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CHAPTER 14

LUCAS

A groan escapes my throat as I awaken, blinking blearily around Valen’s empty room to guess at the time. The sun is up and a warm morning breeze wafts in from the open balcony doors. There’s not a hint of a storm to be found. I bet the bluebloods have all sorts of tricks to keep their lands safe while leaving the rest of us to wallow in misery.

The heated air brings on a wave of nostalgia, and my throat aches with it. Hot days in the South always smelled like this, like freshly blooming flowers and sunbaked earth. The scent of warm ocean salt is missing, but I can forgive it.

My heart weighs heavily when I recall the harrowed, drawn face of my mother sitting at the kitchen table, a small smile warming her tense face. Her hair was darker than mine, her eyes a beautiful hazel blue that mirrored my grandmother’s. They both had a warmth about them, especially in the way they would look at me. My mother seemed somehow older, more haunted than my grandmother.

I exhale harshly, my hands tightening as the leeching sensation over my old wound begins again. Damn it. I don’t need the additional reminder of how awful losing the two of them was. I’ve already lived through that chapter in my life. I’ve grieved them. I’ve laid them to rest. I freed myself from Dimitar. I fell in love.

I rub the bandage over my scar and swallow against the tightness building. Tori won’t end up like them. I swear to both my mother and grandmother. I’ll keep this last remaining woman I love safe and alive.

Maybe then, I can finally forgive myself for failing the previous two.

With that last grim thought, I let go to run my hands over my face and rake my tangled hair back. Knots immediately ensnare my fingers, and I frown while trying to tease them apart. I must’ve tossed and turned all night. I don’t remember falling asleep after talking with Valen. I don’t know if he slept in his bed last night. There’s some sort of charm on the bedding to smooth the blankets and freshen the sheets with the sweet scents of herbs, so it’s impossible to tell without activating my rings.

The weight of the past is not easy to shake off, and I scan the empty room for a distraction. Another effervescent blue drink sits on the side table with a note tucked under it. The condensation drips down it but doesn’t soak into the paper.

I reach for it and brace for the pain in my hands but am only greeted with small twinges and aches. Damn, Valen is good at this. Tori is right. He should’ve been a healer.

The glass is delightfully cold, and I flick open the folded note. The magic keeping it safe from the condensation pooling dispels while I read.

If you have any brain cells left, you would’ve read this before doing anything incredibly stupid. Here are your required tasks while I am busy:

1. Drink this.

2. Do not leave this room.

3. Go into the bathroom.

4. Drink the four potions in the order listed on them.

5. Eat the crumpet AFTER drinking the potions, NOT before.

6. Drop the three sachets of herb packets in the prepared bath like they’re large tea bags. Do not open them.

7. Get into the bath immediately. Keep your bandages on.

8. Stay in the bath until I return.

Did I mention NOT to leave this room? Because I will be very cross if you ruin my incredibly impressive steps towards healing you.

You’ve proven yourself able to obey when motivated before. Do it again.

Or else.

—V

I roll my eyes. He’s so bossy. How Valen and Tori ever survived as a couple is beyond me.

A wave of agony overwhelms my chest. Tor. My arms are heavy as my ineptness and incompetence drag down my mood. I want to hold her, kiss her, tell her I love her even though a shadow of pain lingers in her eyes when I do. I miss her. My sweet Torment.

I exhale harshly. That’s enough misery for one morning. Time to follow Valen’s instructions before I find out what “or else” means. I doubt I’d enjoy that punishment.

I chug down the blue potion and slam the glass down on the side table. Step one done. Now to move on to finding the bathroom.

I swing my legs out of bed and examine the bandaging over my knee. The white wrapping shimmers with some sort of magic, and I flex my leg without a hint of pain. Damn, Valen is really, really good at this. If he wasn’t such an arrogant asshole, Nora would probably love to chat with him about magical medical theory.