Page 68 of Vows Forged in Blood

“Help her up, Mal,” she says quietly. “Do it now. We’ll follow, but she needs to do this. Trust me.”

Malcom doesn’t question it, simply strides forward and lifts me by the waist, settling me on top of the giant horse.

“Ride swift, my Lady.”

With that, I dig my hands into Xerxes’ mane and he takes off like a bolt of lightning.

“Come on, boy. Get me to him,” I beg. “Please get me to him.” The horse runs faster than I’ve ever seen him run, the camp falling away quickly and the forest blurring around us as we speed towards Alaric. My heart threatens to burst through my chest, terror consuming me and making it almost impossible to breathe. What could have happened? He can’t be hurt, not truly. He’s…Alaric. Nothing can harm him…right?

We run on and on, and though I know the journey takes hours, it flies by so quickly that it seems like mere moments. I ignore the pain in my thighs, the chill seeping into my bones. We speed towards the temporary camp, not slowing as shouts arise from those on patrol, cries of warning and then of recognition. We run through the makeshift camp, passing rows of tents and huddles of men around fires. Somehow Xerxes knows exactly where to go, drawn to his master, I assume, and we pull up to a hard stop just outside the largest tent. The warhorse is frothing with exhaustion and I can only pray that he hasn’t pushed himself too far. I slide from his back, hitting the ground hard and falling to my knees, but I ignore the flare of pain. I force myself up and give Xerxes a grateful pat before stumbling towards the opening of the tent. Elias’ head snaps up when I enter, quickly crossing to me.

“Dahlia? What are you?—”

“Where is he?” I demand. “What happened?!” I stalk past Elias, charging further into the tent—and freezing in absolute horror. Alaric is on a raised pallet of furs, bare from the waist up and writhing in pain. There’s a gaping wound in his chest, one that…isn’t healing. Why isn’t he healing? Dark lines branchout from the wound, like tentacles of some sea beast. His body is slick with sweat and trembling, his skin flushed with what I assume is fever.

There are a few others in the tent, but I can’t focus on any of them. All I can see, all I care about is Alaric. Elias steps up beside me.

“Silver, my Lady,” he says quietly. “An arrow was tipped with silver powder and it’s gotten into his blood stream.” He takes a deep breath and my heart stops beating as he says the next words:

“There’s…there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

Chapter 34

ALARIC

The pain is unending, a burning from within that’s consuming me inch by inch. I try to fight against it, pushing back with all my might, but it’s only a matter of time. I know that I’m back in my tent, having vague flashes of my men dragging me from the battlefield as the agony pulled me in and out of consciousness.

Kilgren planned this. Despite the pain making my thoughts a snarling mess of excruciating pain, I know that Kilgren planned this without a doubt in my mind. It’s why he tested the arrow all those months ago. It’s why he had such numbers with him, most of them waiting behind the lines until…until I fell. I know my army will not give up until the very last one of them breathes their last breath, but this fight will not be easy, especially without me there.

Another wave of fire burns through me and I grit my teeth, trying to stop another broken scream from tearing past my lips. I’ve been tortured more than once in my long life. I’ve been flayed, broken, and burned; I’ve had limbs cut off and regrown; I was once buried in snow for weeks, the cold slowly killing my extremities while I clawed my way out with bloody, numbfingers (fucking Ahmed…).But none of that compares to this pain. This is agony on a level that I didn’t think could exist. I tried to fight past it, to remain silent and strong as I suffered, but I lost that battle far sooner than I would like to admit.

Now, I’m nearly delirious with the pain. I don’t have the strength to open my eyes any longer, but as I float on the surface of consciousness, I can hear voices around me. Elias, a few other soldiers, and then…Dahlia? I must be on the cusp, the Goddess of Death coming to collect me finally, but giving me this gift of hearing my mate’s voice one last time, even if it’s a mere hallucination.

“What do you mean nothing can be done?” she snaps.

“It’s spread too far, my Lady. There’s no way we can stop it,” Hawthorn answers.

“Bullshit!” Dahlia screams. “Bloodletting! Or…or…leeches! That’s what human healers do! Use fucking leeches to suck the poisoned blood away!”

“It’s too late,” someone else whispers, but I don’t know who.

“No. No! Don’t touch me!” she screams at someone. “Therehasto be something. He’s the High General. He’s a fuckingprince! You have to do something!” I want to tell her that it’s ok, that I’m sorry and that I love her, but I can’t make my body obey even the smallest of commands.

“Elias,please,” Dahlia begs, voice breaking. What must my other men be thinking to see her like this. Consorts are not known for being this…protective over their princes. I can’t spare much effort to worry about what they’re thinking as the pain spikes again, making my body nearly give out. My heart stutters and even I wonder for an endless moment if it will start again.

“Everyone out,” Elias suddenly demands. “Now! Lady Dahlia needs time to say goodbye in private.”

“No. No, gods damn you! I’m not giving up, there has to be something! I won’t say goodbye, I won’t fucking do it, Elias, I—” Her voice cuts off abruptly.I wonder why…“Out!” Dahlia demands a moment later, the full authority of a noble Consort echoing in her voice. I want to smile as a twinge of pride swells in my chest.This really is the strangest death dream though…

I can hear retreating steps and then I sense her beside me. Her scent fills me, her presence somehow easing a bit of the pain. She’s really here? How?? No, she’s too close to the battle! She must go, she must get as far from here as she can. Should the lines fall and the Revenants break through…

“Will this work?” she asks quietly.

“It’s the only hope we have,” Elias says. I want to ask them what in the hells they’re talking about. I want to demand that Elias get my mate away from here. I want to tell Dahlia that I love her more than life itself and kiss her, just one last time. But I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t do anything but lie here and fucking burn.

Elias leans close to my ear and whispers, “I’m sorry, brother. I know it wasn’t my secret to tell, but…well, your life means more to me than your secrets.”I don’t understand…

“Do it,” Dahlia says, steel in her voice. A moment later, the scent of her blood fills the air just before something is pressed to my mouth. “Come on, Alaric,” she whispers. “Please.”

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