“I know you want vengeance, but that isn’t going to mend what’s been done,” Stefan argued. “The only way we can fix the past is by preventing the future.”
I gave a harsh scoff. “Thanks for being my voice of reason.”
“I’m always your voice of reason.” Stefan paused. “Which is actuallyterrible, because I have the worst judgement. No wonder you’re such a fuck up.”
He meant it in jest, but I didn’t laugh. I hadn’t laughed for days now, not since my wedding. That seemed so long ago now. His face fell when I failed to respond.
“I have to check on Emma.” She needed me. Though it was past midnight, I could feel through our bond she was awake. I left Stefan behind me and proceeded toward my own quarters, feeling watched by the portraits in this old house.
I’d thought the ghosts of my past had haunted me. They were tricks of the light compared to the monsters that plagued me now.
Our room was dark. I failed to turn on a light, and instead navigated the area by the moonlight coming through the window.
I sat at the edge of the bed. Emma looked out at me, eyes glossed over. I stared down at my mate. Emma still hadn’t healed from the battle a month ago. She’d sustained three broken ribs, a cracked hip bone, not to mention several bruised organs. My mate had been on bedrest for most of the month, as ordered by Miroslava, though I worried she wasn’t getting any better, but worse. Not even healing potions were working to mend her body.
“Did you find them?” Emma rasped. I could tell by her voice she was in a great deal of pain.
“Everyone’s back. They survived.” I went to move her hair out of her eyes, but she cringed at my touch. Even my fingers against her skin was too much pain for her to bear. The very act of being touched was torturous to her.
“Good.” Emma grimaced and shifted on the bed. The rustling in my cloak became frantic.
“Someone’s excited to see you.” I opened up my cloak. There was a thrilled humming as Tygrys flew out of it.
“Tygrys!” Emma’s expression was delighted. She stroked his fur with one finger as Tygrys cuddled up to her cheek.
“Found him in the wreckage. It’s a miracle he got out,” I said.
“Oh, I thought he was dead.” Tears rose in her eyes, and she kissed his tiny form. “Thank you for bringing him back.”
“Of course.”
Tygrys nestled in her hair, and Emma’s eyelids fluttered. She gave another wince of pain. “I wish I could sleep.”
“This will help.”
I placed two fingers on her temple and drew them down her eyelids. She immediately was out of it. I watched her carefully as her chest rose and fell, though her nose still scrunched in pain, even deep within her dreams.
I’d been having to bewitch her to sleep every night. She just couldn’t get any rest.
She felt guilty. And responsible. I was past the point of blaming her for it, more so myself. I just wanted her to get better. She hadn’t cast a single spell since she’d been here. She hadn’t been able to, though she’d tried.
Emma needed time to rest, and that was time she didn’t have as the Worldweaver. The Crystals of Harmony needed to be united in a year’s time, otherwise, the portal to Edinmyre would close and the fae would turn to dust. She couldn’t afford to take time off.
But seeing her like this… she couldn’t fight even if she wanted to. We couldn’t spend our time searching Malovia for the Unseelie stone if she could barely make it out of this bed. She’d barely left this room in weeks, sustaining herself on broth that she choked up the moment she got it down.
Part of me wondered if we would have to do this without her, and I knew that wouldn’t work. This was dependent on her, but Emma had never been at a weaker point.
“I wish I could just take you away from all of this,” I whispered. I’d never felt like a bigger failure as a husband, and we hadn’t been married that long. So much for newlywed bliss.
Droga was looking for her, and though he hadn’t found her yet, I wasn’t certain the estate would remain safe forever. Once Droga located Emma, he’d send his minions and his armies to retrieve her.
They can come. I’ll enjoy mutilating every last one.
I failed to curl away from the cruel voice within. It was eerily similar to the leshane’s during my time of possession, but I knew the person who was speaking to be no demon.
It was the beast inside. The part of me that festered for some sort of justice, and a way to make this right.
I thought the only way to do so was to make our enemies pay with blood.
