Page 29 of A Fate of Blood and Magic (Fated #2)

Through this sacred orb, she gathered the final remnants of power released by magical creatures as they crossed into the afterlife. Energy that would have otherwise unraveled, shifted into the untethered forms the living could neither touch nor wield, was instead captured and repurposed.

What might have become wild, elemental chaos was now a spring of strength. And so the mages were gifted with power enduring, drawn from the threshold of mortality itself.

In reverence, the mages returned her gift. They offered fragments of their own magic and pieces of their souls, so the goddess might feed upon their devotion and strengthen her bond to the moral world.

Thus, a covenant was sealed in magic and sacrifice, and for a time, both goddess and mage flourished.

I blinked at the words before I looked up at Alastor. “I don’t understand. I thought Leanora created the orb.”

He rubbed his chin. “As did I. ”

“Did she use the orb to siphon magic then? Or was the magic already there?”

“It seems the magic was already there,” he said, eyes still scanning the book. “But she also used the orb to absorb magic. She stole from me countless times.”

When I put my hand on his knee, he stiffened before he slowly drew his leg away.

“May I?” He gestured toward the book, and I gave it to him.

Slowly, he thumbed through the pages, his eyes bouncing between the text.

“There is much to learn,” he said. “Do you permit me to read at my leisure? I will report back anything pertinent I discover.”

“It’s your book, Alastor,” I said.

“Yet, it is you it answered.”

I bit back my grin. “I’ve been thinking about it, and if you’ll teach me, I’d like to learn more about being a mage and about our magic. I’d also like my boys to know that part of their heritage.”

He was quiet for a moment, long enough I worried I’d upset him. “I’d like that,” he answered. “I think our ancestors would like for our mage line to continue.”

I hadn’t thought about it, but I liked the idea too. For too long, Elias’s history had taught the fae to fear the mages, when it was their king and queen they should’ve feared. While I knew it would hurt Elias to admit the truth to his people, I yearned for him to do so and clear the mage name.

I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would erase years of hate and fear.

But perhaps it would be a start.

“When you come over, do you want to take the journals I wrote about your sister?” I wasn’t sure why I offered except that I wanted to rid myself of the journals but didn’t know what to do with them.

If the fires that had torched Elias’s cabin in Colina hadn’t destroyed the books, I couldn’t imagine it’d be safe to toss them in the trash.

“Yes.” He hesitated. “I don’t know that I’ll read them, but I’d like something of hers. Did she speak to you of our brother?”

“Yes, in the first journal.”

He was quiet long enough that I thought we’d finished our conversation, so I shifted to rise.

“I think Blaise would have liked you.” His voice was quiet and distant, like he was speaking to a memory rather than me. There was something fragile beneath it, something I wasn’t sure was meant for me to hear.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to meet him.”

Hell, I was sorry that the fate of their people—our people—hadn’t just killed the mages but made Leanora so rageful she’d killed one brother while enslaving another.

While countless lives had been lost because of Elias’s parents’ prejudices, Alastor had suffered the most. It was one of the reasons I worked so hard to help him realize he belonged.

It was why I made sure he took care of himself when I knew he’d rather ignore and neglect his headaches than admit to his pain.

He'd told me once he didn’t feel like he could trust anyone.

How could he when his own sister had used him in such awful ways?

So I worked hard at building that trust that didn’t come naturally to him.

Although quiet and serious in nature, he was such a good man, and I was lucky to have him in my life.

I was fortunate to be able to call him family .

Two raps at his front door sounded before a lirio entered, ducking his head so he wouldn’t hit it.

“Miss Teddy,” the male said, bowing his head slightly. “There’s a royal guard at the border asking to see you.”

“A royal guard?” Cold sweat broke out over my skin when I thought of why a guard would be asking for me.

With Alastor at my side, I raced behind the lirio to meet with the guard, worried Elias had returned injured or worse. Or maybe Brenton or Everly had been hurt.

When I reached Pietro, he bowed.

“What is it? Who’s hurt?” I asked.

“No one’s hurt, my lady,” Pietro said, casting a watchful eye at Alastor. “There’s a boy at the orphanage.”

My knees threatened to buckle with relief. As if sensing it, Alastor gripped my elbow.

“He said his name is Kieren, and he’s a friend of your son.”

“Yes, Kieren.” I nodded, confused. Kieren never mentioned he was staying at the orphanage.

“The young male is sick, and with all the healers tending to our returned fae, the headmistress is worried he’ll infect the younglings and babes,” Pietro said.

“That’s fine. I’ll take Kieren home with me,” I told Pietro. “Do you think you could bring Leah to my house to tend to him?”

Black covered his eyes, but with a single blink, that darkness disappeared. “My lady, I think it best we leave our head healer to tend to our wounded.”

I scowled at his hardened words, while shame filled me over my selfishness. “Of course. But if another healer becomes available, can you please bring them?”

Pietro dipped his head down at my request, but I didn’t feel better until Alastor placed a reassuring hand on my back .

“You don’t have to come with me,” I told Alastor, knowing that being around the people of Niev made him uncomfortable. Not because he had anything against them but because of how they acted around him.

For the first time, Alastor reached toward me for a hug. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”

Alastor tipped his chin down at Pietro, who sneered in reply. Eyes darkening, Alastor blinked twice and left.

“That’s my cousin,” I told the guard, tilting my chin up in challenge as we walked away from Tera Insaldame. “I am part mage. Do you have a problem with either?”

With a grimace, the male’s light complexion paled. “No, my lady. You have my apologies for offending you and your cousin.”

“I doubt Alastor cares what you think of him,” I said. “But I won’t have you or anyone disrespecting my own in front of me.”

“Of course, my lady. I apologize.” He narrowed his heated eyes in what I could only call a backhanded apology.

Asshole.

Alastor’s magic brushed against my mind, and I opened myself to speak to him.

“You needn’t have done that,” he said.

“Oh, but I did,” I retorted, suddenly disliking the messenger. “You’d agree if you had seen the way the blood drained from his face. Who knew I could be so fearsome?”

Although he walked in the other direction, Alastor’s loud laughter reached me.

In one of our spare bedrooms, I rested my palm over Kieren’s fevered forehead, and when his next shiver made him tremble harder, I tucked the blanket closer to him.

“I’m sorry they summoned you to get me,” Kieren said with his eyes closed. “I told them not to. I shouldn’t have told Mistress Barrera I knew you, but you were the only one I thought might get me. I forgot you were pregnant. I’m so sorry.”

I ran a hand through his sweaty hair, wishing the water I heated in the kitchen would boil quicker so I could prepare the tea the headmistress had given me.

“I’m glad they called me,” I told him.

On his side, he pressed a hand to his stomach.

When he inched forward, I put the deep basin beneath his chin in time to catch his vomit.

I rubbed small circles across his back as he vomited more, and I wasn’t surprised when the retching stopped and he started dry heaving.

Already, he’d spilled his stomach more than I’d ever seen anyone vomit.

When he crawled away from the basin and settled his head back on the pillow, I set the basin carefully on the floor before I turned to a bowl filled with cool water.

After picking up a small rag from the bowl and squeezing most of the water out of it, I put it across his forehead.

He squeezed the rag harder, making water dribble across his face.

He was slow to open his eyes, and when I noticed the pain that lingered, I stood to turn off the lights in the room.

“Is that better?” I asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

He closed his eyes, clutching a hand to his stomach. I took the rag to dip it into the water. After wringing it out, I placed it on his forehead again.

“You’re pregnant,” he reminded me. “You shouldn’t be in here taking care of me. What if you get sick? ”

When I removed the rag, I noted how quickly it’d warmed. I didn’t like how high his fever was. Although Mistress Barrera had given me herbs for his fever and nausea, they hadn’t given him any at the orphanage. Instead, he’d suffered through hours without relief or anyone to help him.

“If I get sick, I get sick,” I said. “The boys and I will be fine. In my realm, pregnant women get sick all the time, and nothing happens to them or the babies.” I wasn’t exactly sure how true that was, but I’d seen enough pregnant women back in Colina with colds that I felt certain we’d be fine. “I’m going to check on your tea.”

I quickly changed out the rag so he’d have something cool on his forehead.

I remembered Javier saying his mom had once told him to put a rag on Jasmine’s forehead when she’d been sick.

Her underarms too, but with the way Kieren shivered, I was worried about doing so.

He seemed to find a little relief with the coolness on his forehead, though.