Chapter 78 – Quinton
QUINTON
The weight of our conversation sat heavy. Heavier than the exhaustion dragging at my limbs.
My body still trembled; my magic felt sluggish. But that was nothing compared to what was coming. Then?—
A rustle. The soft shift of boots against the dirt. The tent flap opened.
Azaria.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
She looked… different. Clean. Composed. Not a trace of blood left on her hands, her face.
But I could still see it—her standing over those bastards, blade dripping, eyes cold and deadly.
My blood magic stirred weakly, reaching for her even through the suppression haze.
Elias turned, his gaze flicking between us. His posture shifted, like he was preparing to excuse himself. But before he could leave, her voice—steady and composed—cut through the space between us.
“It’s all right, Elias. I won’t be long.”
There was no hesitation in her tone, no anger, only control. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Elias hesitated, then gave her a brief nod before stepping aside.
She turned to me, her eyes raking over my body, scanning every inch, every tremor, every sign of exhaustion. She was taking me in, assessing. I knew what she was seeing. She saw the damage I had done to myself, the aftershocks of my reckless, fucking stupid decisions. But she didn’t comment on it.
Instead, her voice was soft. Neutral. “How are you feeling?”
There was no accusation in it, no anger, just a question. I wasn’t prepared for that. And because I wasn’t prepared, because my brain was still running on scraps of arrogance and stubbornness, I opened my damn mouth and let out the first thing that came to mind.
“I didn’t know you cared this much.”
Elias shot me a glare that screamed are you serious right now?
Azaria, however, didn’t react. Didn’t scowl. Didn’t snap. She just looked at me, waiting. My throat tightened. I wanted to fill the silence with something else, something that didn’t make me sound like a complete idiot, but I struggled to find the words. So, I exhaled and finally answered.
“The effects are still lingering, but it’s better than it was.”
I hated how weak my voice sounded. How unsure.
Azaria gave a small nod. “There’s another rejuvenation tonic. Dain will bring it to you.” Her tone remained steady. “When it takes effect, we leave for Tempest. Let someone know if you can’t ride on your own.”
I forced myself to nod.
Elias frowned slightly. “The suppression artifact’s effects should have diminished by then.”
Azaria’s jaw tightened. “He should have been on his feet by now, but he’s still weak. This wasn’t a normal artifact. I don’t want to take chances.”
My jaw clenched at that. Weak. She was right. And I hated it.
Elias nodded. “Then we should take it with us and inspect it. Did you retrieve it from the woods?”
Azaria stammered.
“I… it got destroyed in the heat of battle. It’s useless now.”
I lifted my head slightly. She hadn’t lied, but the way she said it, like she was admitting to something?—
Elias and I exchanged a look.
“You mean you wrecked it,” Elias said flatly.
Azaria exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms. Yeah. She did. My lips twitched slightly despite the exhaustion clawing at me.
Elias shook his head. “Seems some bad choices were made today.”
Azaria turned her gaze back to me, and suddenly, the exhaustion felt a lot heavier. “When we come back to Tempest and you’re back on your feet properly—I wish to speak with you.”
I swallowed hard.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I could feel Elias’s gaze burning into the side of my skull, praying I wouldn’t mess this up.
I forced a slow breath and gave her a simple nod. “All right.”
Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, something unreadable in them, before she turned and left.
Silence.
Then—
Elias smirked. “See? Don’t fuck it up, little brother.”
The rejuvenation tonic did its job. My limbs still felt heavier than usual, but the worst of the weakness had faded. Good enough—I could move, I could haul myself into the saddle without making a complete ass of myself. That’s all that mattered.
We didn’t linger. We rode hard, cutting across open ground, no one willing to risk another night in Dravareth’s shadow. Fine by me. The last thing I needed was another ambush to remind me how close I’d come to bleeding out because of my own stupidity.
The ride back was brutal. Every jolt sent pain through my ribs, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to give her another reason to think I was weak. But she knew anyway. I caught her glancing back, jaw tight, hand flexing on her reins like she wanted to stop and check on me.
She didn’t, just kept riding. Kept that distance. But the glances told me everything.
The hours dragged. By the time we hit the border, my body betrayed me again.
At first, I pushed through it. Pretended I was fine.
Kept my mouth shut. But my vision kept blurring, the road smearing and spinning.
The sun flickered overhead, and I had to blink hard to clear it.
I heard her before I really felt anything.
“Elias!” Azaria’s voice, cracking like a whip. “He’s getting weak again. Take him on your horse. We’re almost there.”
There was no argument in her tone. Not that I could have put one up. My head was spinning too much to string two words together. Still, pride made me grit out, “I can ride?—“
“No more arguments, Quin.”
She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.
Elias handled it. One second I was in my own saddle, the next I was slumped against him, the world tilting and narrowing. My horse gave a protesting snort, but Elias didn’t slow.
Somewhere between the hoofbeats and the low murmur of voices, the world went dark.
When I came to, the smell of herbs and the sterile air of the healer’s quarters hit me first. Afternoon light filtered through the window. I’d been out since we arrived.
My body felt sluggish, but the bone-deep ache was gone. Pain, exhaustion, that constant hollow ache—all of it was gone.
Finally.
Elias strolled in, arms crossed, wearing that insufferable look. “How long are you planning to lounge here?” he called, amusement lacing every word.
I scoffed, hauling myself upright without flopping over like a corpse. “Ass.”
He smirked. “I can see you’re finally on your feet.”
Not really. I flexed my fingers, feeling for the thrum of my blood magic. It was there—faint, but real. Like a friend who hadn’t decided whether to forgive me yet.
Elias leaned against the bedpost, relaxed, but I saw the seriousness underneath it. “I spoke with Azaria,” he said.
My whole body tensed. I snapped my gaze up at him. He didn’t rush. Just let it settle.
“She wants you to come find her. At her house. When you’re healed and ready to talk.”
My mouth went dry. “Did she say what about?” I asked, knowing exactly what the answer would be.
Elias leveled me with a look. “No. But I think you and I both know what’s coming.”
My lie. My betrayal. Weeks of cold silence. My near-death. Her rage, her fight. The way she’d looked at me, covered in blood, like she’d burn the world to keep me alive.
My chest burned. I wanted to go now. Wanted to tell her everything. I wanted her to know how much it hurt to see her pretend I was nothing. Wanted her to know how fucking terrifying and beautiful she was when she went to war for me.
Elias must have seen it all in my eyes, because he planted a steady hand on my shoulder. “Soon,” he said, quiet and sure. “Let’s get home. Clean up. Eat something. Then go.”
As if I cared about food or rest. But he was right.
I drew in a slow breath. I had to be clear-headed. I had to get this right.
Because this conversation?
It was going to change everything.
I left the healer’s wing with Elias and made my way to the barracks apartment. Lyra was there—arms crossed, eyes sharp, somewhere between relief and wanting to punch me.
“You’re an idiot,” she said. No hello.
“I know.”
“You almost died.”
“I know.”
She punched my shoulder. Hard. I grunted, rubbing the spot. She studied me like she was still weighing whether to be pissed or grateful.
“Don’t do it again,” she muttered, but her voice shook.
I nodded, but she wasn’t done.
“You left camp. Before the wards were even up.” Her voice dropped, dangerous. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I didn’t have a good answer. “I needed?—“
“You needed to sulk? To punish yourself?” She shook her head. “You’re not the only one who cares about her, Quin. And watching you destroy yourself over her? It’s exhausting.”
I went still. Because she was right.
She stepped closer, eyes hard. “You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”
I hesitated. “Yeah.”
“Good. You should.” She crossed her arms. “And when you do, don’t be an idiot. Tell her the truth. All of it.”
“I know?—“
“Do you?” Her voice cut. “Because you almost died out there. And she tore through four men to keep you alive. So when you talk to her, you better make it count.”
The weight of it settled over me. I nodded, throat tight.
Lyra exhaled, some of the anger bleeding out. “Don’t make her wait too long.”
She turned away, disappearing into her room, and I was left standing there with Elias watching me.
“Eat,” he said simply.
I did. Forced down bread, meat, and water. My stomach had been empty since the ambush. It was my first real food in two days. It tasted like ash, but I ate anyway.
Then I lay down. Tried to rest. Couldn’t.
By the time the sun dropped, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my cloak, pushed past Elias’s knowing stare, and stepped out into the cold night.
My heart hammered. My blood magic hummed, finally awake, finally reaching for her.
Azaria was waiting.