurora—”
“Theron...” she pleaded.
His eyes softened almost imperceptibly, his gaze roaming her face.
“I…apologise.”
She must be dreaming again. Theron would never apologise to her—his blasted pride would never allow for it. But if this were a dream, she would indulge in her most impossible fantasies.
“For what?”
He scowled at her.
“Damn it, woman, I’m not—”
“For. What?” she pressed.
A flare of anger heated his gold eyes until he took another calming breath. He was still glaring at her, but it had been leached of any real ill feeling.
“For the raid. And…for not telling you about the beasts,” he grumbled.
Tears gathered in her eyes. This stupid man. This enormous, pig-headed fool! She gripped his tunic in her hands as she bit back her sobs.
“Why didn’t you tell me about them? How could you let me find out that way? From Orithyia?!”
Theron looked away from her, clenching his jaw.
No, she wasn’t going to let him get away from her that easily.
He’d given her the apology she’d desperately wanted, and like a woman dying of thirst, she needed more than that first drop of water.
She needed everything from him—every answer, every explanation.
Aurora grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to meet her gaze.
“Don’t you dare look away from me!”
He resisted her touch, shaking her hands from him. But she was not so easily deterred. She held his head firmer this time, no matter that the effort made her limbs shake.
“Answer me, Theron. You owe me that!”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, his look pained.
“No!”
“Because I wanted you to love me!”
Aurora gasped. This selfish bastard.
“How could you expect me to love a lie?!”
“Easier than you could have loved a master of monsters!”
It made her sick to think he had the right of it.
Had she known all along, she never would have opened her heart to him.
Now that she had, it was tangled and twisted around him no matter how much she struggled against it.
Love and hatred, hope and despair. He was all those things at once, her mind unable to reconcile that her heart held it all, could be a cup that ran over with the sweetest wine and the bitterest poison.
“And now what? How am I ever supposed to trust you again?”
“Have I not proven myself? I came for you! I saved your life! I’ve done all in my power to protect you from those who would harm you! Is that not enough?”
Merciful Triad, she wished it were. But this was a man capable of lying to her about the thing that mattered most in spite of the fact that they were not only fated but bound by Passion.
As much as she wished she could forgive, she couldn’t live in denial of what he was capable—of what he’d done. Her heart was a pit of bitter despair.
“No…it’s not.”
“Then what? What am I supposed to do?” he asked, barely controlling his temper.
She covered her face with trembling hands and groaned. When had she begun shaking all over? When had her heart started pounding in her ears?
“I don’t know.”
He grabbed her wrist and inhaled sharply, as if he were about to continue the fight. She braced herself for it, but he paused. His grip gentled, and instead of unleashing a tirade, Theron sighed.
“You’re exhausted. We’ll camp here for the night.”
“But it’s the middle of the day.”
“Look ahead,” he said, raising his chin.
She turned to see a bank of dark clouds headed their way.
“Better we make camp before it hits.”
Theron called a halt to the march. The Aureans had the royal tent up in record time.
Theron gave her into the care of the attendants with great reluctance and orders to alert him if her health worsened.
She’d expected their disgust and hostility.
After all, it was her fault he’d raced into the thick of the raid to find her when she should have been with Myrina.
But they treated her gently, kindly, as if she were made of spun glass.
It was sympathy she didn’t deserve, not after everything that had happened.
When she was bathed and dried and clothed, the winds picked up outside.
By the time she was propped up in bed and served a simple dinner, the storm had hit in earnest. Rain pounded on the fabric of the tent like a steady drumbeat.
In front of an audience, Aurora kept her swirling thoughts to herself.
She didn’t even dare look over as the attendants bathed him and set out a plate for him at the table.
Whatever strange new place she found herself in with Theron, it felt wrong to speak of it in the presence of others.
She wasn’t even certain how they’d come here, only that she didn’t know how to move forward, or even if she should.
His betrayals remained—as did hers, she supposed.
So did Drakon. What came once those had been dealt with was anyone’s guess.
“Do you wish to spend the night in Myrina’s tent?” Theron asked as the attendants cleared her dishes away.
She jumped. They were the first words he’d said to her in more than an hour. Cautiously, she looked up.
“Am I allowed to?”
He rubbed a hand down his face. He was seated across the tent at the dining table. She’d not noticed it before, but under his eyes were dark circles. If he’d been caring for her this whole time, he was likely exhausted.