Chapter 9 #4
When he’d managed to drink down the last drop, I eased the bottle away, replaced the cap, then settled it where I’d found it within the chest. He was clearly all about the neatness, so if I’d just shoved it back in randomly, it would’ve probably upset him.
And he’d clearly had enough pain and upset as it was.
Thank fuck, though, I noticed the white veins covering his skin, the marks of his venom crystallizing through his blood, vanishing. Really fucking quickly, actually.
Within a couple of minutes, they were gone completely.
I jolted as deep black scales laced with glowing citrine erupted over him like a ballistic shield.
It was only for a few seconds, before they withdrew, and it was back to his humanoid skin, sans white veins.
I saw his eyes flame with his power, and he released a heavy breath of relief.
His fingers started healing from the shriveling.
It still persisted elsewhere, over his arms, and wherever else hidden beneath his clothing too, but I could at least see the healing beginning.
It just seemed time-consuming when it came to that aspect.
He’d been damaged in two separate ways and now the crystallization had ceased, it was obviously just taking his body some time to kick on the full breadth of his healing factor.
“A few hours,” he told me, finally not gasping the words or struggling to get them out.
He even managed to adjust his own weight on the bed and shift down, settling his head onto his pillow. Although, his hands were still trembling.
“Until the shriveling goes away and you’re back to full strength?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine now.” His eyes darted to the chest. “Just… could you pass me the items inside the suede cloth?”
I nodded and reached in, unwrapping the cloth.
I started when I found not just items as he’d referred to them, but actual weapons.
Two jeweled daggers.
Each one had a double-edged steel blade with a teal shimmer. The guard formed a coiled serpent around a large emerald, while the grip was wrapped in dark, scaled leather with gold etching. A smaller emerald set into the pommel glowed vibrantly.
Before I reached out to grab hold of them, Vaxan told me quickly, “Careful not to touch the tips. Only handle them around the grip.”
“Not that I’m looking to slice my skin open, but why the intensity with the warning?”
“The glowing smaller emerald signifies that the venom reservoirs are fully charged.”
“The… what?” I asked as I carefully lifted out each one—yes, by the grip only.
“They can be used to inject venom into an opponent without the need for me to move in close with an actual bite to do so.”
“And you need these right this instant, why?”
Instead of answering, he took them from me and shakily rested one down either side of him, within precise reach of each of his hands. “Thank you. I’ll be fine now. You may take your leave.”
“They won’t be coming back. I tagged those vamps with my magic, and I can feel they’ve left campus. So, you don’t need to worry.”
He jolted. “You tagged them? To what end?”
“Why do you think?”
“No. You cannot pursue this.”
“I sure as fuck can. After what they did to you—”
“It’s not your concern. It was done to me. Not you. And while I’m grateful you assisted me, you must leave it at that.”
I scoffed. “That’s not fucking happening.” I went to lift the chest off the bed so he could settle without the obstacle it would pose if he needed to shift as he rested or fell asleep, but he snatched my wrist, stilling me.
“What they did was a threat to me, a slight against me. It’s not the fuel for a crusade in which you can exact punishment and vengeance to satiate your own issues with powerful oppressors.”
“That’s not—they can’t get away with this!”
His grip tightened. “It also can’t be known that I was overpowered and tortured by mere fourth-year vampires.”
“It wasn’t your fault. The way that was set up, there’s no way you could have—”
“It still happened.”
“If you’re embarrassed, you don’t need to—”
“I am not just anyone. I am heir to the Basilisk Kingdom, the Excetra Crown. For it to be publicized that I was attacked… the political ramifications would be beyond comprehension. It would force a response involving a mammoth show of force that would come close to violating the accords with the supernatural. My parents, as far as they can really be referred to by that term, won’t hold back when it comes to me.
Not because I’m their son, but because a threat against an heir is a threat to their survival. ”
My gut twisted as the undercurrent of his words bled into me—something I didn’t normally allow myself to feel. But this whole situation was weirdly… intimate… so I guess I had my guard down where the vulnerability of it all was concerned.
He was all alone.
Not just as a newly enrolled student.
Not just as the only Basilisk here.
His parents didn’t even see him as a son first.
He had to tread through dangerous ground, through a political minefield. What he needed, what he deserved with justice for this attack, was complicated by who he was, what he was supposed to be according to them and the wider world.
He couldn’t just be him.
He couldn’t react how he wanted—or how he needed.
He was fucking trapped and alone.
But there were other ways to handle this without it being publicized.
And, yeah, without it being some crusade for me.
That wasn’t what this was about anyway. I mean, not exactly.
The bottom line was that those vamps were dangerous.
Their attack had been so fucking underhanded too, where even somebody as attuned to others as Vaxan hadn’t picked up on it.
And it wasn’t just a case of bullying—they were connected to the will of their vampire clan.
It was a broader threat, one with some weight behind it, meaning it might not end with them—or what happened today.
But pushing this with him… it wasn’t a good idea. Clearly.
“All right,” I conceded.
“Yes?”
“Yeah, I won’t go after them.”
I wouldn’t.
But there was somebody else who fucking well could, somebody who had a knack for covert vigilante justice, somebody who’d had those he loved suffer under this kind of speciest persecution, and would react very strongly. He’d fucking wipe the threat from the face of the earth.
The only problem was, he wasn’t exactly my biggest fan right now with him thinking I’d been treating his son like a fleshlight and all that.
Vaxan released my hand. “Good.”
I smiled and placed the chest back under the bed.
“You want to reconsider calling Winter up here?”
“No. And, like I said, please take your leave. You’ve done enough. Get back to your day. I’ll repay your efforts once I’m back on my feet.”
“Repay me? I don’t need that from you.”
“We are not friends, so that leaves us as unlikely allies, those who function to exchange favors, yes?”
“Maybe we are friends. Or getting there.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Bastard. He knew there was something weird going on, some tension I didn’t fully understand, and hadn’t been willing to acknowledge before.
I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Like I said… maybe.”
“Well, that’s something, is it not?”
“The fact I saved your ass didn’t already make that clear?”
“I wanted to see whether it had made it clear to you.”
Damn him.
I stepped back. “Look, let me call Win.”
“No.” He pulled out his phone, scrolled and messed around for a couple of moments, then shoved the screen at me. “Read.”
I leaned closer and took in the screenshot of a text exchange, some of the text blacked out, leaving just enough to gauge what was being said.
Little death: Love the idea, but I can’t tonight.
Vaxan: Of course.
Little death: In a few days?
Vaxan: Certainly.
Vaxan: You did it.
Little death: What’s that?
Vaxan: Made your preference known. Instituted a boundary. Ensured something transpired on your terms for once.
Little death: And that’s just… okay for you? With you?
Vaxan: It is. I’m proud of you. Keep it up, little death. And enjoy your class also.
Little death: I will. On both counts. Thank you. Enjoy your sparring.
Little death. I’d heard him use that pet name with Win before. This seemed to be their post-fuck exchange.
I swallowed hard. The intimacy in it was a lot to take, honestly.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to convey to you?” Vaxan asked, gently.
“You’re explaining the caretaking thing you mentioned earlier when I first suggested calling Win to you.
You think he falls into that role too easily and too deeply when he makes a connection with someone—and that it hurts him.
He needs to assert what he wants more, these…
boundaries and stuff.” I shoved my hand through my hair.
“And, even though you’re not saying the words, you think he didn’t do that enough with me and it led to him getting fucked over, just catering to me and what I wanted. ”
“That about covers it, yes.”
I eased my ass onto the bed beside him. “I heard you that night. The two of you… you wanted me to. As a punishment, right?”
“Punishment that you required in order for that to develop into a wakeup call.”
That first word sent a rush of need through me, and I had to shift my weight. Come the fuck on, Zayn. “I don’t get how somebody proud and needing to maintain a powerful stance like you—something we kind of have in common—could be fucked like that and have him take the lead without… without…”
“Feeling shame and vulnerability afterward? Not immediately then putting a distance between him and I as you did?”
“Maybe,” I murmured.
“It wasn’t about power to me in that situation. I wished to experience sexual gratification, to experience him, to experience myself in that context. It was about melding together, not two independent forces colliding and one exerting their whims and rigid structure upon the other.”
“Like… fluid, or something?”