Chapter 35
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule thirty-five: Don’t be a bystander to family feuds.
“Kitten,” Sin growls, warning lacing his tone.
The battle ended hours ago, but much to my surprise, the work didn’t. The scents of blood and smoke still cling to the air, and my hands shake as I press a warm towel to a gash on a freed prisoner’s arm.
We’ve temporarily converted the dining hall into an infirmary, and Rosie is directing the care for the wounded. Many of the former prisoners were hurt during the fighting, and plenty were in desperate need of medical attention after their imprisonment.
We’ve settled into a good flow of work, and I glance over at my pink-haired friend. She’s been quiet ever since I told her Irena was moved. She spreads poultices over wounds, but her gaze is somewhere far beyond these walls. There’s a shadow over her features that wasn’t there in the Shadow Realm.
Honestly, I think she’s holding up amazingly. I can’t even imagine how devastating it would feel to be separated from your mate for so long, only to have them ripped away from you when you finally get close.
Exhaustion rolls through me, and I hope my other friends are doing okay. There wasn’t time for a joyful reunion after the battle. But thankfully, between Ragna and Morgana, the post-battle organization has been running like a well-oiled machine.
I’ve never been more grateful to be demoted in my life.
Damien and Magnus are sweeping through the castle with Ragna, looking for anyone still hiding.
Then they’ll start questioning our temporary detainees, to separate innocent bystanders from those in league with Need.
Magnus is certain he can tell the difference, simply by reading their emotions.
Hopefully, it means no one will be locked in a cell for too long.
Morgana is working on building new wards, and Arianna is going to join her after handling Cerberus.
When we left the front courtyard, the murder-puppy was still gorging himself on injured guards. A small part of me is concerned by how Arianna seemed loath to stop him.
Mostly, though, I want to know how my somewhat psychotic bestie is planning to control the giant, mostly murderous, three-headed dog. But when I asked, she shoved me toward the castle, muttering that “micromanaging isn’t cute.”
Her hands were caked in dried blood when she did it. I didn’t push back.
Freed prisoners have been steadily trickling in and out of the castle grounds. A few hundred have families they want to check on. And since many are too weak to apparate, or simply don’t have the ability, volunteers have been working tirelessly to get them home.
Others are helping with castle clearing, and even now, more people are arriving at the infirmary, asking Rosie if they can help.
Morgana suggested I help with healing, so I’ve been busy cleaning injury after injury. I’m pretty sure she meant I should use my Creator power, but after what happened earlier, I’m terrified to touch that energy.
At first, I thought it was miraculous that I didn’t kill anyone when I tore the castle apart. Until, of course, I voiced the thought to Morgana. She shrugged and noted that anyone in the crossfire probably wouldn’t have left a body behind.
Her words sent ice up my spine.
I definitely should not have been entrusted with that much power.
Then again, after meeting Clotho, I’m not surprised.
She seems unqualified for her job.
I haven’t seen the Fate since we escaped the prison, but I’m assuming she went to her sisters. I won’t pretend I’m eager to see her again.
My forearms cramp as I wring out the cloth.
How long has it been since I slept for more than a few broken hours?
I think the answer depends on whether I can count being knocked out as sleeping.
It probably counts.
My body definitely hasn’t gotten the memo that we’re safe. It feels like I’m riddled with bullet holes, and every breath I take causes them to expand, sending more of my lifeblood spilling to the floor.
I think it’s just an adrenaline crash.
But I can’t stop.
If I do, I know the trauma will catch up to me. Already, I can see Leon’s crazed eyes every time I blink. The last time I paused for more than a few minutes, I could feel his breath ghosting against my skin.
Keeping busy is the only thing stopping me from crumbling.
“Kitten,” Sin warns again, giving a pointed look at my trembling hands.
He’s sitting beside me, using his Destroyer powers to remove bacteria and debris from wounds. Our bodies are pressed against each other, and even though this might not be the most appropriate place to cuddle, the physical contact feels like a tether to reality.
He’s the only thing stopping me from dissociating completely. Still, I can’t keep being selfish. I know he’s needed for more important duties.
When we have a short lull between patients, I bring it up again, “Sin, I’m okay, really.”
Lie.
“You should go help with the wards,” I urge.
He barely spares me a glance. “No.”
I swallow at his abrupt answer. It’s the same one he’s been giving me since I started to prod him. And even though I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with Sin when he’s less than chatty, I thought we were past that.
Doubt starts to well up in me, and I’m still trying to shove it back down when he finally turns to me.
His gaze softens, even as it’s lined with concern. “Family members of the prisoners have arrived to help. You need food and rest. Come on.”
Gently, he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. His gaze momentarily snags on my missing finger, and rage flickers across his expression, just for a second before softening again.
There’s an older woman behind us, and her warm amber eyes meet mine. Her gray hair is pulled back in a low bun, and she’s holding a pile of clean cloths. From her slitted pupils, I’m pretty sure she’s from the Beast Realm.
“He’s right, Your Grace. I’ve come to offer my services to the wounded. Now, take a rest before you become one of them,” she orders in a no-nonsense tone, waving me away.
The title she uses to address me causes my stomach to twist – that’s how people were addressing Need.
“Please, just call me Vivian, and thank you,” I note, taking a reluctant step back.
“Very well, Vivian.” She slides into my spot and gets right to work.
I swallow. It feels wrong to leave when there are still people waiting to be treated.
“This is how war works, kitten. We rotate; otherwise, we’ll all be exhausted, and that leaves us vulnerable,” Sin coaxes, lacing our fingers as he leads me out of the room.
I follow, casting a final, forlorn look over my shoulder, until the doors close.
A small sitting room across the dining hall is bustling with motion. Servants hustle, bringing out trays of warm food. Long tables now line the walls, and people are already serving themselves.
Shocked, I step inside. The servants immediately freeze and fall into deep bows.
More unease floods me. “Woah, uhm, please stop that. You don’t need to bow, ever again. In fact, if you find the spot where they’re apparating people, you can all go home. You’re free.”
My words feel awkward, but I hope they convey my intent.
Slavery is abolished, effective immediately.
They rise, and a girl who looks to be in her late teens beams. “Oh, we know, Ma’am. Some of the other servants have already left, but most of us… we can’t go.”
“I’m sure we can find–” I start, thinking that the Shadow Realm towns might be a great resource, when she shakes her head.
“No, no. What I mean is that we don’t want to go. We want to help. We may not have powerful magic or know how to fight, but you all need to eat. We can take care of that,” she finishes with a hopeful smile.
The others nod in agreement, and the room gets blurry from my unshed tears. We can’t beat Need alone, and now, more people are standing together than I ever could have hoped.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
They get back to work, and I make a mental note to make sure they start to be paid for their efforts.
Sin looks down at me with a warm smile and kisses the top of my head before we drift over to the food.
“You’re good at this,” he notes softly. There’s a note of pride in his words.
“What?” I take a chocolate chip muffin. It’s still warm.
He takes one as well, and we head back into the corridor. “Leading,” he answers, giving my hand a small squeeze, and angling us toward the Southern Wing.
My cheeks heat, but my mouth is full of chocolate goodness, so I don’t bother to correct him.
I was not built for leadership. I was built for books, blanket forts, and social awkwardness.
They are NOT interchangeable.
We turn down a corridor, and another tremor ripples through my hands. With it, Leon’s scent floods my nose, and when I blink, the hall is gone.
Leon’s eyes are wide and furious as he grabs me. His grip is iron-tight as he pulls me against him, forcing me–
“Vivian, wait!” Morgana’s voice snaps me back to the present. She’s striding towards us at a fast clip.
Sin stiffens, and I frown, wondering what’s bothering him.
“Could we talk for a moment? Alone?” Her tone wavers, and she flicks a nervous glance at Sin.
His hand tightens over mine, almost imperceptibly. “No,” he all but growls.
I jerk back at the venom in his voice. “Sin, what–”
But I stop when Morgana shakes her head. Resignation and sadness flash across her features.
“It’s fine. He’s still angry with me for helping you sacrifice yourself,” she explains.
My jaw drops, and I turn back to Sin, ready to explain how it was my choice.
“I trusted her to keep you safe. She broke that trust,” he explains, his tone cutting. But I recognize the emotion underneath it. It isn’t rage – it’s betrayal.
I frown, shaking my head a little. “But you guys are bonded.”
Morgana’s expression hardens, and she points to the nearest door. “Don’t worry about it. Look, this is important, so if you aren’t going to give Vivian privacy, then can you both come? This can’t wait any longer.”