Chapter 37 #2
I turned, finding Maelsar in the doorway, guilt weighing down his mouth and heavy bags adorning his eyes. “It was an accident, I swear.”
Vaeron cocked his head to the side. “Was it?”
Maelsar looked stricken, his forehead wrinkled with worry. He stepped forward like he was about to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. “You know you're my best friend.”
I looked between the two. Was Vaeron truly mad at him?
“I’m fucking with you, Maelsar,” Vaeron chuckled, then winced at the pull in his chest.
“Fuck you, Vaeron.” Maelsar glowered, closing the rest of the distance and punching him in the shoulder. His bad one, to be precise.
I couldn’t help the grin that spread. For the first time in a long time, I felt…happy. Like everything was going to be okay.
Lyriasthe drifted in a moment later, squealing when she saw Vaeron was awake. We hugged and celebrated. Because without my mate…I would never want to practice Vaela? again. The will to move would vanish. He was the music to my steps. My partner in each dance.
So I hung onto him, my skin pressed to his, as if even an inch of space between us would send me to a pyre. Vaeron too clung to me, as though letting me out of his arms meant I’d never return.
Once the excitement of his recovery lessened, the two stepped back, studying us like we were something rare and exotic.
“I told you we’d get them back together,” Lyriasthe teased Maelsar, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Who knew I’d have to almost kill Vaeron to do it?” he laughed, draping his arm over her shoulder and dragging her into him. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and her nose wrinkled. But she still grinned like she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
“We had reconciled before you took the threads out,” I reminded the pair.
“Not like this,” Maelsar replied, gesturing to how my mate held me in his arms. “How do you feel, Vaeron?”
He sighed, raking a hand through his tangled hair. “I’m relieved to be able to access my Command again. My primary power is little more than wisps, but more sleep will fix that. I hope.”
“How is your…other magic faring?” Maelsar ventured, casting a glance outside like he expected the Hathi to be standing there, peering in.
Vaeron pressed a palm over the center of his well. “It’s there, currently coiled alongside my Angel magic. When I used it a few minutes ago, though, there were changes.”
Maelsar nodded, face drawn with grim acceptance.
“As for physically…” Vaeron peeled the bandage from his arm, revealing the scratches from Vyss had vanished. “Never better.”
Maelsar snorted and shook his head. “Let’s get the healer in to examine you anyway.”
A dull throb echoed down our connection, and I glanced at my mate, his stoic expression betraying nothing of the pain. “I’ll be fine. Besides, we’d have to explain…”
“How do you think you’re alive right now?” Maelsar shot back.
Vaeron’s brows pinched.
“A Hatha islander saw you in distress and fetched Oshenai,” I murmured, giving his forearm a squeeze. “He brought a healer, and the three of them saved you.”
“Fuck,” Vaeron swore, letting his eyes tumble shut. “What do they know?”
“Nothing…yet,” Maelsar said. “I had to promise Oshenai an explanation though.”
My mate nodded, blowing out a long breath. “Fine, fetch the healer. But no one else.”
Maelsar left, returning minutes later with Thalyon, Mayyal hot on their heels. “Goodness, we really ought to move to a different room. This draft can’t be good for you,” she said, glaring at the broken window.
“Let me look him over first,” Thalyon said.
Vaeron’s brows pinched. “Who are you?”
“The male who saved your life. Now if you wouldn’t mind stepping aside,” he said to me.
I raised an eyebrow but did as he asked, mostly because I wanted confirmation that it was safe for my mate to move. How Isra was the disliked one out of the crew, I wasn’t sure. Thalyon’s attitude left something to be desired.
The healer set to work, examining what was left of the wound, prodding the skin, asking Vaeron to move his left arm or twist to the side. Once he was finished, he declared it safe for the Issaraeth to walk on his own.
Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, he slid off the table, Thalyon there to support him as he swayed. “I’ve got this,” he said, taking one step, then another.
We watched him like he might break on the first step. But my mate merely squared his shoulders and strode forward with that same lethal grace he’d always possessed.
Thalyon produced a handful of vials from his bag and handed them to me. “One every few hours for the next two days. Today I’ll brew another batch. He shouldn’t need more than that to make a full recovery.”
“Thank you,” I said, clutching them to my chest.
The male dipped his head to me, then disappeared down the long hall.
Vaeron and Mayyal had gone in a different direction, slow enough that it took no time for the rest of us to catch up.
“Bring us food, but we’re not to be disturbed otherwise,” Vaeron was saying to his housekeeper.
“Of course,” she replied, looking him over like he was her own wounded son.
Had she viewed him that way after his mother’s funeral?
Vaeron never mentioned her, and I wondered if he had kept her at a distance like he had kept most others—except for Maelsar.
“Next time we’re here, see that my mate is taken to my preferred rooms as well. The Herr’s suite should be walled off completely.”
“I’ll make arrangements for it,” she promised.
A guest wing emerged ahead, rows of doors framing either side of the wide hall. Mayyal dipped into a curtsey, promising to return shortly with a meal for us. We followed Vaeron to the room at the end, the entrance already cracked open.
Inside, my shoulders relaxed. This space possessed the life and warmth the former had been lacking.
Vaeron was everywhere—from the haphazard stacks of books to the blades resting on countless surfaces.
It even smelled faintly of stormwood, though he’d told me it had been a decade since he last set foot in the manor.
A fire roared in the hearth, heating the space.
“Made it this morning.” Maelsar shrugged like his thoughtfulness was nothing. “I was betting on you waking up and wanting to be out of your father’s rooms immediately.”
Vaeron grinned, clapping him on the shoulder with his good hand. “What would I do without you, Maelsar?”
“Live, obviously,” he muttered, averting his gaze. Guilt clung to him like a fog that wouldn’t clear.
“It’s okay,” I told him, my tone soft and understanding. “You didn’t mean to. Vaeron lived. And most importantly, the four of us need to strategize about what happens next.”
He looked at me, his aquamarine eyes shining with something I couldn’t place. “Aye, that we do. But first, both of you need food. It’s midday and I don’t think Vaeron has eaten since breakfast yesterday.”
“I’ve gone longer,” my mate protested. “Besides, we need to meet with Oshenai and do whatever is necessary to ensure he allies with us.”
“You need your strength. We can meet with him after,” Maelsar argued.
“Fine,” Vaeron grumbled.
Lyriasthe and I shared an amused look, then burst into a fit of giggles.
“What’s so funny?” Maelsar groused.
“You’re acting like he’s your child,” I managed to get out. Truly, it wasn’t as funny as my doubled-over laughter made it seem, but something about the danger passing and watching the two friends bicker eased the tightness that had cinched my ribs.
“Goddess above,” Maelsar swore, stomping to a chair and throwing himself onto it. “If he wouldn’t be such an asshole, I wouldn’t have to be.”
Vaeron ambled toward an archway that led to the sleeping chamber. “To appease you, I’ll bathe while we wait for food.”
“Take Sylaira with you. Can’t have you passing out and hitting your head. With my luck, that fall would be what kills you,” Maelsar ordered.
Another round of mirth bubbled up from Lyriasthe and me, but I followed my mate regardless. I wasn’t ready for there to be space between us.
Much like when I’d been injured, I helped him out of his pants and into the tub. Dried blood flaked into the water, tinting it pink. I fetched soaps and oils for him, ensuring he had everything he needed.
And then, I sat on the floor beside him, my hand resting on his shoulder, because I needed to know he was here. He was alive.
For now…
The voice in the back of my mind sent an icy chill washing over me. Because I still didn’t know what the sacrifice from my vision was. What would happen when we told Oshenai what had occurred in Sivy. What would happen when we reached the front.
Vaeron and I might have finally agreed to work together, but that didn’t mean the war was won.
Or that peace would ever reign.