C H A P T E R F O R T Y – T W O
C H A P T E R F O R T Y – T W O
Altair
I recline against the infirmary cot, the taste of the third blood bag still lingering on my tongue, metallic and cold—nothing like the rush of warm blood from Olwyn .
Ailith stands over me, her fingers deftly wrapping fresh bandages around my torso. The cuts have mostly sealed, the wounds knitting together slowly, but the witchsilver has done enough damage that my body is still sluggish in its recovery.
Ailith has applied some healing herbs to speed up the process… but they will still scar.
I would take a thousand scars if it meant saving her.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ailith mutters, tightening a bandage a little more aggressively than necessary. “You’re not out of the woods yet. Try any heroics, and you’ll tear these right back open.”
I sigh, tipping my head back against the cot. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
Ailith snorts, her red eyes narrowing at me. “Don’t need to encourage you. You do enough damage to yourself without anyone's help.”
The door to the infirmary flies open with a bang, cutting through the air like a blade, and Iolas storms in. His steps are heavy, charged with anger that I can feel from across the room.
I tense instinctively, despite the fatigue weighing me down. Iolas’s nostrils flare, and he barely spares Ailith a glance before his eyes land on me.
“Leave us,” Iolas growls, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage.
Ailith doesn’t budge. Her eyes flick up, narrowing at Iolas in warning. “I don’t take orders from you, Iolas. I’m not leaving.”
“Fine,” Iolas bites out, jaw clenched, eyes still fixed on me. “You fed from her?”
I close my eyes briefly, bracing myself. Of course this conversation is happening. “Yes,” I say simply, keeping my voice calm, meeting Iolas’s furious stare.
Iolas’s fists clench at his sides. “And you… touched her?”
My brows furrow, and I shake my head immediately. “No. That’s not what happened.”
Iolas steps forward, eyes flashing with accusation. “You know how vulnerable she was! She doesn’t know anything about vampire feeding, Altair. And you—you could’ve—”
My fangs flash before I can stop myself, anger surging through me as I push myself up, ignoring the pain in my body as Ailith tuts at me. “Don’t you dare,” I growl, my voice low and lethal. “Don’t you dare accuse me of taking advantage of her. Or even try and suggest I would harm her.”
Iolas’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t back down. “How can you be sure she knew what she was doing?”
“I told her to stop,” I snap, my voice sharp. “It was her choice. It will always be her choice.”
The words hang between us, thick with tension. My chest heaves slightly, exhaustion mingling with frustration.
Ailith, who’s been watching with her arms crossed, lets out a dry laugh. “You boys done waving your swords around?” she asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Because I’ve got work to do, and frankly, I’m not in the mood for this.”
Iolas shoots her a look but doesn’t respond. His focus is still entirely on me, his anger now laced with something else—fear, concern, maybe even guilt.
“She doesn’t know what any of this means,” Iolas says, his voice lowering but no less intense. “The bond you form when you feed... It’s powerful, Altair. And you’ve never fed from anyone else. She wasn’t ready for that. She might never be.”
I feel my anger cool, but only slightly. I exhale, trying to keep my voice steady. “I know. But I didn’t force her. She wanted to help. And I couldn’t—I wouldn’t have let it go that far without her consent, even if my mind was consumed by the bond.”
Iolas runs a hand through his hair, clearly struggling. His jaw works, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. His gaze flickers away before finally locking back onto mine, frustration evident in every line of his face.
Ailith sighs dramatically, pushing off the counter. “Oh good, the hormone showdown is winding down.” She strolls toward me, her eyes flicking between us. “If you’re done, I still have to finish patching up the king before he decides to bleed all over my nice clean floors.”
I huff out a breath, shaking my head. “Thank you, Ailith,” I mutter, though my tone is wry.
Iolas stands there for another second, his fists still clenched, before he finally steps back. His gaze shifts toward the door. “I’m going to watch over Olwyn.”
Before he can go, I speak again, my voice softer but firm. “I trust her, Iolas. You should too.”