Blood of Passage: Part Ten
She sighed and entered her rooms and froze at the golden haired female waited for her with a kind smile on her face. Her warm brown eyes…they were Blakes. “I’m Morrigan. But you can call me Mor.” His mother.
She crossed her arms, covering up the bruises on the inside of her bicep. “Is it a blood thing or a blond thing; barging in my rooms when I’m alone? What do you want?”
“I have a letter for you from my son,” Mor said. “I suggest you read it before throwing it into the fire.”
She rolled her eyes, “I have seen your son twice; Both times were annoying.” But she still couldn’t get him out of her head. “What’s in the letter?”
Mor shrugged, “It’s not my business.”
“But you know what’s in it, don’t you?”
“I like you,” Mor smiled. ‘And yes. I do.”
She kept her arms crossed, “Set it on the table and I’ll read it later.”
Mor narrowed her eyes, “Are you going to tell me why you won’t uncross your arms?”
“You’re covering up a bruise, aren’t you? Did your father do it?”
She uncrossed her arms, “No; it was a training exercise.”
“I know more about hiding bruises than you realize, Aurora. Especially bruises that look like fingerprints.”
“You can’t tell anyone. Especially your son.” She didn’t know why his opinion about anything mattered to her. “You cannot tell Blake.”
Mor pursed her lips, “On one condition.”
“You read the entire letter and try to not kill my son for being an idiot.”
She snorted, “No promises. But fine.”
She took the letter from Mor. The wax was golden and the paper smelled vaguely of freshly cut grass and morning dew; of Blake. She looked up, “Thank-” She was gone. “Figures,” she muttered. “Well, a promise is a promise.” She opened the letter.
Blake tied back his hair, getting the loose strands and blood and sweat out of his face. A pool of dread weighed in his stomach; if it was about his brothers or Aurora or Maze- he didn’t know. All he did know was his brother was taken by a sociopath, that his mate was trapped with an abusive father and that Maze left to find her mate with one of the most dangerous males he had ever encountered.
“Do either of your shadows know anything?” Bay asked quietly. “Could you reach out to either Adrien’s or Cyrian’s shadows?”
His shadows did pick something up. They picked up turmoil and pain all throughout the mountain. THey picked up death and blood and gore. He stopped. And Adrien. “He’s hurt. Badly. Were going to have to carry him out.”
Bay turned to Tarus, his eyes were hard and unyielding. “Could you heal Adrien? How far does your healing blood go?”
Tarus didn’t flinch under Bay’s look. “My blood could heal his wounds but if his wings are damaged, the best my blood will do for those is keep away infection. They must heal on their own, Baylor.”
“Do not call me Baylor; It’s Bay.” Nate grinned, no doubt thinking about how he was the only one who Bay let call him that. Bay ran a hand through his hair, “Are you sure you can’t help him? There has to be something. You don’t know Adrien like we do. He would sooner die than go without his wings.”
“I can heal his wounds, just not his wings. They need to heal naturally or else it could do more bad than good. If anything, you would need my sister or the High Lord of the Dawn Court; they had training that I was not allowed to learn in the Camps.”
Blake sighed, “We’ll deal with it after we survive the next two days. With people trying to kill us and with how hurt Adrien is, we need to prevent infection and keep him alive and get out of here as fast as we can.”
“If Maze and the others get to Adrien, they’re going to take him to a source of water. His wounds would be prone to infection from the debris around him.” Bay crossed his arms, “There are two water sources in the mountain. The ravines that vein through the mountain and meet up towards the exits. Warriors are going to be flocked to the water to stay hydrated.”
Blake sighed, “We need to split up. Again.”
She was going to kill him. How dare he tell her they were mates through a letter. A LETTER. She was going to wring his blond head until his brain was a puddle then she was going to kick his ass. She almost screamed. Blake that stupid bastard.
A soft knock came at the door and she whirled around, the letter behind her back, “What?!”
Puella nudged through the door, her eyes wide.
“Oh! Puella. I’m sorry, I just- ugh. I need to process some things.”
Her maid smiled. You want to talk about it?
She shook her head, “I don’t think you want to know.”
I won’t tell anyone, Aroda. What’s wrong? Her mother’s name for her in her native language.
She almost didn’t tell her. But Puella had been there since her mother had died. Her tongue was taken from her for sticking up for her against her father. “You know that blond Shadowsinger? Blake?”
She nodded. Yes.
She laughed harshly, “He told me something through a letter. Something that is so important. ‘I’m going to the Blood Rite and I just wanted you to know in case I died.’.. Who does that?! If he actually survives the Blood Rite I am going to kill him!” She collapsed onto her bed. “I need a nap.”
Puella sat next to her on her bed, brushing back her hair. A mischievous smile on her lips. Aurora snorted, “No, I don’t like him.” Her maid cocked an eyebrow showing she very much did not believe her. “Take that back. I do not have a type.” She shook her head, kissing her forehead. She sat up on her elbows, meeting her maid’s eyes, “He is cocky and arrogant and an overall pain in my ass.” And he was her mate. “Cancel my training for the rest of the afternoon. I am taking a long, long nap.”
The pain shot through his limbs and into his wings and he almost, almost fell unconscious. Maze was hazy, the amber slashes in her eyes bright with anger. He tried to grin at her, “I stayed alive.” It came out slurred.
Her face broke apart, “I know you did. I know you did, Adrien. I am so sorry. For everything.”
The restaints on his arms were taken off, he would have collapsed if it weren’t for Zev and Cyrian holding him up. Wait. “Why is Cyrian helping me?”
Cyrian grunted, “Careful, Adrien. You might lose a few brain cells trying to figure it out.” Prick.
“Can you help heal him? Like you did me?”
“No, that was different. Besides it’s against the rules to use magic.”
“Please, Cyrian! For once in your life do something that benefits someone besides yourself! What would Tania say?”
“Do not use Tania against me,” Cyrian growled.
“You are such a dick. I can’t believe we are friends.”
“I never said I was your-”
“Shut it, both of you!” Zev growled, “We need to get to a stream before his wounds get infected. His rapid healing will help him anyways. But we need to clean the wounds, first.”
“There’s going to be a lot of Illyrians. It’s a good thing were the best,” Cyrian smirked. He was in too much pain to roll his eyes.
He fought the darkness barreling at him. He made Mazakynn a promise. He would stay alive. But the pain shooting through his wings…he couldn’t lose his wings. He just couldn’t.
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