Page 25 of Forged By Heart and Claws
No.Vad responded.Only magic. And that’s not working for anyone. Once we’re inside, we’ll lock the door. I mussed the rugin front of my chambers and left a few other clues to lead them to a dead end. He slid an arm around my waist.
I nodded and leaned into his warmth. He grounded me, pushing back the chill of the grief gnawing inside.
We would have our revenge on everyone who’d attacked us, and Calla Lilly would pay.
I’d find one of those venom-coated daggers and show her how much it hurt to bleed out. Then I'd bite her for good measure.
Vad guided me onto the stairs, then pulled the door shut behind us with a firmsnick. His arm remained around my waist, anchoring me as we stepped down the narrow stairway.
The walls closed around us. Traces of quartz sparkled in the black stone, catching bits of lamplight. The rock was coarse, uneven in places, though the floor had been worn smoother from use. The staircase spiraled in four tight coils, and our breaths echoed on the walls, the sounds of our friends carrying back to us softly.
We passed several simple, sealed wooden doors, and a shiver of unease shot down my spine.
“Keep going to the gathering room,” Vad called out in a low tone. “It’s the most defensible point and closest to the outer passages. If we have to make a run for it, that’s the best spot.”
He looked down at me. Concern furrowed his brow and radiated through our bond. A jagged edge of pain soon followed, probably from his injured side.
But his determination didn’t waver.You need to rest.
There is no rest.We have to get the medicine for Thalira and Elara,I linked back to him. My mind spun with strategies and timelines.We’ll need food, water, and shelter too.I clutched the blankets closer.
There are underground rivers in the caverns here,he answered.We have access to one near the gathering room, andwe have some food stores. Enough for a couple of days, but the passages will help us reach the outside.
We rounded the corner to find a single door, soft golden light spilling from the doorway. Inside, the room was lined with shelves that contained boxes, cloth, and supplies.
Rhielle knelt beside Thalira and wrapped a blanket tightly around her trembling shoulders. Quen sat beside them, whispering as she gently pushed the hair back from Thalira’s clammy forehead.
Silus set Elara down on a thick black leather mat. Her breathing was still too shallow. Vyraetos knelt beside her, fingers pressed to her pulse, his jaw tight. Thalen crouched beside her, holding out a dark waterskin, and Myantha hovered behind him, hands braced on her knees.
Many-Greats set out ointments and salves between Thalira and Elara as Vyraetos kept shaking his head.
At the far end, Veralt rifled through the boxes. “There’s dried fruit and salted meat here. Not much else.”
Stepping into the room, I wrapped my arms around myself. Vad squeezed my arm once more, and I managed a small nod and started toward Thalira and Elara.
A flash of movement startled me.
Before I could react, Silus lunged at Vad.
His fist connected with Vad’s jaw in a sickening crunch.
CHAPTER 6
Briar
Silus’s punch echoed like a gunshot in the chamber.
My body snapped to attention.
What the actual fuck!
Vad staggered backward, slamming into the doorframe. Pain twisted his features as he struck his wounded side and fresh blood seeped through the already soaked bandage. He grunted as he shot one clawed hand out and dug into the wooden shelf beside him to keep himself from falling.
"This is all your fault," Silus spat, looming over Vad with rage burning in his eyes. "Every death. Every drop of blood. It's on your hands!” His voice cracked. “And now our magic is gone. All of it, because ofher.I told you she wastrouble.I bet you regret your decision now."
Vad rebounded, moving past me to get to him, but I linked,Stop. Please. For me. He’s upset, scared, and hurt. Let me handle this.
Silus’s words had cut because he was right. The loss of magic had been because Vad chose me. Maybe he did regret it, and the fated mate bond was the only reason he was being protective of me. Not by choice but a fated duty.
