“No,” he said. He grabbed my hand and raised it towards his own cheek, as if he was meaning to caress himself with it. “I have not witnessed healing magic in years.”
Neither had I, since my mother died. At least not healing magic other than my own. The only druids in the empire were my own parents. The only known sorcerer other than Axel was also at Victor’s court. Beings made of magic were Emperor Victor’s most exotic belongings. Unlike other magical beings, we would not be executed on sight. Clearly, we would be captured instead.
To most humans we were simply stories. Spellcasting sorcerers, forged in fire. Shapeshifters made of air, there one moment and gone the next. The elusive sirens, enchanters who drew their powers from the sea. And druids of the forest, with the kindest form of magic. The only ones that were defenceless and weak.
“It’s nothing. I can’t even heal myself. I heal much faster than humans, but I can’t use my magic to heal myself the way I heal others.” He grabbed my waist and drew me close. Not close enough for us to embrace, but close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath, the heat of his scent.
“Your magic is a blessing,” he said. “Mine is a curse.”
I huffed. “Don’t give me a sob story about the power that allowed you to establish a new dynasty. Magic is not good or evil, and neither are we.”
A moment of silence. A hum.
He was warm, as alphas tend to be. His skin was calloused. His sleeve was rolled down, exposing small burns that littered his lower arm. Most likely caused by his own accidental magic. His veins were purple. There was a vulnerability there. In his exposed skin. In his tired eyes. A man like him was always on guard. He was not on guard with me. I could not find it in me to fight him at that moment. But that did not mean he had won.
“I do not appreciate being kept prisoner,” I said. I removed my hand from his cheek. I released myself from his grasp. “I need to get back to work.”
No one stopped me from leaving this time.
Sixty-two nights after meeting the General
My time in the infirmary was not as peaceful as it had been before my time in the General’s chambers. Axel was a riddle that I could not solve. Was he, as his people claimed, a just man? Kind to his people, but fierce to his enemies? Or was he power-hungry and merciless? A storm of violence that ravages cities, as his enemies claimed? Was he a caring lover, overcome with worry? Or was he a controlling alpha that liked to toy with his conquests?
Inge had asked me several times where I went for those three days. I told him I was on a trip to the coast, as I missed the sea. I could tell he did not believe it. Of course he did not. He must have known I could not leave the castle.
Nightfall brought us closer together these past two days, as Inge and I were the only ones left in the infirmary. He left after midnight, and I kept watch.
On a large granite table there were pots filled with an endless supply of herbs and ingredients. We worked in tandem to restock the shelves.
Mugwort-infused oil got onto my healer's tunic and stained it green. I removed several red hairs from the antiseptic salve. I had been stirring it long enough for my hair to fall out. My braid had come undone. Inge’s beautiful face was marred with smears of brown liquid. This was my favourite task in the infirmary. It felt like we were making art, or just preparing dinner. Making medicine reminded me of home. I used to spend nights this way with my mother, when she was still there. Inge was warm and bright, just like her.
The nostalgia warmed me, but it did little to soothe my worried heart. I thought too often of Axel. The confusion about his character consumed me. The feeling of grease against my skin, as the stained tunic clung to my chest. He brought my emotions to a level where I had to find comfort, or at least a release.
“What do you think of the General’s character?” My question filled the silence between us. Inge stopped working. My voice was hushed enough for the conversation to stay between us, but I had to know. I had to understand who it was that had stirred my heart.
“Why do you ask?” he said. He rubbed some dirt off his face, and used that same hand to put on my shoulder. I looked up at his face. Inge was a genuine and kind omega. There was no mystery there. I could see it in his eyes.
“He confuses me,” I answered. He released his grip on my shoulder, and continued to work.
“He is a good man,” he said. “Of that I am sure.” I sighed. “Does he not treat you well?”
I thought about this for a bit before answering. I channelled some frustration into my knife as I cut stalks of lavender into tiny pieces.
“It’s not that he treats me badly,” I decided. “But the way he treats me can be stifling sometimes.”
Inge nodded thoughtfully. “He is an alpha with strong instincts. It makes him valiant and strong. A tireless protector and defender of his people. Yet this very same thing can make him too resolute, and as a brother, too overbearing,” he said. “He is legendary with a sword, but he is not as well versed in matters of the heart.”
“Do you think he is right to keep an omega captive for their own protection, even if it is against their own wishes?” I asked, my voice thin. He stopped working. He looked at me. I felt his eyes on me. I kept working.
“What did he do?” he asked. I shook my head.
“He is worried for me,” I said.
“Alain is worried for me all the time,” he said. “He never keeps me from going where I wish to go.” I furrowed my brows.
“Alain is your mate?”
“You didn’t know that?” he asked. I tried to wrap my head around it. It seemed everywhere I went, Alain was making sure I was protected. Perhaps it was not Alain’s doing. Perhaps it was Axel. Inge was as good as family. Alain was his most trusted friend and mate to his chosen brother. Espen was his family in that same roundabout way. He was entrusting my care to the people he was closest to.
