Page 24 of Sound
“I’ll live. If I remove my hand the creature will die. I’m keeping it alive with my own life. Heal it.”
It looks like my middle brother wants to argue, but after a long moment of shooting daggers at me through his eyes, he looms over the cat. With a disgusted look twisting his face, he places both hands on the creature and I feel his powers stretching inside it, mending everything that is broken or ripped apart. I don’t know how the cat is clinging to life because so many of his bones are broken, so many muscles shredded.
Moël shoves his wrist under my nose.
“Bois."‘Drink’He jerks his chin at me. “It’ll help since Lucien might be awhile. That cursed cat looks like dogs have been chewing on it.”
Keeping my mouth shut so I don’t roar in pain, I take his offering by sinking my fangs in his wrist. Potent immortal blood floods my mouth and soothes the pain to a bearable level. I’m not aware of how bad of shape I’m in until I feel the relief. The longer I drink, the clearer my thoughts are. With it comes the realization that I walked in daylight to save a cat’s life. Until this very moment, everything is like a fog. All I knew was that I needed to come here so Lucien could save the creature. I would’ve stood in the sun if Melody asked me to.
My gut drops to the floor at my feet.
“You don’t look so dazed anymore,” Moël murmurs as he pulls his wrist away.
“Merci.” Licking my lips for the few precious drops, I nod my gratitude to my brother. “Will it live?” Avoiding staring in Moël’s eyes for too long because he sees too much as it is, I turn to Lucien. I don’t want them knowing that unease is eating me inside.
“I don’t know how it was still alive. The fucking thing will live unless I kill it myself.” Nostrils flaring, he holds both hands on the cat for a while longer while we watch. “Your turn.”
“It’s not healed yet.” I can feel my body mending on its own, my brothers blood helping greatly. “I can wait.”
“You can’t wait, and the damn thing is almost as good as new. I’ll get back to it after you stop looking like you’ll keel over.” Pushing on my shoulder, Lucien dumps me in the leather chair. All my protests are swallowed behind a clenched jaw.
Controlling my breathing and closing my eyes, I let him work. On my way here, I didn’t even let myself blink because I was afraid I’d fall asleep and never wake up. What’s left of my skin pulls tight where I’m fisting my hands. Pain is good. Pain means I’m still alive.
“You can talk while I work,” Lucien murmurs, Moël hovering over his shoulder.
“Did you find any answers?” I watch them through heavy lids.
“There is much about the Fae, but nothing saying they need to play an instrument to access their magic.” Warmth spreads through me while Lucien talks, sweat beading around his hairline. “Unless it’s some ploy to hide who they are, they don’t need any object for it.”
“So, we still know nothing is what you’re saying.”
“I thought you’d bring the girl. If you had, we could’ve asked her. Instead, you came back with a cursed cat.” I know the frustration in his voice is because of me, not Melody. Still, it irks me.
“I can’t take her out of there,” I tell them through clenched teeth. “She stops breathing as soon as she takes two steps out of that place.”
“She is bound to the church?” Moël frowns while still looking over Lucien’s shoulder.
“Or to the witch more likely.” Luckily, I am watching my youngest brother as I speak. His lips pressing in a thin line and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes tells me he is holding something back. “Out with it Moël. Now is not the time for second guessing.”
“I’m not sure how true what I read is.” He scratches at the scar on his face. “It’s a lore more than documented facts.”
“Great, while I was working and having my eyes crossed from all the text I was reading, he was checking out fairytales,” Lucien spits but I don’t look away from Moël.
“It’s a so-called prophecy, although it was in the ancient book of documented bloodlines that you dragged with you from the royal library.” Moël keeps scratching at the scar, a quirk of his when he is deep in thought. “It speaks about the ancient gods, immortal bloodlines that were cut short a long time ago. Among the names we all know, there are three that got my attention—especially because one of them is connected with music and playing instruments. Aoide. She is the goddess, or Muse, of song, music, and tune. She prefers string instruments for her powers. I didn’t mention it because it said the bloodlines are long gone. No descendants.”
Stunned, I stare at my youngest brother, the feeling of my skin growing back together forgotten. Lore or not, something inside me stirs at that name, at his words. The inner glow of Melody’s eyes as she gazed at me when she took her breath tugs at my heart. Something powerful and ancient looked at me through those dark irises. I know it as well as I know my own name.
“There are descendants.” I lock my gaze on Moël, and his eyes widen at whatever he sees on my face. “They were just well hidden. For a reason, I might add.”
“The girl.” Understanding spreads over Moël’s features.
“A demigod.” Lucien parks his ass on the desk and whistles low. “Do you know how powerful and potent her immortal blood is? We can level whole cities on it alone.”
“No one touches her blood.” One second I am sitting on the chair, and the next I have Lucien pinned by the throat on my desk. “Are we clear?”
“She really is your mate.” Lucien wheezes, somehow managing to laugh like the asshole he is even when I’m choking him. “Stay away from the muse, got it brother.”
“This is not funny.” Snarling, I push him hard, banging his head on the desk before I release him. “I need to see that text Moël. I don’t think I can leave the house until nightfall. One more stroll through daylight might be my undoing.”
