Chapter Eighteen
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“Wake up.”
Vedikus’s eyes snapped open and a solemn, second-hand light flooded his vision. It had the likings of a berserk but with a calmness around the intent. Intently relaxed instead of intently violent. He had not awakened like this since the days of his youth, since his bedding was a nest of leathers, and his many brothers slept at his side. He would never be the first one awake; his mother and his elder brother were always up before him.
Not much had changed. As an adult minotaur, he was not the first one to rise, again.
Aldora kneeled at his side with just the tips of her fingers brushing his arm.
“You may touch more of me if you wish,” he rumbled, searching her face and finding it exhausted where his would most likely appear well-rested. Her fingertips left his skin and he missed her touch immediately. He could become enthralled with it, he knew, touches that were meant for pleasure instead of pain. It would weaken him, and yet, he allowed himself to miss it. Vedikus reached up to swipe her hair over her shoulder. “You did not sleep.”
She was beautiful. And despite the hardship that the labyrinth had placed on her, his female had grown more beautiful to him since he caught her that first night. He had not lied when he said that she was all that would be soft about him. Acknowledging his weakness had changed him. Vedikus flicked his tail. He was stronger for it.
We both are.
“I didn’t want to risk dreaming.” Her face fell and he tugged a rebellious strand of her hair. It was another soft touch against him, a silken touch this time.I will craft her a comb made from the bones of our enemies.“If I dreamt something sweet, then I would never want to wake up, but if I had a nightmare...”
“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly. Aldora’s eyes shot to his, widening with shock. The word was unusual on his tongue, but it did not worry him. If he could wake like this—refreshed—and with her each morning, it was a small price to pay. “I hurt you.”
“I may have...” She glanced away for a brief moment. “I’ve hurt you more.” Aldora shifted and peeled back the old bandages across his middle. He felt nothing but the pressure of the old material lift from his flesh. The stabs to his gut had healed over, and the outer edges were crusted over with old blood. Vedikus dropped his hand into the pool on the other side of him and wiped it clean.
“And have healed my pains many times over. I have not risen to greet the day with jubilation in longer than I can remember. Your blood is sweet and remains in me.”
“It doesn’t hurt? I can’t believe how fast you’ve recovered. Are you sure it’s not this place and the magic that is here?”
“Any hurts would be welcomed. It means I have paid for my life this day, but no, I do not hurt, not in the way you suggest, female, but I’m not fully recovered.” He sat up. His gaze dropped from her face to the new clothes she wore. A shift that was white, stained but clean—at least as clean as any cotton could be here. “The hag of Prayer has given you a boon.”
Aldora flinched. “She has given us more.”
His gaze narrowed as she turned away and pulled a plate forth. On it lay boiled roots and strips of pink meat that he could not place, but it was the pale cylinder of wax beside it. He picked it up to find the top was a cork made of the same material. Something sloshed around inside.Could it be?
Vedikus looked back at Aldora. “Eat,” he demanded and returned his attention back to the vial.
She sighed and the sound of her chewing slowly filled the quiet space.
He gingerly removed the cap, murmuring a rite against whatever lay within for protection, and slowly pulled it off. The stench of it filled the air immediately. The cove was the first scent that hit him but it wasn’t the one he was looking for. There was wight root and salt, bone powder and blisterwood smoke, but it was the magic laced into it he wanted. To him, magic had a smell, or a touch that made tangible things intangible. It was ever changing, but strong. He felt Aldora’s gaze on him.
Vedikus lowered the vial. “It is safe. How did you get it?”
She stopped chewing and swallowed. “She gave it to me after we spoke.”
“When did you speak?” His eyes narrowed.
“Last night when you were resting. I couldn’t sleep, not after everything that had happened, and I knew she was there.” Aldora pointed to the passage. “When she came, she offered me the dress and asked me to follow her. I knew what had to be done.”
Anger bloomed. “You did not think to wake me?”
“No. I did not,” she said with such assurance it took him aback. Defiance was not something he had come to know from her.
“Why?”
“Because I knew she would not hurt me—us—after we had entered her space. It was a woman’s conversation that needed to happen, and I—” she paused, “we needed to speak alone.”
Many things came to his skull about what the hag would have wanted. What she could have offered Aldora... He had slept well last night, too well, and he did not think it was entirely to do with his and Aldora’s rutting, her blood fueling his veins, or the healing of his wounds. Vedikus checked for his battle axes and found them by the burned-out fire where he had set them the night before.
“What did she offer you?” he asked, anger simmering amongst his wariness.A way home? A way to be rid of me?He looked hard at the half-eaten food.No. Aldora could not kill him, even if she poisoned him with witch spit, even if she leaned over him in the throes of sleep to slit his throat. She did not have the strength to pierce through his layers of skin and muscle and do any real damage.
