Chapter 18
Stadur bloomed like a ghostflower along the forest’s edge, so close and yet still so elusive. I’d flown nearly nonstop for days to reach it, and white thinned to gossamer in my well. Burnout crept across my limbs, freezing the flesh and chilling me from the inside out.
It was by sheer will alone I was still airborne.
Only a fraying light remained around Sylaira’s leg, the last of my power I could offer. My biceps screamed from hours of holding her flush against me—and it was only because of the potions I continued to give her that I was able to carry her at all.
Smoke curled from chimneys like beacons of warmth and safety. The rain had not relented, not since before Sylaira tried and failed to run from me. In fact, it seemed to have only intensified since our bond snapped into place.
My vision tunneled to how the streams of heat undulated in the air as I devoured the remaining distance to them with strained, desperate wingbeats. The last of the trees disappeared behind me, revealing the nearly-empty city square, the residents all wisely keeping indoors against the deluge.
To my utter shock, a very familiar figure stalked through the center, barking orders at a group of soldiers.
But his gaze was intently fixed on a female, hands wrapped around the bars of her cage, lips curled back from her teeth.
She flung harsh words in his direction, those behind her cowering as my second-in-command approached.
I glided to a stop beside his cartful of Angels. The moment my feet touched the ground, fatigue forced the feathers into my back.
Maelsar started at the sight of me, the Elessarum forgotten. “Vaeron?” And then his attention fell on the bundle in my arms. “Is that—”
“Sylaira,” I growled, too exhausted to temper the rage that came with speaking her name.
Maelsar took a half-step forward, brows dipping together at the sight of her unconscious, broken form.
A scream tore my attention back to the defiant female. Her sky-blue eyes stormed. “Look what you have done to her!” She gestured toward the Seer, bronze shackles rattling against the metal of her confinement.
The others scrambled to their feet, lightning cracking the sky just in time to highlight my sins. Maelsar gripped my arm and dragged me away from our crew and the group he’d managed to capture in my absence. Their jeers and taunts assaulted our back as we found shelter under a tavern’s overhang.
“Vaeron,” Maelsar said my name again, his voice low and wrapped in warning. “What did you do?”
A muscle jumped in my jaw as I shifted the little fugitive in my arms. “It’s not important. She’s here, that’s what matters.”
“Tell me. You know I won’t tell anyone if you lost control. Especially not Iaoth. She’s punished you enough, even if you committed a crime—”
I whipped my head to the side and glared at him. “Do you think I forced myself on her?” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You think I would–”
The rest caught in my throat, and I cursed my exhaustion for fracturing my mind.
Maelsar raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t know what the fuck to think. Just tell me what happened.”
Thunder rumbled overhead, mirroring my ominous mood. I opened my mouth to say the words, to admit aloud what had occurred. Because Maelsar didn’t know. How could he, when even I hadn’t?
No, Sylaira had kept that information all to herself.
My lips thinned at the reminder. I tried to force them apart again. Once. Twice. A third time. I blew out a breath, and with it, my confession.
“She’s my fated mate.”
Maelsar’s jaw dropped. His mist-gray eyebrows shot up his forehead. “This isn’t fucking funny, Vaeron.”
“I’m not joking.” I returned my attention to the Seer, still passed out in my arms, for the briefest of moments. “I wish I was.” The words came out quiet, barely audible over the tempest. “Because there’s no way she’ll ever love me now.”
Resentment, hot and sludgy, boiled in my veins. Days of flying, alone with my thoughts, had only made me angrier about the whole situation.
Maelsar’s throat bobbed. He flicked his attention toward the caged Angels before meeting my gaze again. “We can protect her from Iaoth. From what she’s making you do. We’ll find a way forward, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Shame curled inside me. In all the madness, I hadn’t even fully considered what would happen when we returned to Sivy. “We’ll solve that problem another time. As for now, I need to get her inside, dry, and healed.”
“She’s injured?” my second-in-command clarified.
“Aye, something with her knee. It happened when our bond snapped into place,” I sighed, weariness tugging on every fiber of my being. And my emotions too. The past few days—fuck, the past few weeks—had frayed my nerves. Ever since I spotted Sylaira everything had been unraveling.
I wasn’t ready to admit that they’d never be as they were before either.
“Had to see the healers myself,” he grumbled, tugging at the collar of his jacket and revealing angry red welts.
“Apparently not all Elessarum are above defending themselves with their nails if necessary. Caught whispers of this group and Iaoth wanted me to grab them while Calrien took the others to Sivy.”
I grunted, recalling how Sylaira had bit me, and followed his attention back to the other defiant female. “She seems feisty.”
“That’s one way to describe her,” he sighed, and there was something I couldn’t quite name woven into his words. “The Korona is expecting me back in the capital, like yesterday. Should I tell her you’ll be a few days behind me?”
I exhaled, long and low, through my nose. I needed more than a few days to replenish this massive outpouring of magic. And Sylaira likely needed more than that to heal enough to travel again.
“Tell her I’m two weeks behind. That way she can be pleasantly surprised if I arrive early.”
Maelsar snorted and shook his head. “You are cutting it awfully close to–”
My heated glare cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “We are not talking about that. And you are not to tell my sister anything other than I have the Seer in my possession.”
A low, rueful laugh escaped him. “Do you think I have a death wish? Oh, no, Vaeron, you have to tell Iaoth about your new–” he looked around us to ensure his next word wouldn’t be overhead “–bond. But I’ll make some excuses so I can stay behind until you arrive if she tries to send me out again.”
“Thank you, Maelsar.” I meant the words too. His support would be absolutely necessary, if only for my sanity and nothing else. Sylaira moaned, drawing my attention in an instant. “I need to get her to the healer. See you soon?”
“Aye,” he replied, ducking into the downpour again. “Goddess save you, Vaeron.”
“You are honored by our divine creator, Maelsar,” I grumbled back the traditional Angel goodbye.
He shot me a mischievous grin before shouting at his crew to get moving.
In one smooth motion, he mounted his horse, the gelding tossing his sopping mane as he set off.
I watched the group roll out of Stadur before shuffling my mate in my arms and preparing to race across the square to the apothecary.
Lightning cracked as I emerged from beneath the shelter.
Rain pelted us both, the wind drawing a deep shudder from Sylaira.
I curled myself over her, trying to keep her as still as possible while protecting her from the elements.
By the time I reached the door, an icy chill had dug its way into my bones.
Thank the Goddess the healer threw open the door for me, ushering us inside. “Herr R?viel, it has been some time,” he said as he shut and latched the door behind him. A hearth roared off to one side, necessary on such a frightful day. Summer storms were intense, and this one was no exception.
“Aye, it has. This Seer needs urgent care,” I told him, remaining in place when all I wanted was to bring us toward the warmth. As it was, a puddle formed beneath me on the tidy wood planks.
“Let’s get her upstairs and dry,” he said, stretching his arms and magic out to take her.
My hold tightened, and I inched her away from him, almost without thinking. “I’ve got her.” My words came out sharper than intended, and I berated myself. Normally I handed off Seers and Elessarum without a second thought.
The healer regarded me for a long moment, assessing eyes sweeping over my face and my form like he suspected something. I was a wild mess, but surely he couldn’t see the angst of our bond written in my expression.
Finally, he sighed. “Leave your boots then,” he instructed.
I quickly heeled out of them and followed him up to the infirmary, every muscle screaming in protest. But I couldn’t drop her. Couldn’t cause her any more pain.
Moments away from relief, Vaeron. Don’t fucking quit now.
The loft was blissfully devoid of others in need of tending. But I wasn’t taking any chances, not with her. “I’d like a private room for her please.”
The healer glanced over his shoulder. “Certainly.” From his pocket he produced a ring of keys, going to the closest door and unlocking it. It swung inward on silent hinges, revealing a clean space, smelling faintly of citrus and antiseptic.
“I’ll examine and treat her out here, if you don’t mind. Then once she’s dry we can let her rest in there.”
“Fine,” I told him.
He pulled wool blankets from a nearby bin and situated them on a wooden table, then gestured for me to place Sylaira there.
With the gentlest care, I did. My muscles breathed a sigh of relief when her weight was out of my arms. But the moment I took a step back, the chain linking me to her rattled in my chest.
My hand flew to the spot just over my magic, pressing like it could quell the thrashing beast punishing me from separating from my mate.
“I gave her a poppy mixture that would keep her unconscious until I could get her to you,” I conveyed, continuing my retreat toward the roaring hearth. “She injured her knee, and I think her ribs too, in a tumble into a ravine.”