Onyx Blood [True North series book 2/3]

I ran back to Thoridor’s chamber as fast as my legs could carry me. I zoomed past my own door — no way I was sleeping in there anymore. Even without Thoridor here, I’d still rather sleep in his bed by myself than in my own one. I’d go back for my garments in the morning. I slipped into Thoridor’s room, and got into his bed. I snuggled into the covers, enveloping myself in his lingering scent. He smelled so good. I wondered how much of that was because of the bond though.

I flung a quick thought at him, just a “be safe.” Thoridor didn’t respond, but I did feel a presence of some kind weighing down on my mind.

“Thor?” I called out softly, “is that you?” A low roar rippled back through the bond. His beast. I wondered if I could talk to him too, somehow.

“Are you okay?” I whispered. There was no response, just that presence. It was as if his beast was in the room with me — just standing there, in the dark. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel he was there. I could hear his breathing too, if I really focussed — a quick, labored panting.

I thought back to the time I had met him, Thoridor’s beast. He had licked me — leaving a sparkly trail where his tongue had touched me. I had thought his saliva was venomous. Little did I know. He had licked my tears away. I wondered if that had been his way of trying to comfort me while I cried. I wondered if he had known about the way Thor was treating me, forced to look through his eyes as he alienated his mate. I wondered if Thor had had to fight him internally.

I turned to my side, and clutched Thoridor’s pillow to my chest, breathing in his scent, and snuggled deeper into the covers. I was cold. I shivered, and pulled my knees to my chest, curling myself into a small ball around the pillow. I waited for a while until I’d begin to warm up, but I didn’t. I stuck my nose out from under the covers, and peered at the fire in the corner of the room. It had all but died out.

I reluctantly got out of bed, and grabbed one of Thoridor’s fur-lined coats, wrapping it around me. I kneeled down by the fire, and picked up the poker to try and reignite the fire. I threw on a few pieces of firewood, and poked around in the embers again. Heat began radiating off the crackling logs, and I scooted as close as I could without burning myself. Once I finally felt as though I had warmed up enough to be able to fall asleep, I went back to the bed. As soon as I sat down, though, I was cold again.

I went back and forth between the fire and the bed three more times, and then finally gave up. I pulled the mattress off the bed, and put it in front of the fire. I buried myself in blankets and pillows, and finally fell asleep.

I woke up with my heart in my throat. Something was wrong. Panic washed over me in waves, as I feverishly tried to figure out what had shaken me from my sleep.

“Thoridor?!” I yelled down the mind-link, as I scrambled out of my make-shift bed by the fire. “Thoridor, talk to me.”

He didn’t respond — but I could tell he was there. Not his beast, Thor. He was there, and I knew he could hear me, but he wasn’t responding. Why was he not responding? And why was he not in beast form? Was the battle over? Had we won?

I ran out into the hallway, half-expecting to find people there. I knew it was likely night time —I could never truly be certain in this dark land— but still, for some reason, I had expected to run into someone. There was nobody there though, the palace hallway was eerily quiet. I ran through down to the dining hall first, and then the throne room. I went back to the bed chambers, and pounded on Warrian’s door, and then Phaedra’s. Neither of them responded.

“Thor?!” I called out again, and again, was met with that heavy silence.

Nausea settled into the pit of my stomach — why was he not answering me? I pulled Thor’s jacket around me a little tighter, as cold settled into me again. I contemplated going to Ilowyn’s tower, but realized that had been her atelier — not her bed chambers. There was no reason for her to still be there. So I went to the only other place I could think of.

I ascended those stone steps I had frequented since my return, and I knocked on the wooden door. Aeloria didn’t respond. I knocked again, harder and faster this time, trying to calm my ragged breathing.

“Enter,” she finally called out. “Ah,” she sighed as I entered, “I wondered when you’d show up.”

I walked straight to her bed, where she was leaning back against the floral wall.

Aeloria was looking up at the dome of water over the uncovered part of her tower. “It’s claustrophobic, isn’t it?” she asked, “trapped under the water like this. Do you long for the sky, child?”

I nodded, as I followed her eyes up. “I do,” I replied, “but that’s not what I’m here for.”

“I know,” Aeloria smiled, “I know why you’re here.”

“Is he okay?” I pleaded, “I feel like he’s not speaking to me for a reason — like he’s hiding something. But he’s there, he’s not shutting me out, like he was before. I don’t know what that means.”

Aeloria bobbed her head at me. “The Shadowroot,” she said, “then we’ll talk.”

I smiled faintly at her, and took her head into my hands. “Sometimes, we make decisions we think are best, for those we love the most,” Aeloria said, sliding off the mossy bed to give me better access to her scalp, as I began digging out the Shadowroot.

“Sometimes, those decisions lead the other to feel, or quite literally become, trapped.” I paused, my fingers freezing in place, as I let her words dawn on me. “Are you saying he locked me in here?”

I mumbled, creasing my forehead in confusion. “I’m saying,” Aeloria said slowly, with that whimsical voice of hers, “sometimes, when we’re trapped, the only one who can truly set us free us, is ourselves.”

I squinted my eyes, and pulled out a little more Shadowroot. “I wish you would just give me a clear answer every once in a while,” I mumbled, “it’d be so refreshing.”

I uncovered more and more of the black, ragged roots that were digging their way into Aeloria’s scalp, leeching away nutrients.

“I need some fire,” I said, “to scorch the ends of this root. Otherwise it will grow back in no time.” Aeloria rested her head back against her knees and closed her eyes.

“Don’t we all,” she mumbled, “I can’t have fire in my tower. Best I can do is a bit of summoned sunlight. Will that work?”

“It’ll have to,” I replied hesitatingly. Aeloria cupped her hands together.

“Close your eyes,” she said. Even with my eyes closed, I could see the brightness of the light growing in the palms of her hands.

“Just point it at the spot I was just digging in,” I said, as I covered my eyes with my hands, to keep from getting blinded.

“It’s done,” Aeloria said, “did it work?”

I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the darkness again, and inspected Aeloria’s scalp.

“It looks shriveled,” I shrugged, “I guess that’s good.” Aeloria rolled back her shoulders, and stood up. “I feel better,” she said, and turned to me. “Well then,” she said, gesturing to the door, “time to go free yourself, child. And bring your cloak, when you do.”