Seeds of Sorrow (Immortal Realms Book 1)

Seeds of Sorrow: Chapter 36



Thank the sun, moon, and sea, Draven is alive! Relief flooded her, however short-lived it was. It didn’t matter that he’d cast her out of Andhera, only that he was here now. The press of Draven’s lips had been enough to reassure Eden that it was no dream, but now was not the time to dwell on her feelings, not as the king of Midniva lay in a pool of blood.

Kneeling by Travion’s side, horror washed over her.

Eden’s blood cooled against her skin as her wound healed, but the throbbing pain remained. It wasn’t a mortal injury, and she would live to see another day, but by the sun, as she beheld the state King Travion was in . . . His pale freckled skin was a shade of alabaster no one amongst the living should have been. The thick leather armor he wore had been torn away from his torso, exposing more than a cotton shirt. Blood oozed with every beat of his heart and spilled onto the marble flooring.

Eden could handle this. She had to. She wouldn’t let her mother stain her conscience and take away Travion’s life. She would save him, even if it drained the rest of her power. Eden had managed to heal herself on the way inside the castle, which, coupled with her fighting, had drained the well of power considerably.

“Hold on, Travion.” Eden’s nimble fingers gently pulled at the tattered remains of his armor and shirt, but as the crooning voice of her mother filled the space, she blanched and stood upright.

“Mama . . . please, don’t do this.” Sorrow filled Eden for what her mother had become, what her bitterness had twisted her into. This wasn’t the mother Eden had known when she was a little girl. Not the same mother that had held her and read her stories, wiped away her tears, or cleaned a scuffed knee.

No. The fae who stood before them, with a scowl and her fingers tapping against the leather book, was a monster. But in her heart, she was still Eden’s mother, and if she could use that to their advantage, she would.

Naya’s eyes flicked to Eden’s wound. “Eden . . . ” She choked on a frustrated sob as she took a step forward, then stiffened as she halted. “You should have stayed in Lucem. I left you there to keep you safe.”

That was the running theme it seemed. But how safe was Lucem, with the threat of beasts ravaging the light realm? However, in her mother’s mind, she was useless and therefore shelved away so someone could pull her out and dote on her later. Eden was more than tired of being shoved away so everyone else could handle things. She was aware of Draven’s emotions colliding with her own, which was, for the most part, a roaring rage.

“I know,” Eden said softly as she walked forward. “But this isn’t right. This isn’t at all what Papa would want. You know that.” She shook her head and felt the prick of tears sting her eyes. “In his name, you’d do this?”

“Eden! What other options do I have?”

Briefly, Eden wondered what she would have done in her mother’s position. Before? She’d have mourned, grown angry, and learned to cope with the hollowness. But now? Tearing three realms apart wasn’t what Eden would’ve done. “Mourn and live as Papa would have wanted you to.” Eden continued to move closer. Her mother didn’t step forward, but neither did she pull back.

Naya’s face twisted with grief and a hint of regret. “It’s far too late for that.” Her eyes flicked toward Draven, and she shook her head. “I cannot forgive what has been taken from me.”

“No! You can end this now. Draven has taken nothing from you, and Travion took nothing from you. Please, Mama.” Eden stood in front of her mother, blocking her view of Draven. One of Eden’s hands lifted toward her mother’s cheek, and she cupped it gently. Guilt tugged at her heart, because while she wanted nothing more than for her mother to relinquish the book, she knew she wouldn’t, and Eden was merely attempting to distract her.

Naya leaned into her touch, but the moment Eden’s fingers curled around the book, she stiffened. “You’ve always been honest to a fault, so I will blame this attempt at deceiving me on another.” She hissed and shoved Eden away from her. In the same instant, she held out her hand, and a familiar blast of power hurled Eden to the floor.

An unearthly growl erupted from behind her. Draven rushed forward, teeth bared and poised to rip into Naya, except the same spell brought him to his knees. It was difficult to watch as he fought against the binding.

Eden clawed at the tiles, unable to lift herself. “Mama!” She looked to her mother, then at Draven. Anger colored his face as he fought against the restraint. Seeing him in such a state infuriated Eden. She wanted to reach out to the earth, call upon vines, but she needed her strength for Travion.

Still, tiles quaked beneath her as she reached out to the potted tree. The roots shattered the porcelain container, then erupted toward her mother. Except they shriveled before connecting with her. Eden deflated.

“Foolish girl.” Naya ignored Eden’s pleas and muttered unfamiliar words beneath her breath as she flicked through the book until she landed on a page that gratified her. A new round of unfamiliar words spilled from her mouth. An ancient, old tongue. With a snap, Naya closed the book.

Draven sucked in a harsh breath as he clutched at his chest. At first, he made no sound, then a gut-wrenching howl of pain erupted from his lips.

“Stop!” Eden cried. “Stop! You’re hurting him.” Eden pressed her forehead against the marble. A torrent of anger poured into her that belonged to her. Fear bled into the anger too.

“I imagine feeling the sun from within when you’re a creature of the night does hurt.”

The sun? Cold filled Eden as she glanced over at Draven. Her mother was going to kill him in front of her. “I will never forgive you.” The hold on her faltered, allowing Eden to rise to a kneeling position. “Ever.” The muscles in her jaw tensed as she narrowed her eyes on her mother. “And if you think I will choose to remain with you, think again, because I won’t. I am not your pet, and I certainly wouldn’t choose to be your companion in life.” Eden strained against the wall pressing her down.

Unlike before, Naya didn’t allow her hold to lighten. Tension hardened the already harsh angles of her face. “I don’t need you to love me, but I need you to live in a different world. One without the taint of the kings.”

A manticore strolled in behind Naya, its nails clicking on the floor before it sat on its haunches beside her. The spiked tail flicked in annoyance, or perhaps in anticipation of its attack.

Eden twisted to look back at Draven, who had slumped to the floor and was now convulsing. If hate alone were an ability, she’d have torn her mother to shreds. “Let him go!”

Naya motioned toward Travion’s still body. “I think it’s poetic. A creature belonging to Andhera has slain Midniva’s king. Draven, in some fashion, is responsible for his brother’s death, and that very beast will be his end.”

Eden dragged her gaze back to the beast, and for a moment, she thought it winked at her. “I hate you.” She had no more words for her mother, only hatred. She’d slaughtered so many, pinned deaths on Draven, then sent Midniva into chaos.

Naya stepped to the side, the book clutched against her chest. “End him,” she ordered the manticore. Her icy tone was like a spear through Eden’s heart.

The manticore snarled as he stood, muscles coiling as he readied to leap, but as he launched forward, much to Eden’s confusion, it wasn’t at Draven but at Naya. She crashed to the floor hard, knocking her chin on the ground at just the right angle to render her unconscious. The book slid across the floor, beyond Travion’s prone body.

The pressure on Eden disappeared, and in an instant, she was scrambling toward Draven. She gathered him in her arms, her hand cupping his cheek. “Draven, look at me.” Eden swallowed against the burn in her throat. She slid her fingers down the back of his neck and spread them so she could allow a flood of healing to surge into him. What damage had been done?

Draven mumbled against her chest. His limbs sluggishly pushed him upward, and when his blue eyes caught hers, her heart clenched. He was alive. But how long would they be alive with the manticore in the room?

Eden looked over her shoulder. The pacing beast’s image shimmered, and in another moment, a very naked Zryan stood over Naya, scowling down at her.

“Zryan?” Eden blinked. “Don’t kill her. We’re not done with my mother yet.” Eden ground her words out, then lifted her wrist to Draven’s mouth. “I need you to be more than okay right now. Drink.”

His fingers curled around her wrist as his fangs popped out. A familiar sting, then nothing as he fed off of her.

Draven’s grip tightened as his strength recovered, and when he’d sampled enough to return an ample amount of his energy, he released her wrist. “Travion.”

Eden didn’t need to hear more than that. She rushed to Midniva’s king and felt for his pulse. A faint thrum beat in his neck. “Travion, I’m not going to give up on you, so don’t give up on us.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill her for what she has done to us?” Zryan muttered behind Eden, and when she glanced at him, he was bent over, tying her mother up with one of the drape’s ropes. It seemed it was a question he didn’t want an answer to. He twisted to look over at Draven. “Are you all right? Is Trav . . . ”

“I’m alive,” Draven muttered. “Travion is . . . ” He swallowed roughly.

Turning back to the fallen king, Eden peeled away the shredded articles of armor and clothing. Blood had clotted in the short amount of time, but with Travion’s torso torn open, there was little good the clotting would do. By no means was Eden a trained physician, and aside from nicks and cuts, or a fractured bird’s wing, she’d never healed anything as gruesome as his wounds.

“I need a bowl of water and clean linen right now. And for the love of the sun, remove my mother from this room.” She turned her gaze to Zryan and wondered if the same fire she felt blazed within her eyes. “I can’t move Travion until the open wounds are healed. Any movement . . . ” And it would be his true end. But she didn’t want to voice her concern, not that she had to. “If he has a healer, grab them too.”

Eden ran her hand along the tip of the wound, which started at his shoulder. It was less severe there, so she allowed her ability to rush in. The skin pulled taut as she moved her hand down, and she imagined the skin healing layer by layer, weaving together again, much like a tapestry.

By the time she reached the more severe location, a bowl of water and clean linen had been brought to her. She dabbed at the wound, then realized she needed help. “Draven, I can’t keep my hands on him and tuck his vitals back in at the same time.” Eden’s hands and ability moved of their own accord as she allowed her mind to travel far, far away. She didn’t want to focus on the hot blood coating her fingers, or the nearly dead king laying on the floor.

Draven knelt beside her, shaking his head, but his eyes focused intently on her. “Tell me what to do.”

Eden mopped up fresh blood, then started to tuck Travion’s flesh in as it should have been. “Hold this down, because as I move, his skin is going to seal.” Her stomach lurched, but she thought of the sun beaming down on her, feeding nutrients to the flowers, and nymphs playing in ponds.

Draven caught her gaze, and she saw a silent question: Can you do this?

“I’m not going to give up on him, okay?” As exhausted as she was, Eden was prepared to give the last ounce of her energy supply to Travion if it meant saving him.

Heat poured from Eden’s palm as she raked it down his torso, and as the warmth spread across Travion’s flesh, it healed. She swept her hand downward, applying enough pressure that more blood rushed forth. Eden intensified the outpour of energy on the more crucial area, and Draven nimbly tucked flesh and organs back inside.

By the time she was finished, blackness framed Eden’s vision, and she swayed. Just as she leaned forward to check Travion’s pulse, he sucked in a wet breath and coughed. Although he didn’t stir as much as Eden wanted, hope blossomed within.

Draven shifted his bloodied hand to rest against his brother’s rising chest, and the tension which had creased the corners of his eyes eased. “You’ve done it,” he murmured, then frowned before he snaked an arm around her. “Eden?”

“I’m fine,” she murmured, leaning against him for support. “I need rest. The healer will need me later.” Between her efforts in Lucem, outside the castle, and nearly reviving Travion, Eden was fighting to keep her eyes open. Exhaustion pulled at her, weighing her down.

Draven leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “Whatever you need, you’ll have it.”

Concern filled her, and she wondered if it was her own or his. “Draven, are you—”

He slanted her a look, then pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I’m here.”

Eden knew better than to press for more of an answer. He wasn’t well, she could see, but he was alive, and that was something both of them could be thankful for in the moment.


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