Chapter 20
twenty
Back at the inn, Orelia stood in the washroom running a wet cloth over her skin, cleaning the grime of the night off her body the best she could. The heat pump in their room didn’t work, and the copper tub had something growing on the inside she wasn’t about to brave.
She longed for a proper bath, but this would have to do. Orelia dipped the cloth in the cold water and squeezed out the excess water. Each wipe doused her skin in goosebumps, but it took the images away—Balor’s eyes, his feral smile, his cock between her legs.
When she was finished, Orelia changed into her sleeping chemise, then ran her fingers through her knotted hair the best she could as she entered the bedroom. Smashing Balor’s head flashed in her mind, but the memory was gone the moment she looked at Vade.
He sat on the side of the bed, the silver moon highlighting his vacant expression. He’d been silent since they’d returned and didn’t seem to notice her while she searched for a comb.
“I’m finished in the washroom,” she said.
He continued to stare out the window, his face and body still a bloody mess.
“Vade.”
A slow blink.
Orelia crossed the room and stopped in front of him. When she reached for a raised bump below his eye, he shot to standing.
“Please let me heal you,” she offered gently.
The emptiness on his face had moved into his eyes, turning them into an endless abyss. “I don’t deserve your help.”
“What are you talking about?”
He brushed past her, entered the washroom, and shut the door with a soft click.
Orelia stared at the door for a while, wondering why he was so reluctant to let her help. Male pride was her first thought, but it seemed like something else. Something deeper.
She had almost found a comfortable position in the mildew-scented bed when the door to the washroom opened. Vade slid into bed in a fresh tunic and pants. The blood was gone from his face, but the bruises had turned a deep purple. He lied on his back and stared up at the ceiling.
Orelia stayed curled on her side, watching him. “Why won’t you let me heal you? I know your ribs must be in agony.”
Moonlight flitted over his solemn face. “They can heal on their own.”
That would take weeks. Stubborn fae. She rested her cheek in her palm. “Earlier you said you didn’t deserve my help. What did you mean? You saved me.”
“I didn’t. Elshar did.”
“You kept Balor from—”
“I didn’t keep him from doing anything.” His head rolled to the side, eyes meeting hers. “If not for Elshar, Balor would have raped you. I didn’t do anything. I—” He choked on his words and went back to looking at the ceiling.
Her hand snuck out of the covers and rested on his shoulder. Vade squeezed his eyes shut like the gesture physically pained him.
“You both saved me,” she said.
He rolled over and faced her, eyes full of regret. “You saved me, Orelia. That fucking asshole nearly had me. You were the one that took him out, and Elshar killed Fren so I could get free. I did fucking nothing to help either of you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I failed you both.”
“It isn’t your responsibility to—”
“You are my responsibility, Orelia. It’s my job to keep you safe. I almost died tonight. Then you would have died, too.”
She swallowed, having somehow forgotten that incredibly important detail.
But she couldn’t stand the guilt on his face.
Orelia placed her palm on his chest. “But we didn’t, and we’re safe.
It’s my job to protect you, too. You’re always the one getting me out of trouble, and finally, I got to help you. ”
He shook his head. “You are my responsibility and mine alone. And tonight, I failed you.”
“All of this doesn’t rest on you. It’s my fault we’re even in this situation, and you don’t have to bear all the weight yourself, Vade. I want to help, too. Let me.”
He gently gripped her wrist and pulled her hand from his chest. “Don’t do that. Don’t be kind when I don’t deserve it.”
“But you do.”
“No, I don’t. I . . .” He let out a defeated breath. “There is no good in me. I don’t deserve anything.”
“Did your father make you believe that?”
His eyes flew to hers. “Fucking Elshar . . .” he grumbled. “That’s how you knew I was a Sharpe. He told you.”
She nodded. The gut-clenching feeling of being powerless as she watched Balor prick Vade’s neck with the knife came back in force.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get the other questions right.
” Her heart pinched as her eyes traveled over the wounds on his neck and the bruises on his face, knowing some were because of her failure.
He set her arm down between them. “I didn’t expect you to. I don’t share myself with anyone, so how could you have known?”
In the warm bed, in the quiet night, she wanted nothing more than to take his pain away—internal and external.
He was complicated, and she didn’t understand his motivations, but she couldn’t keep herself from wanting to heal his hurt.
“You can share yourself with me,” she whispered. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
Vade searched her eyes for so long that she thought he might have forgotten what she’d said. But she was patient, and eventually, he spoke.
He let out a deep sigh and adjusted his arm under the pillow, positioning himself so there was only a couple of inches between them.
“My father was chieftain of the Sharpes. I was expected to take his place when I was old enough, as all firstborns are. I’m an only child, and my mother almost died giving birth to me.
” He swallowed. “I think that’s why she hated me so much.
I nearly took her life, and she couldn’t conceive after me. ”
Orelia could feel her tears growing.
“My father was the most heartless man I’ve ever known, so I guess that’s where I get it from.
I saw him burn children alive. I watched him set his falcon on a woman and listened to her scream as the bird tore her flesh until she was unrecognizable.
I’ve seen him do many things. Terrible things he forced me to watch. Said it’d make me stronger.”
It felt like someone was squeezing her heart. “That’s awful.”
“That’s the Points,” he said frankly. “My wings didn’t grow at the rate of the other fae children, and that was the biggest disappointment to my father. Elshar helped me when he could, but he’s a Horn, and they stick to their western Point unless there’s an all-tribe meeting.”
Vade took a steadying breath, and Orelia braced herself for what she thought was coming next.
“At one of those meetings, my father decided to get rid of his disappointing son once and for all. While we were high up on the ridge outside the aviary in the howling wind and stinging snow, he decided to make an example out of his useless boy and kicked me off the side of the mountain. Without working wings to stop me from slamming into the ground, I should have been dead.” His face pinched.
“There were times over those next few days I wished I was.”
With great effort, Orelia kept quiet, afraid any comment would make him retreat into himself.
His eyes went distant, unfocused on the space between them.
“I remember waking up, and everything hurt so much that I couldn’t move until nightfall.
Once I could get my limbs to work, I found a cave on the side of the mountain where I could wait out the incoming blizzard.
At night, when my fire had gone out and the wind had finally quit howling, I wondered what color the sky was on a clear day.
I knew it couldn’t possibly be gray all the time.
I told myself if I survived that icy hellscape I would leave and never come back.
Not without knowing color. Not without knowing what else was out there as I clung to a small hope that life offered something other than pain. ”
Tears dripped onto her pillow, and she wanted so badly to hug him.
“I didn’t eat and nearly froze to death, but I worked my way up the mountain little by little, and three days later, I returned to my tribe.”
His jaw clenched. “I got revenge on my parents and killed them both, then I left. You have to understand that no one leaves the Points. No one. Even Elshar will need to return eventually unless he wants to be ostracized. Fae are a proud people, and to leave and never come back is the ultimate act of disgrace, especially for the former chieftain’s son.
That’s why Balor called me a traitor. I am, but I don’t give a shit. ”
“I’m so sorry, Vade. I . . .I can’t even imagine what that was like for you.
My parents died right after I was born, so I never knew what it was like to have a real family.
My aunt was inattentive and cold, but nothing like your parents.
You never should have had to go through that. What your father did to you . . .”
His dry laugh cut her off. “That’s not even the worst part. The day I returned wasn’t the day I killed them.”
Orelia shifted under the covers, not knowing what to expect next.
“My parents ignored me when I strode into our home, not even seeming surprised to see me alive. I laid in my bed that night, trying to justify my father’s actions.
Maybe it was just his way of toughening me up, I told myself.
Maybe he was being hard on me to get me to see how fucked up this world is to someone who can’t defend themselves or become what they were meant to be.
Stupidly, I tried to dismiss his actions—and my mother’s lack of action—as nothing more than tough parenting. I should have known better.”
“You were a kid, Vade. You can’t fault yourself for wanting to believe your parents were looking out for you.”
His eyes softened. “Maybe.”
Orelia sensed there was more to the story, but she let him go at his own pace. He was finally opening up to her, so she treated their conversation like glass, handling it with great care.