Onyx Blood [True North series book 2/3]
Chapter 2 - the Relief

Warrian, —who ’d still been spooning me— immediately jolted upright. I tried to sit up too upon seeing her — but my arms gave out halfway through.

“Don’t bother, child,” the Queen spoke, as she slowly approached me. She stood beside my bed for a long moment, looking at Warrian and I, and then looked at the stool Phaedra had been using to tend to me.

“May I sit?” she asked.

“Please,” I said, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

“You look unwell,” the Queen finally spoke after she had installed herself.

She took off her bright-colored woolen cape and folded it before putting it on her lap. Warrian slowly scooted away from me, and toward the edge of the bed.

“Stay,” the Queen commanded without even so much as looking at him. “You’re the only thing providing her with comfort right now.”

Warrian froze, and then scooted back toward me, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

I stared at her, bracing myself for what she would say, or do. But the Queen just held my gaze for a while, and then sighed.

“I remember this part,” she said, “when you feel like you’re just about to break. Do you feel like you’re going to die, Serin?” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I opened my mouth, and then shut it again. “I do,” I then said, and as if on cue, another wave of dizziness hit me. I closed my eyes and tried to keep myself from vomiting right onto the floor beside the Queens beautifully embroidered boots.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” the Queen said, and her voice sounded quieter this time – gentler.

I opened one eye, and looked at her.

“I sent you into my son’s tent, the first day you were here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut again as Thoridor’s image appeared in my mind again. I remembered seeing him for the first time after he had saved me from the Ku’lan. I remembered how strikingly beautiful he had been to me, and the primal yearning inside my chest was set ablaze again. I doubled over in agony, clutching my knees to my chest as if to hold myself together – to keep myself from falling apart even further.

The Queen gently put her hand on my forehead, making my eyes flutter open in shock.

“I sent you in there knowing no good would come of it,” she continued, “and I apologize.”

I didn’t reply — I was too busy trying to block Thoridor’s image from my mind.

“I’m surprised by how strong this bond is,” the Queen said, “for a mating bond that hasn’t been completed — your reaction seems rather severe.”

“He fed me his blood,” I rasped, “and drank mine. He says he sealed me to him.”

Warrian shifted behind me, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me into him.

“Sealing is but a small part of the ceremony,” the Queen said, “at this stage, the rejection symptoms should already be subsiding — you seem to be getting worse. Are you sure the ritual hasn’t been completed?”

“It hasn’t,” Warrian snarled, pulling me closer to his chest, “she’d know if it had. We’d all know.”

I was too tired to ask what that meant — but I vaguely recalled Warrian mentioning completing the ritual by mating. Another wave of shivers washed over me and I gasped for air.

The Queen sent a disapproving look Warrian’s way, and reached for my hand.

“You can do one of two things, child,” she said to me, holding my gaze with a fierceness that almost made me want to recoil. “You can endure this torture. You are strong enough. But if you want to give up, no one would blame you. And nothing would have to change. You would not need to act upon the bond. But ridding yourself of him completely — continuing this process… just know you do not have to continue.”

“You continued,” I countered, “you fully rejected your mate, didn’t you?”

The Queen’s lips tightened into a thin line. “My mate was a monster,” she said, “yours is not.”

She got up, and without saying another word, she left the room. I closed my eyes, and rested my head back against Warrian’s chest.

He stroked my hair. “She’s right, you know,” he said, helping me drink some water, “you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” I said plainly.

But then the nightmares started. Nightmares unlike any I had ever had before. They were a mixture of false memories and terrifying scenes that my brain had just seemed to have made up — tailor-made for my personal torture. I spent my days on a cycle of trashing around in fear, vomiting and hallucinating. The lucid moments in between grew fewer and further apart until I was all but gone. I was only vaguely aware of Warrian’s and Phaedra’s presence. I felt as if I was floating somewhere in between worlds — like I was stuck in a gateway, unable to move ahead or go back. I felt as if I was trapped in the ice cold, stinging silver liquid, and I was running out of breath.

And then I saw him. I saw him, and I knew he was real. I knew I hadn’t made him up —I wasn’t hallucinating— he was real. I knew, because he looked as bad as I felt.

His beard had grown out, there were bags under his eyes, and his lips were cracked and dry. He looked worn down — like he’d been put through a wringer. And although I wanted to scream, and fight him — I simply couldn’t. It was as if my soul knew he’d be the remedy for my agony, and although my body had no strength left, my soul did. And so I stretched out my arms. I reached for him — begged for him to come to me.

He was at my side in the blink of an eye, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into him, merging our bodies together. Sweet relief.

I could breathe again — the pain was gone instantly. I gasped for air, filling my lungs with the scent of him. I clawed at him, my body no longer my own as it sought closeness — fought for his touch. The fog inside my brain was lifted, and I could finally think again. “

This doesn’t change anything,” I whispered with a cracked voice, unwrapping one of my arms from our tight embrace, and reaching for Warrian’s hand. Although Thoridor clearly was the salvation my soul had been begging for, Warrian had been my mental lifeline all along — and still was. I was not about to let anything change that.

“I know,” Thoridor whispered, breathing me in. “I know — don’t worry. Rest now, love.”

I would have protested if I had any strength left to do so. But I didn’t. So I closed my eyes, and slept.

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