Chapter 82: Eighty Two
Valka
Present
I shiver, twisting onto my side as the ache tears through me. It’s spread from my stomach to my chest. Every breath feels like needles are pricking through my ribs.
A firm hand presses me against an equally firm chest, shielding me from the cold, but it’s useless. The chill is in my bones. It’s killing me from the inside out. Another ragged sob slips from my lips.
"We’ll get you to a healer soon," a low, soothing voice murmurs against my ear. "Hang in there."
I vaguely remember Lucien pulling me from the carriage, wrapping me in bundle after bundle of blankets before setting me on his horse and holding me close. He bit his wrist and fed me with a mouthful of his blood, and it had kept the fever at bay all night.
But it returned by morning with renewed vengeance, eager to take me down the deadly plunge.
Lucien had no choice but to send the party ahead, veering through the northern passes to find the closest physician.
We’ve been riding for hours ever since and I don’t feel any better. My breath is hot as flames as I thrash against him, the rickety gallop of the horse sending my body into a dangerous lurch.
My lips skim a strong collarbone and my mouth waters at the smell of the blood thrumming under his skin. Thirst consumes me. I lick the snow off my lips but it does nothing to quench the thirst. Instead it fuels it, filling my gut with fire.
My nose drifts toward his neck on instinct, running down the length of his strong, steady pulse. Lucien draws back, his palm firm on my cheek as he guides me away from his neck. "No," he warns. "I can’t tell if it’s helping or worsening your health."
"I’m thirsty," I plead. "It hurts. One...more drop?"
Something rumbles in his chest. "We’re almost at the mountains--"
His words blur as my canines stretch, pain and need blurring together. A moan slips from me as I press my face into his neck, running my teeth along him--and sink them through the leather and into his skin.
He jerks so violently, the horse rears so high, neighing as it hurls us off its back. Lucien breaks my fall, catching me and encircling his arms around me as we roll in the thicket of snow and rocks.
My lips never leave his skin. His blood tastes like fire and nectar, like the world itself melting on my tongue, granting nothing but dark, sweet oblivion. I drink greedily, the high rushing through my veins, smothering the pain.
Lucien’s back slams into the tree, the trunk cracking upon impact, halting our crash. "Valka," Lucien pants, fingers threading into my hair to yank me off, but they stay, his breath stuttering as I crawl into his lap, fingers gripping his silky silvery locks as I pull back his head, drinking deeper. "That’s enough, Val."
A little more... I think.
He clutches my shoulder and against my ear, he whispers something in the old tongue that makes my limbs turn to jelly. My lips leave his skin, eyes growing heavy-lidded. I slump forward, lashes fluttering shut as the darkness takes me.
***
I come awake to the scent of brewing herbs and low arguing, Lucien’s voice and a woman’s in hushed tones I barely hear. Metal chimes, jars clink. "I told you not to come here, boy," the woman scolds. "You risk drawing your enemies to my door."
I tilt my head to see who could possibly talk to Lucien like that, but I must lose time and consciousness for a brief moment because when I come to, it is to adept fingers pressing sharp into the center of my skull. My limbs are rendered immobile, needles pierced into several points of my near bare skin.
Consciousness bleeds in and out of me quickly. My lashes flutter and I see pale violet eyes peering down at me from a face that has been weathered with time framed with black hair mixed with so many streaks of grey, I could barely tell them apart.
Lucien’s voice teases my ears and I try to turn on search of him, but my body won’t cooperate. "How much time does she have left?"
The woman warm fingers touch my temple. "Few months give or take. Warned you the last time, didn’t I? The nosebleeds have passed. The fevers have begun. Soon, she’ll start to forget slowly. Such is her plight. Binding her to yourself was a foolish. You have quickened the process and now, you will lose her."
Lucien scoffs. "I’m no fool, grandmother. And perhaps you might try optimism for once in your remarkably dull existence of weeds and solitude."
"Those weeds have kept you alive through every idiotic decision you’ve made," she snaps. "If you had any sense, you’d have left her mated to the wolf."
"Sadly, that was not an option."
"Letting that mean beast of yours think again for you, I see." She clucks her tongue, a dry sound of disapproval. "That bond would’ve tethered her, kept her grounded. A normal wolf mated to a Lycan gradually adapts, the wolf changing to survive the bond. But she was never ordinary. There’s already a Lycan soul buried deep inside her. What she is becoming battles for dominance with what already resides in there and her body cannot bear it."
A gentle hand brushes against my cheek. "What can be done about it?"
"Nothing," the crone says. "It is inevitable. Best watch and pray to the gods that the battle ends before it kills her." A pause. "You may stay till the storm passes tonight, but you must leave before dawn..."
I go under again, the voices and scents growing muffled and distant, until all I know and see and know is black.
***
When I finally stir awake, odd dreams of flowers, castles, flames and a childhood that isn’t mine wrapping around my subconscious, it is a with a sob. My fingers swipe at the air, my mind caught in the throes of a ceaseless battle that wouldn’t end. A battle I was losing.
I feel like I am drowning in a freezing lake, and it doesn’t matter how hard I wade through. The current still drags me under. I scream in outrage, thinking it unfair that I die like this. That I’ve never had a moment’s peace. Hounded. Haunted. Slowly devoured.
Valka.
Who’s Valka? I wonder as perspiration curls from my lips. Frozen. I’m dying inside.
Can’t breathe.
Wake up.
Damn you, Valka. Wake the fuck up.
It sounds like Father is speaking to me. I wonder if he’s ever forgiven me. I wonder if he hates me. I wonder if he wants me to die and join him. And suddenly, that doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.
I stop trying to breathe. I stop fighting the hands that tugged me under and let go--
Don’t you fucking dare, a voice snarls in my ear. Hands grab my shoulders, shaking me like they can pull me out of this hell. But I’m already falling and the dark is peaceful and I do not want to leave anymore.
Fuck, that voice breathes, heavy with panic. Stay here, Val. Stay with me. Please.