Onyx Blood [True North series book 2/3]
Chapter 20 - the Heartbreak

Warrian and I sat down at the table, and scooped some food onto our plates.

“How was your day?” I asked him, happy to get some distraction from my spiraling mind.

“Uneventful,” Warrian replied, “it took Morai until well after lunch to settle into her quarters. I mainly just stood outside her door, guarding the place.”

“Oh,” I said, frowning, “that doesn’t sound very exciting. Are most days like that?”

I remembered meeting him outside one of Thoridor’s sitting rooms, where he had been just… standing, guarding.

Warrian tilted his head to the side pensively. “When we’re in the palace, yes, there’s a lot of standing around,” he began, “but I do get to come along on most their trips — those are always fun.”

I watched Warrian eat for a while, observing the way his jaw moved as he chewed his food. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Don’t you get bored when you just stand around doing nothing?” I asked him.

“Hey,” Warrian called out quasi-offendedly. “I don’t stand around doing nothing,” he corrected me, “I’m guarding. It’s a very important and noble job.”

I giggled, and nodded along. “Of course,” I said, and straightened my face, “but don’t you get… bored?”

Warrian swallowed his food and leaned back in his chair. “Sometimes,” he admitted, and took a swig of his drink, “not today, though. I did a lot of thinking.”

I leaned back too, and waited for him to elaborate.

“About you,” Warrian finally continued. My cheeks instantly turned crimson.

“Oh,” I said, nervously playing with the end of my braid, “anything specific?”

Warrian smiled, and nodded. “About you and Thoridor,” he said, and the corners of his mouth lowered ever so slightly, draining the joy from his eyes.

“Do you still hate him?” he asked, and his eyes burned into mine with an intensity I didn’t recognize.

I frowned, and looked at Thoridor, who was sitting across the table, talking to Aricor.

My heart jumped a little upon seeing him. “No,” I just said, and looked back at Warrian.

His face had turned back to it’s usual kind self. “I figured,” he said slowly, “so that’s it, then.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

“That’s all I had going for me,” Warrian smiled, and grabbed my hand. “You hating him — that was my only chance. But he’s your mate, and if you don’t hate him anymore, sooner or later, you will fall for him. I think it’s best if we end whatever we had now, before anyone gets hurt. Me, mainly.”

My stomach dropped. “Just because I don’t hate him doesn’t make me condone his actions,” I stammered.

Warrian squeezed my hand encouragingly. “Don’t worry, I get it,” he said, and his eyes were filled with a mix of understanding and sadness, “but he’s shown remorse. He truly never meant you any harm. And he is your mate, Serin. There’s nothing stronger than the mating bond. I know you want to choose who you end up with — but it will be him. It was always going to be him, and I don’t blame you.”

Tears sprung to my eyes, blurring my vision. I tried swallowing the lump in my throat, but my mouth was too dry to do so. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to distract myself from the sharp pain inside my chest. I needed some air.

I forced an apologetic smile onto my face, and pushed back my chair. “If you’ll please excuse me,” I choked out, and left the room as quickly as my feet would carry me. I broke into a full sprint when I reached the hallway, and ran until I reached the narrow window that led to the platform between two towers Thoridor had showed me earlier.

I pried open the window, and lifted myself onto the windowpane. I took a deep breath, and crossed the roof, throwing myself onto the platform as soon as it was within reach. I felt a heavy thudding in my brain, as if something was knocking against the inside of my skull.

Thoridor. I reached out to him, and his presence instantly poured into my mind.

“What happened?” he boomed, “are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” “No,” I replied quietly, “give me some space. I need to be alone.” Our link went quiet for a moment. “Okay,” Thoridor said, and then the humming stopped, and he was gone.

I tugged at my tunic, pulling it tighter around my shoulders. I cursed myself for not having brought a coat. Now that I was sitting still, I could feel the cold settle into my bones. I shivered, and contemplated going back to my room, but immediately shook off the thought. No — I needed to be outside. I needed air — to see the stars. I could see them in the distance, glittering in the snippet of sky that was visible through the tunnel of water. So far away.

I lay back, and flinched as the cold from the plateau settled into me. I closed my eyes, and sighed. I thought about what Warrian had said. “It was always going to be him.” Was that true? I had hated Thoridor — had been repulsed by his actions, and had thought him to be despicable. But he had shown me kindness, and like Warrian had said — remorse. I folded my arms behind my head and pulled up my legs.

And then there was the matter of the blood wielding. It had been as though a rug had been pulled from under my feet — spilling tar onto my my memories. Nothing had been the way I had thought it had been — it had all been a lie. I had been lying to myself, to my brothers, to my father— I pressed my palms to my face as silent tears spilled from my eyes and onto the cold tiles below my head.

I folded my hands over my heart, as if trying to keep it from breaking any further inside my chest. I wondered how much more it could take before it would turn to dust. I had been through so much heartache since coming to Ardanis — it was bound to reach its breaking point sometime soon. I let out a shaky breath and pushed myself up. I crossed the rooftop again, and climbed back through the window.

My breath caught in my throat as I lifted my head and met Thoridor’s eyes instantly.

“You scared me,” I panted, and leaned against the wall to steady myself.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Thoridor said, “you seemed really upset. I didn’t mean to startle you — and I didn’t mean to intrude. You said you needed space.”

I averted my eyes. “Does it have something to do with Warrian?” Thoridor asked carefully. I nodded. “Amongst other things, yes,” I mumbled.

Thoridor rolled his shoulders. “Did he hurt you?” he asked lowly.

I rolled my eyes at him, and began walking down the hallway. “Please,” I called out exasperatedly, “it’s Warrian. He’s an actual angel.”

Thoridor caught up with me. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, and I could tell he was making an effort to respect my emotions. It made me feel a little better.

“Yes, actually,” I said, and I was surprised to find I meant it. “Will you walk me to my room?”

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