Chapter 27
Oryx
She looked frail, lifeless.
Her tanned skin is now dull and ashen. It reminded me of Veylor’s skin.
While it suited her with her hair, it wasn’t the same. She was riddled with bite and claw marks. Her skin ripped deep to where the meat of her body showed.
My stomach churned with a mix of longing and regret.
It wasn't hunger that twisted me inside out, but the haunting thought that I hadn't been there to save her.
I couldn't hear her cries or sense her suffering.
I was too far away to hear her. Part of me wondered if I could have done something differently, if I should have felt her pain despite the distance.
I trusted Veylor and Benedict’s words that no harm would befall to her in my absence. Yet here she is, lying in Veylor’s bed, her heart slow and barely beating.
I wanted to hate him.
But he too, looked just as devastated.
Was it because he knew how much she meant to me or was it because he cared for her life as well?
His shadows continued to hold her while he flipped through the book on human anatomy. He glanced at her several times, his magic turning her head to check her ears.
I tilted my skull in wonder trying to understand what he was looking for.
Veylor cleared his throat. "I have a way to stitch her up, similar to how I did my own. I'm concerned about her scarring." He placed the book on the table filled with supplies. "Vesper hasn't shared her method with me, and I can't leave these wounds exposed, as humans are susceptible to infection."
Lifting my head from where I had nestled my snout close to my pet's belly, I asked with irritation, "So, what have you been doing with her over the last two days?"
Veylor sighed. "I made her life difficult. I asked her to assist me in selecting matching body parts, which probably complicated her job more than necessary."
I growled and pulled Vesper closer to me.
"I promised you honesty, and there you have it.
" Veylor said as he picked up a cloth to gently clean the dirt off Vesper's arm.
He was cautious around her wound, carefully patting around the deep cut.
But as soon as he reached for a needle and thread, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her away.
Veylor pressed his lips together. "To heal her, I must proceed with this. The needle will pierce her skin and weave through."
I huffed. “Do you not have magik to seal her skin back together? Why must you damage her further by piercing her skin?”
My tongue slipped out of my mouth to lap at her wounds. I paused. It would be selfish of me to taste her in such a vulnerable state.
"My magik has its limitations. I draw from the Under Shadows. I command these Shadows, yet they lack the power to mend. I'm not a healer for spirits that haven't crossed into the afterlife, Oryx. I could assist you, perhaps restore you, but Vesper belongs to a realm unfamiliar to me."
I hummed and watched him take his needle and pierce it through her skin. My hand wrapped around my pet’s thigh but she was so far gone in her sleep that she didn’t even wince. Once Veylor had completed the first wound he took a step back and looked at his work and shook his head.
“It isn’t as good as the ones Vesper has done to Benedict.
” He laid the needle on the metal tray beside him and began cleaning other areas of her arm.
“I wish I had made her teach me the first day, now she will suffer because of my mistakes.” His voice was heavy with concern, his mouth in a deep frown.
I experienced a weight in my chest and attempted to soothe the persistent ache. Why was I overwhelmed with guilt and sadness about this situation? It was his mistake, not mine.
Veylor stood up and stared at the stitching once more. “Oryx, were you there when Benedict was sewn together?”
I nodded.
Veylor walked around the bed and positioned himself before me.
"Since you met Vesper, it's become difficult for me to access your thoughts with my magik.
I'm unsure if this is merely a coincidence or if there's more to it, but I want to delve deeper.
I aim to explore your mind and connect with your memories. "
I reared my head back. While before I did not fully understand the power he wielded over me when he could see in my skull. I didn’t have anything to hide anyway. Then I wanted to give myself all to him but now?
He could see things I did not want him to.
My private time with Vesper.
“For what purpose?”
Veylor sat next to me on the bed and placed his hand on my furry knee. "It's amazing how she stitches so seamlessly. Maybe it's some kind of technique, or perhaps I'm just rusty, but I want her to regain her flawless skin." He turned away from me with a frown.
That was when I realized the guilt I felt hovering my chest was his. I rubbed my chest once more.
Did he truly care?
“Why? Why help her when you have shown so much distaste toward her? Is it just to get into my mind to change my feelings toward her? I won’t have it.” I pushed his arm away and snarled.
Veylor frowned. "If I can't be with you, Oryx, at least allow me to make amends for the harm I caused her, and you as well.
I promise not to manipulate your mind or influence you in any way—I lack the power to do so.
You have become more of yourself than ever before.
All I seek is to access the memory of Vesper stitching Benedict, nothing more.
The decision is yours, and I understand it's a lot to ask.
Even if you decline, I will continue to stitch her.
I just thought it might leave a smaller scar with her techniques. "
Veylor rose from the bed, his shoes clicked against the floor and he fiddled with his tools before he began the next wound.
I had placed my trust in Veylor for many years, and during that period, I remained unharmed. Like me, he was burdened by a lack of connection and haunted by guilt over a past he couldn't alter. He tormented himself for whatever wrong he had done to me.
My tongue licked around my snout. “Do I have your word,” I began.
Veylor paused before he pierced Vesper’s skin.
“That you will only search for the memory of her skill and nothing more?”
Veylor pursed his lips. “On my honor.”
“Also,” I added. “I want you to speak to me more. No more lies, or with holding truths. I feel heavy here.” I pointed to my chest. “It is not mine, rather I believe it is yours.”
Veylor’s lip trembled. “It is. And we can speak more on why that is. Right now, the time is pressing.”
Vesper groaned, her body squirmed under the thin sheet.
I huffed, and took my large hand and set it over her stomach to calm her. “Do what you must to penetrate my mind then, whatever you must do.”
Veylor set down his tools and moved to the other side of the bed.
"In the past, I could instantly connect with your mind, regardless of the distance between us.
But now, your mental strength has grown; it's as if you've erected your own barriers.
I've researched this, and since I crafted your vessel, I know how to breach them.
I need to press my forehead against yours for our minds to connect. May I have your permission to do so?"
As I sat on the bed with him standing before me, our eyes level, I felt like an equal. He sought my consent rather than instructing or commanding me. This was the next phase of whatever this was, and I don't think he understood how significant it was to me.
I inhaled deeply, bracing myself for the moment his skin would meet my skull. In a disturbing, warped sense, I craved his touch. I still experienced that peculiar electric jolt, like lightning striking a lamp post, just as I did when I touched Vesper.
It was all so confusing but I could not deny that I wanted to explore it more.
“Yes,” I nodded. “For Vesper.”
Right now, I had to give Vesper the flawless skin she deserved to have back for my mistake. I promised to protect her and failed.
Veylor leaned in closer, placing his hands on either side of my face.
He gazed into my eyes and rested his forehead against mine.
As soon as his forehead made contact with my skull, my vision went dark.
Instead of seeing the scene where Vesper was stitching up Benedict, I found myself in a completely different setting.
Veylor sat at a long, imposing table, his hand moving frantically across a piece of parchment as he squinted against the unusually bright light that flooded the room.
The glare was almost blinding, casting sharp shadows on the polished surface of the table.
Around him, fae were departing, their laughter echoing through the grand hall.
They playfully slapped each other's backs.
Their garments were bold in color, woven from the finest fabrics, and trailed elegantly along the polished marble floors as they slowly exited, leaving Veylor alone in the harsh glow of the light.
Amidst the vibrant colors and lively atmosphere of the room, he stood out as a stark monochrome figure, as if he had stepped out of an old black-and-white painting. His skin wasn’t gray as it was now, but pale compared to the variety of colors of the other fae.
His presence was cold and unwelcoming, his personality drained of life.
He was the Lord of the Shadow Court. Veylor’s eyebrows furrowed with concentration, creating deep creases on his forehead, and his quill, which had been dancing swiftly across the paper, began to move with deliberate slowness, as though weighed down by the gravity of his thoughts.
I was instantly drawn to him, my heart thundered in my chest.