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She’d gotten lucky. Aura must’ve lost interest in her once she was unconscious. I managed to get to my feet, reaching out to a tree to steady myself. My heart was still hammering, my entire body alive and hypervigilant. Somehow, Magdalena and I managed to get Aura back to the house. I stumbled off to the kitchen for another sedative and returned to jab it into Aura’s thigh. We’d only managed to get her just inside the door.

“Can I look at your wound?” I asked Magdalena.

She lifted her shirt. There were deep gashes in her side, but it seemed only deep enough that were she human, she’d need stitches. I stood and rushed to the bathroom to gather fresh linens. “Press this against your wound to slow the bleeding,” I said.

She nodded. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I will. I’ll get some water to tidy her up before we put her on the clean sheets.”

Magdalena made a sound of agreement. I limped back to the bathroom where I thoroughly washed the blood from my hands and face. My shoulder screamed at me, and I quickly realized that it’d been dislocated. I bit back a cry of pain as I pulled down to pop it into place. I stared in the mirror, noticing Aura had gotten me good. I remembered how Clover had tended to my wounds in the aftermath of my brother’s death, and the tears came unbidden, pouring down my face.

For a while, I let myself feel the pain of the past and the present. The tears stung the fresh gashes on my face, but I let them flow. Eventually I pulled myself together, filling a basin with water from the pump and carrying it to the living room. My shoulder and sides screamed, but I cleaned the blood from Aura’s body and carried her to the nest where I laid her down, covering her in blankets before sitting back on my heels, trying to catch my breath and gather my composure.

“Do you think it worked?” Magdalena asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know where or if I dosed her. But the syringe was empty.” I pressed my hand against her forehead. “She’s still burning up, though.”

Magdalena stood, an arm around her middle as she hobbled to the kitchen. She didn’t pour any blood this time, but she took down two glasses and a bottle of nectar. She filled the glasses and set the bottle aside before shuffling over to me. “Nectar of euphoria,” she said. “Aura’s brew.”

I thanked her and took a sip. Despite the rampant pain in my body, I instantaneously felt less like death. Magdalena closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. Neither of us spoke. We just stared at Aura, then after a while, Magdalena started to clean the mess around the living room. I joined, both of us limping and huffing in pain every now and then.

Still bleeding, Magdalena eventually went to clean up and then dragged herself to bed. I sat watch over Aura. She didn’t stir. Her eyes didn’t even flutter behind the lids.

Maybe the draft wasn’t working. Maybe I’d missed. Were we losing her? I didn’t dare close my eyes, didn’t dare take my gaze from her. I couldn’t. I needed her to be alright. I needed her.

Hours later, my eyes grew heavy as I kept them trained on Aura. I pressed the back of my hand against her forehead, disheartened by how high her temperature still was. Sweat beaded on her face, her skin growing paler despite the bright flush in her cheeks.

A knock pulled me out of my thoughts of losing her again. Frowning, I rose from the spot of my vigil and made my way to the front door as a wavery voice rang out from beyond it. “It’s me, Gertrude.”

Hastening, I pulled the door open and ushered the old woman inside. She smiled at me, warmth in her pale eyes as I shut the door. “I just came by to check on Aurelia and bring a few things,” she said. She held out a wicker basket in a knobby hand.

I took the basket and set it down on the accent table. “Thank you,” I said. “And thank you so much for working on the cure.”

“Of course. I still remember the day she was bitten. She’s so strong. I’ve known her since childhood, just as I’ve known her horrid mother for decades. There’s goodness in Aurelia—empathy. Something Bellatrix lacks.”

The image of Aura after her mother attacked her with lycan repel resurfaced, and I clenched my jaw.

“How is she doing?” Gertrude asked.

My gaze shifted to Aura’s still body beneath the sheets. My heart clenched. “I think she may be getting worse,” I whispered.

The elderly spellcaster hobbled over to Aura, lowering herself stiffly. Her hand hovered over Aurelia’s forehead before she tsked and struggled to her feet again. “I’ve brought along a few herbs that would help cure the fever. You just need to set them in a fireproof dish and burn them near her like you would burn sage. Other than that, we can only wait.”

I nodded, but before I could say more, the woman was already shuffling to the door. I followed her, and to my surprise, she clasped my hands tightly in hers and peered into my eyes. “She might be asleep, but you must tell her how you feel.” With that, she released my hands and patted my shoulder before taking her leave.

I watched her go, making sure she got back to her walkway, then grabbed a plate from Magdalena’s cabinet and set it on the wooden floor just beyond the nest of blankets. Soon, the dry herbs Gertrude had brought were burning, emitting a thin, bitter-smelling mist into the air.

I settled down beside Aura again and smoothed her two-toned hair from her face. “You’ve called me an imbecile many times,” I said, softly. She was burning up even more than she had been during her Heat. “I hate to admit you were right, but there are so many things I should’ve told you. That I was promised to another. Not because I want to be, but because it’s my duty. I should’ve told you I didn’t feel like I belonged in my own pack, either, just as you never felt you belonged in your own family. I should’ve told you I’d never felt that … link others feel toward a mate. Not until I met you, Aura. I should’ve told you it all, and I didn’t. And now I’m afraid it’s too late.

“So, if you could hold on to even an ounce of that stubbornness that drives me insane, please do. Not for me, but for you, because you have so much good left to do. Because despite what others may think, you are no monster. You are the key. Live to show them that you and others like you—like me—belong in this world, too.”

Still, she didn’t stir. I curled up beside her, not even caring if she woke up in a feral state again. I needed to be near her, needed to be wrapped in her scent and able to hear the slightest change in her heart rate or her breathing. I didn’t touch her, though I wanted to gather her in my arms. I just lay there with her and hoped.

Bonds are thicker than blood.

I awoke with my brother’s words in my mind and the reminder of the last time I’d seen him alive. My heart was thundering as I pushed myself upright and stared at Aura beside me. She was still asleep, her pulse and breathing steady, face speckled with purple bruises. I pulled the covers back to find more bruises among the blood crusted over her body.

Carefully, I stood in the darkness and lit all the candles until the room was bright enough. Walking backward to keep my eye on her, I entered the kitchen to grab a basin of water and some linen, making my way over again on sore limbs. I settled beside Aura and started to clean her wounds again. As I did so, I recited poetry and told her the story Clover told me.