Chapter 91 – Azaria
AZARIA
“You’re safe now, my Love.”
That voice… Eris?
It drifted through the dark like a warm breeze. His voice mingled with the sounds of footsteps and distant murmurs.
I reached for it, tried to hold on, but it was already fading.
The first thing I noticed was the scent. Not blood, but herbs. Sterile, bitter, familiar. Healer’s quarters.
Then came the sound: soft footsteps, distant voices, the low hum of warding magic pulsing beneath the surface. And then, pain.
Gods, that hurt.
My skull throbbed in vicious pulses. Head trauma. I remembered the tree, the impact against bark, the way the world had tilted and gone dark.
I blinked once, twice. The light was dim, filtered through enchanted glass above me, casting a pale blue across the ceiling. My limbs felt heavy and distant. But they were there.
The forest. The mission. The trap. That blow. The boot. Blood in my mouth.
My chest tightened. Pain tore across my ribs—broken, probably. My chest seized with every breath. My fingers twitched, and I tested my legs, arms, and shoulders. Everything hurt, but the sensation was there. They didn’t break me completely. Or they did, and someone put me back together.
The sheets felt crisp and soft against my skin. They’d taken my shattered clothes and cleaned me. Shit, I’d have to mend Eris’ uniform again.
My mouth was dry, my throat raw. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I gathered what strength I had left.
The door opened. Myrin stepped in, robes wrinkled, face pale, exhaustion etched into every line of her expression.
There were smudges under her eyes, tension at the corners of her mouth, and the edges of her usually perfect braids were fraying.
But her eyes were clear. She smiled softly. “Welcome back.”
My throat was thick and sticky. “…how bad?” I rasped.
Myrin crossed her arms, lips pressing into a thin line. “Not too bad this time.”
I exhaled slowly. Pain flared across my ribs with the movement. Alive. They found me. Kept me whole. My eyes burned. I blinked hard, willing it away.
I turned my head carefully toward Myrin and watched as she adjusted the linens at my side, moved a few vials on the table with trained practicality.
“Who found me?” I asked, voice barely audible.
Myrin paused mid-motion, hand stilling on a cloth. “Kalias,” she answered gently. “He arrived first. Kept you stable long enough for Quin to get there.”
I let out a shuddering breath. That explained the blur. The wolf. “And Quin?” The name slipped out too easily.
Myrin’s mouth tugged upward slightly. “Worked himself to the edge. Drew on every drop of his magic to knit you back together.”
I closed my eyes. I could feel the warmth of his magic inside me now, tangled with the pain. “Did… did he say anything?”
She didn’t answer right away. “He didn’t need to,” she finally said. “His hands were shaking. His blood was… loud.”
I blinked slowly.
“He thought we might lose you,” she added softly.
Neither of us spoke for a moment. I stared at the ceiling, gathering air, then whispered, “And my team?”
“They’re outside,” Myrin said. “Haven’t left since you were brought in.
Kalias is curled up in front of the ward.
Quin, well, he had to be forced to leave once.
Elias and Lyra finally pushed him back to his room to wash and change.
He was back couple of hours later.” Her voice softened. “You scared them, Azaria.”
“I scared myself,” I admitted.
Myrin sat beside me on the edge of the cot, reaching for a vial of warm water and pressing it carefully to my lips. “Drink. Slowly.”
I did. It burned going down, but helped.
“You’ve survived everything, Azaria Sylvenhart,” she murmured, brushing a stray hair from my cheek. “And you’ll survive this, too.”
I managed a shaky breath. “Not if you keep talking like I’m made of glass.”
“Silly girl,” she muttered, half exasperated. “You are glass. At least for now.”
I tried to smile; it didn’t quite land. But she saw the attempt and nodded like it was enough. Then she leaned in, voice low. “You’ve got two boneheaded men outside this ward who would gladly set the world on fire for you. One of them already did. The other nearly did it with his teeth.”
My breath caught.
Kalias. Quin. Both of them?—
Kalias had let the wolf loose for me. And Quin?—
I stopped. Couldn’t finish the thought.
Myrin placed her hand on mine with enough pressure to ground me. “You rest now,” she said gently. “I’ll let one of them in soon.”
She rose, adjusted the blanket over my legs, and turned toward the door.
Before she left, I whispered, “Thank you.”
She paused. Looked over her shoulder. “For bringing you back?” she said softly. “You thank them, Azaria.”
I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. My head throbbed too much, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw the forest. The trap. The boot coming down. So I lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant murmur of voices beyond the ward.
The door opened again after what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. Dain stepped inside. He looked like hells. He wasn’t just tired; he was completely worn out. Like he’d been carrying something heavy for too long and wasn’t sure he could set it down.
“Hey,” I rasped.
My voice came out rough, scraped raw. His head turned toward me. Relief hit his face so hard it was almost painful to watch.
“Hey, Captain.” He tried for a smile. “How are you feeling?”
I tested my weight, shifting slightly. Pain flared hot across my ribs. I hissed through my teeth and stopped moving. “Like I got thrown into a dimensional trap and beaten half to death,” I muttered.
“Fair assessment.” His mouth twitched, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes.
He crossed to the bed and helped me sit up, steadying me as I pushed against the pillows. He handled me with such care that it felt as though he thought I might break beneath his hands. “Easy,” he murmured.
I let him help. Didn’t fight it. When he settled into the chair beside the bed, I was upright, propped against the headboard, breathing shallow to keep the ache manageable.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The fire crackled. Shadows danced across the stone walls. I focused on breathing—in and out—and let the quiet settle.
Then Dain spoke. “They know.”
I blinked, turning my head to look at him. “Who knows what?”
His jaw flexed. He didn’t look at me as he said, “The squad. I told them.”
My chest tightened, not with pain this time. “Told them what?” I asked, though I already knew.
“Everything.” His voice was steady, but his hands weren’t.
They curled into loose fists on his knees.
“The camps. Torven. What he made you do. What he did to you.” He paused, meeting my eyes now, his expression careful.
Controlled. “I didn’t tell them everything,” he added quietly. “But I told them enough.”
I waited for the anger to come. The betrayal. The sharp, cutting fury I should’ve felt at having my secrets laid bare without permission. It didn’t come. Instead, I felt… tired. And strangely, impossibly relieved.
“Are they all right?” I asked quietly.
Dain’s head jerked up. His eyes went wide. “You’re not angry?”
I shook my head. The motion pulled at something in my neck, but I didn’t stop. “No,” I said. “You did what you had to.”
His breath caught. “Azaria?—“
“If our positions were reversed,” I continued, voice rough but steady, “I’d have done the same.”
I reached out, found his hand, and squeezed. His fingers tightened around mine immediately, like he’d been waiting for permission.
“Thank you,” I said, “for keeping it as quiet as you could.”
He exhaled a shaky breath, like he’d been holding it in for hours. His shoulders slumped forward, tension bleeding out all at once.
“They were shocked,” he said after a moment. “But they understand. They’re with you, Azaria. All of them.” He paused, then added, softer, “Always.”
I let my eyes close. The exhaustion settled deeper now, dragging me back down toward sleep. But this time, it didn’t feel like drowning.
“Good,” I murmured. “That’s all that matters.”
Silence again. But it was different now. Lighter. I didn’t let go of his hand.
“How long was I out?” I asked, eyes still closed.
“Few hours. Myrin said you’d wake soon.” He hesitated. “Quinton was here earlier. Before I told them. He—“ Dain stopped. Started again. “He didn’t take it well.”
I opened my eyes and looked at him.
“He left,” Dain said quietly. “After I told them. Walked out without a word.”
My chest tightened again. “He’ll come back,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
Dain’s expression softened. “He will. He just needs time.”
I nodded. The fire popped, sending sparks up the chimney. “The others?” I asked.
“Waiting,” Dain said. “Kael wanted to come in immediately. Reyna nearly kicked the door down. I told them to give you space first.”
A faint smile tugged at my mouth despite the ache. “Of course they did.”
“They care about you,” Dain said simply.
“I know.”
Another beat of silence. Then Dain said, voice careful and measured, “I need you to understand something.”
I opened my eyes fully. Met his gaze.
“I didn’t tell them to ease my conscience,” he continued.
“Or because I thought it was the right thing to do.” He leaned forward slightly, still holding my hand.
“I told them because I would rather have you hate me and be alive than lose you because I kept your secret.” His voice didn’t waver.
Didn’t crack. “I chose your life,” he said quietly. “Over my place in it.”
I stared at him for a long moment. Then squeezed his hand again, harder this time.
“I don’t hate you,” I said.
His throat worked. He didn’t speak.
“I would’ve done the same,” I repeated, slower now, making sure he heard it. “And I’m glad you did.”
Relief broke across his face again, quieter this time.
“All right,” he said softly. “All right.”
The door opened. I turned my head.