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Then the outside world went still and quiet. And in the distance of my dreamland, the crackling of a fire amplified as I grounded myself. It was like my soul found my body once more, and I was sucked back into its hollow form. When I finally opened my eyes, I discovered a small bedroom. Thick blankets were pulled high over my shoulder and tucked under my chin. My body felt clean, and my hair was unbound across the large pillow under my head.
The glow from the hearth sent a warm blaze of light across the room, warming the skin on my face and the chill from the thin, crisp air sneaking in from the window. Loren sat in a dark corner, his head slouched over crossed arms as he slept quietly in an armchair.
I stretched silently, not desiring to stir him from his slumber. The gradual movement awakened my muscles from their dormancy, sending the blood returning to their latent states and easing the stiffness. Under the covers, bandages grew snug against my skin as I fidgeted against their bindings. The pinch of stitches in my side pulled my flesh, and I flinched at the tender spot. Someone had also rolled my ankle, stabilizing it in thick fastenings and elevating it on a separate pillow.
I was clean, warm, safe, and healing. I’d narrowly escaped death once more.
“You’re awake!” A cheery voice called from the corner. I turned to find Loren snatching his cane from the wall and standing. He was getting better with the crutch, but it was still awkward for him. Every step was a conscious effort, like he was learning to walk all over again.
“How long have I been here?” I asked, slowly sitting up to test the holes in my side. The injury didn’t feel nearly as bad as before, thanks to the thread holding my flesh together.
“Roman flew you in three days ago. They worked on you for about a day, and you’ve been resting since then.” Loren replied, sitting next to me on the bed. “The Grandmaster said Azriel sent them a message. He said you two ran into trouble.”
“That’s an understatement,” I said in a breathy voice. I let a small smile drift to my lips at the mention of his name, at the remembrance of what he'd done for me.
“Well… I’m glad you’re okay. When Roman flew straight to the infirmary, I knew something was terribly wrong. When I saw you, I honestly didn’t think you’d make it.” Loren looked away from my face to stare at his hands. He never liked showing his weakness. I hadn’t ever seen him cry.
“Always underestimating me,” I said and nudged his side. His smile returned, but his eyes remained fixed elsewhere.
“What happened, Arya? What happened to you and Azriel out there?”
I sighed, my tongue heavy from the dryness. My eyes instinctively darted to a glass drink next to my bed. “It’s a long story. So much has happened between then and now, I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning is always a good place.” He handed me the glass, and I drained it before giving him another word.
Noting his growing impatience, I described to him in the best detail I could about the dreams that haunted me, how the queen tempted and tormented me. I told him of the perils of the sea and the monster inside its depths. I explained how I’d killed the horned water beast and ripped the stones from his head, how I’d found myself in the frigid waters and in the arms of a lover. I skipped the intimate moments between Az and I, not feeling quite ready to admit that night with anyone yet, even though Lor was looking at me like he already knew.
Then I shared the most difficult part, the truth I didn’t want to relive. The part in the story where the girl loses the guy and almost loses herself in the process. A pathetic blurb where she has the ultimate temper tantrum and tries to get back at life. It was shameful, but I told him how I’d called the vampyre myself in a desperate attempt to avenge Azriel’s death. The attempt almost killed me—would have if Roman hadn’t been there just in time—and it definitely hadn’t made me feel better. I still felt the muted sting of grief in my chest, constant and eternal as the night itself.
Loren sighed next to me, facing the fire and sitting quietly as he listened, the wheels grinding in his head as he considered my words. The air staled between us as I patiently waited for him to say something, anything to break the silence.
“You must hate me,” I whispered. “You went through something so traumatic with a vampyre, and I went and called one like an idiot. I’m sorry, Lor, I was careless and stupid and—”
“Shut it, Arya.” He finally spoke, interrupting my rambling. I closed my mouth and watched as he shifted on the bed to face me. The disappointment was plain in his eyes, the brokenness caused by my actions, both consequences of my recklessness. He reached for my hand over the covers and squeezed it gently.
“Never…Neverdo that again.” His voice was painful, as if it took all his energy to speak. “You have so much more to live for, even if you did care about him more than you admit. I think Azriel would have been equally pissed you did such a thing, Arya. Especially on his behalf.”
I laid back in the bed, my head hitting the headboard with an audiblethump. “I didn’t do it just for him. I did it for myself, as well. I was so hurt, so tired of the darkness stealing everything I care about. I’m so over being helpless against it all. I’m ready to fight back.”
He shook his head but smiled anyway. “I know you, sis. I know you always have a good reason driving your mistakes. But next time, don’t face them alone. Okay?”
A small smile spread across my face, and I nodded.
“Besides,” he shrugged a shoulder. “You killed a fucking vamp.”
“I killed a vamp,” I repeated, my smile growing wider. “Have the watchers said anything since I arrived? Any updates on the queen?”
Loren shook his head. “The mountain has been quiet. A scout said they did see a patrol move into the valley but lost sight of the caravan as it went deeper into the hills.”
“A caravan? But soldiers have never ventured to West Mirth. At least, not as far as I know.” Much had been kept from us under the mountain. There was no telling what the queen hid from her runners over the years. If the queen had required the services of the Dark Army, we never knew, never noticed.
“Aye, they were transporting something. We just don’t know what.”
“Well, it’s not the leystones, at least we know that much,” I said with a triumphant wink. “They were in my pocket still, right?”
He nodded, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Oh, they were indeed. The watchers were very pleased, probably why they worked so hard to keep you alive. You’re famous around here now.”
My brows lifted slightly on my face. “Famous?”
