Page 44 of Vows Forged in Blood

Vale, brother.

The tears continue, though I manage not to sob. I feel empty and hollow as I say my silent goodbyes, thanking them for what they gave to protect me. Telling them that I’ll miss them. Telling them I’m sorry.

After the last pyre is lit, the soldiers all bow their heads and thump their fists over their chests three times in perfect synchrony. That’s apparently all there is to it. They begin to leave their formation in quiet, practiced precision, but I don’t move. I stare at the flames for what feels like forever, and, to my surprise, Alaric stays beside me. He doesn’t speak, but his presence beside me is a comfort that I can’t help but cling to.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly as the flames finally begin to die, smoke and ashes sifting on the wind towards the mountains.

Alaric turns to me, but before he can say anything, one of the men calls his name. He turns towards the voice and before he can turn back again, I walk away. He doesn’t come after me but I don’t expect him to. I find Wesley and Nova waiting on me near the path back to the cabin and Takara tells me she’ll see me in a while, letting me have my time with my friends and, I suspect,going to spend time with Malcom. I squeeze her hand before she walks away, silently thanking her for too many things all at once.

I throw my arms around Wesley’s neck, a fresh wave of tears scalding my eyes.

“Gods, Dahlia, I can’t believe…When I heard what happened…Fuck, I wasterrified,” Wesley confesses, squeezing me almost too tightly. I bury my face in his neck for a long moment and when I pull back, he chucks me under the chin lightly. “I just found you again. Don’t you dare try to leave me already.”

I laugh a little bit through tears before Nova yanks me into a bear hug.

“We were so worried,” she says quietly. She pulls back and holds me at arm’s length. “You’re alright? We heard you almost lost your whole damn arm, that you almost…” She trails off, beautiful face pinched with worry.

I nod. “I am.” Mostly. “My arm is all healed thanks to Alaric’s blood.” I sigh. “It was…scary. Terrifying, actually. I don’t know how you do it, day in and day out.”

“It’s alright to be scared. I still am some days. If you aren’t afraid, you aren’t alive,” Nova assures me.

“But I just…Istoodthere. I was completely frozen by the fear for far too long.” I shake my head in frustration, remembering how I’d done nothing while the chaos and fighting erupted around me, while the others bled and, in three awful cases, died for me.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Nova says. “Truly. The first time I came face-to-face with a Revenant, I nearly wet myself—well, I would have if I was still human, I mean. I froze, couldn’t even lift my blade. Someone else cut the bastard down before he could gut me like a fish, thankfully. And that was after ayearof training at the academy and another here at the camp.So, you shouldn’t feel anything but proud that you even made it out of there alive.”

They ask if I want to go back to Third Quadrant with them, drink until I can’t remember my own name, but I decide to hold on to that offer for another night. I just want to be alone for a bit. We say our goodbyes and make my way to the field behind the cabin, collecting stones as I go.

Chapter 22

DAHLIA

“What are you doing?” Alaric asks softly from behind me. I don’t gasp or start in surprise—I’dfelthim approaching, like a warmth spreading through my veins from the center of my chest.

I’m on my knees beneath a towering scarlet oak on the far end of the field. It’s night now, but there are no clouds and the moon is full and bright, giving me plenty of light to see by. Plus, with all of Alaric’s blood, my senses are keener than usual—I can see pretty damn well in the dark for the time being. I place another smooth stone on the stack. Two others stand beside it, already completed.

“I’m saying goodbye in my own way,” I tell him.

“May I?”

I glace up at him. Though I wasn’t surprised by hisarrival, I’m surprised by hispresence—why is he here? He’s been avoiding me at all costs for months. Now he’s out here with me…and he seems almost nervous? Regardless of the reason, Iremind myself that he is my prince and I’m his Consort and he can do whatever he damn well pleases, so I nod. He sinks to his knees beside me and eyes the rocks with interest.

“My father’s people, they build cairns like these in memory of the dead, a way to honor them. The funeral rites were beautiful, but I just…I wanted to do this for me, to honor them in the way of my family.”

“I think that’s…lovely.” I glance up at him in confusion, but he’s staring down at the rock in his hand as he twirls it between his long, deft fingers. “Are you alright?” His voice is low and rough, and I know he isn’t talking about my state of mourning.

“I am.” I would swear a small shudder runs through his body at that, like he’s been holding on to all the tension in the world, waiting for my confirmation that I’m ok. I don’t understand what’s going on, to be honest. Not at all. But I don’t have the energy to fight against it, not today, and I’d be lying if I said that Iwantedto. Because of the blood he gave me, being near him is like a compulsion, like we’re magnets and I can only be whole if I’m with him. Right now, I’ll take this comfort, forced and false as it may be, and use it to cushion myself against the sorrow and pain.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry that you went through that. I’m sorry that you were hurt and that you were afraid.” He says the next through gritted teeth, fangs sharp and extending before my eyes. “I’m sorry that those bastards somehow attacked what’s mine in what equates to my own home.”

“What’s yours…?” I say quietly, the words sending a strange shiver up my spine. He blinks as if he hadn’t realized he’d even spoken the words out loud.

“My Consort. My men,” he clarifies, and I nod. Of course.

“Thank you,” I say after a few moments of silence. “For saving me.” He’s silent for so long that I finally glance up at him and he looks taken aback, truly at a loss for words, butsomething burns behind his eyes, something I can’t decipher…but something that makes me want to lean into him, to spend the rest of my life trying to figure out.

“You’re welcome,” he says finally, though it doesn’t seem to be what he really wanted to say. I sigh and turn back to the cairn, placing my last stone on top.

“Kane, Cyrus, and Descartes. May the suns find your face. May the winds find your sails. May the gods welcome you home. May we always remember. And may we one day meet again.” My throat feels thick. The last time I said these words was at my mother’s funeral.

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