Nero’s eyes opened fully, clouded with pain but fierce with recognition. They found Casteel first, drinking in the sight of him as a man dying of thirst might need water. Then they shifted to Eryken, narrowing slightly.
"You...shot me," Nero rasped, his voice barely audible.
Eryken's weathered face creased with genuine regret. "Not personally, but yes. My orders, my responsibility." He leaned closer, one scarred hand resting on the edge of the bed. "Had I known about the bond—"
"Nero, don't," Casteel murmured, feeling the strain through their bond. "Save your strength."
But Nero's gaze remained fixed on his former commander, a spark of the old fire returning despite his weakened state. "Why are you here, Eryken? To finish...what you started?"
"I'm here because despite everything, you're still one of mine," Eryken replied, his voice steady with conviction. "And because Abergenny needs both of you alive more than it needs another martyr to the cause."
Nero's lips twitched in what might have been a grimace or a smile. "Practical...as always."
Casteel felt Nero's exhaustion mounting, his brief surge of consciousness already waning. "He needs rest," Casteel said firmly, his hand protectively covering Nero's.
Eryken nodded, rising from his chair with the careful movements of a man nursing his own injuries. "We'll speak again when you're stronger. For now, know that this house is secure, and my best fighters guard every entrance." He paused at the door, his expression softening fractionally. "I am truly sorry, Nero. Not just for the arrows, but for doubting what you found here."
After Eryken departed, Casteel helped Nero drink a few sips of water, then some of Makim's medicinal tea. The effort left Nero trembling, his face ashen against the rough pillow.
"You should rest too," Nero whispered, fingers weakly squeezing Casteel's. "I can feel...how tired you are."
"I'm fine," Casteel insisted, though the bond between them made the lie transparent.
Nero's eyes, though clouded with pain, held a familiar stubborn light. "Lie down...with me. Just for a while."
Casteel hesitated, afraid of jostling Nero's wounds, but the plea in his mate's eyes was impossible to resist. Carefully, he stretched out beside Nero on the narrow bed, positioning himself along Nero's uninjured side. The moment they touched, their bond hummed with renewed strength, and Casteel felt some of his bone-deep weariness ease.
"Better," Nero murmured, his eyes already drifting closed as exhaustion reclaimed him.
Casteel watched him slip back into sleep and closed his own eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
Nero had been awakefor some time and lay watching Casteel sleep. He could hear the birds, so he assumed they had slept through the night. The door opened and Makim stepped inside.
Makim paused in the doorway, his weathered face softening at the sight before him. He moved with quiet efficiency, setting down his healer's satchel and approaching the bed where Nero lay awake, watching over his sleeping mate.
"Your color's better," Makim observed in a hushed tone, reaching for Nero's wrist to check his pulse. "The fever's broken."
Nero nodded slightly, careful not to disturb Casteel's much-needed rest. "How long have we been here?"
"Three days since the temple," Makim replied, gently examining the bandages around Nero's chest. "You've been conscious on and off, though you might not remember."
Nero didn't, in fact, remember much beyond fragments—pain like fire in his chest, Casteel's desperate voice, the burn of magicwhen their bond had been reinforced. He winced as Makim's fingers probed the wound site.
"Still tender," the healer murmured, "but healing cleanly. The bond is doing its work."
Through that very connection, Nero felt Casteel beginning to stir, consciousness slowly returning as he sensed Nero's discomfort. The younger man's eyes fluttered open, immediately seeking Nero's face with sleep-clouded concern.
"I'm fine," Nero assured him before Casteel could speak. "Just Makim checking the wounds."
Relief washed through their bond, followed by Casteel's lingering exhaustion.
"You should eat," Casteel said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Both of us should."
As if summoned by the words, a quiet knock preceded a young woman entering with a tray of steaming porridge, warm bread, honey, and tea. She set it down with a respectful nod, her eyes lingering curiously on Nero before she departed.
"One of Eryken's scouts," Makim explained, helping Nero sit up against the pillows. "She's been bringing supplies since we arrived."
