Page 51 of Bane of the Wild Hunt (Heart of the Tithriall #2)

Chapter fifty

TWO BODIES WITH ONE SOUL

Ornella

A s promised, Aes Mirr was ready when the Wild Hunt returned to begin moving them through two large portals to where the Aes Suri were camped.

Carrick had come with us this time, riding with his son on a disgruntled Serafin, and Asha joined us through the portal to help organize. Her smile and gentle pat on my cheek never failed to make me feel warm and light. Although she betrayed a moment of concern when she caught sight of the hickey on my jaw, only to quickly realize what it really was, and raised her brows at me. Embarrassing as it was to face her with the evidence of my tryst with Sage, I could better understand his intent in leaving the bruises on me. They signalled a change in our relationship and were a physical depiction of his claim.

And I would be lying if I tried to say there was not a part of me that was rather proud of the statement it made. Even if Carrick had glared at his son, and Ciaran had not bothered to hide it when he rolled his eyes.

Darragh was somewhere high above us on a ledge on the mountain, staying away from the common folk and watching over everything. Nuala called him “Guardian” earlier, and I could not help wondering if that was a clue to his past or if it was just part of his identity. Rian and Ciaran had opened the portals, making both of them wide enough that the Aes Mirr villagers could pass through two carts at a time. Sage and I helped along the lines where we could, but this relocation was going much more smoothly than it had with Sage’s village. The Aes Mirr were fully packed and ready when we arrived, and they’d had the time to make sure their elderly and young were ready to be transported. They also did not have dozens of injured fey who could not walk unassisted.

So mostly we both just patrolled either side of the line with our vargr, although sometimes I would catch Sage admiring me from across a cart. And it would bring me to a sudden stop, my heart abruptly galloping through my chest and flooding my body with a flush of awareness. Just catching his eyes on me, unexpectedly, was enough to send me into a full-blown internal meltdown. And he knew exactly what he was doing to me too, I could tell by the cocky grin he gave me before he and Serafin turned to continue walking down their side of the line.

Leaving me to stare after him, brimming with sudden, flustered heat, and unsure how to deal with it in public. Especially when it made Pyrope growl in agitation.

I turned away from him with a huff to wander closer to the front of the line where Nuala was sitting at Rian’s feet with his white vargr curled around her. The fire witch had evidently insisted on coming along with us, and in spite of whatever arrangement they had in which she had given Rian control of her, he had consented to bring her.

She now sat close to him watching as the fey filed by them into his portal. The only person Rian had allowed to interact with her beyond his riders and Carrick was Asha who brought the witch a blanket to sit on.

“Bored yet?” I asked her as I moved tentatively to sit at the very edge of her blanket.

Rian’s vargr, whose name I had not yet learned, raised his head from her lap to watch me and Pyrope approach. I’d seen him snarling viciously at anyone who tried to get too close to the witch. But with a glance up at his rider, who must have told him via their bond that I was allowed to be near her, the white vargr lowered his massive head back onto Nuala’s thigh again.

“I’ve known boredom. This is not it,” she assured me, mindlessly stroking the vargr’s head as her mismatching eyes took in the fey and the mountain and the sky.

She had at times been reserved and cold, like there was a layer of ice inside her, making her dull and unanimated. But for now, her wonder and awe was on display.

“Right,” I muttered, wincing internally at her reminder. When one had been in the dark for years, I supposed even hours of watching the clouds would be enchanting.

“Do not fear offending me. I do not want to be defined by what I have endured,” Nuala insisted softly.

“I am not sure you can avoid that. My past has defined me for the better part of five centuries—”

I hesitated, surprised at the ease with which the words had come out of me. I might have wondered whether part of her soothsayer magic was to loosen tongues, but it was more complicated than that. I already felt a kinship with this fire witch, and it was not only that we had endured similar pasts or that she reminded me so much of Amira. She seemed to have few reservations, no filter, and a very rudimentary concept of manners. That made her authentic and honest, and I appreciated it immensely. There was also something comfortable about Nuala as if she were already confident with Rian and at ease among his riders. Honestly, I envied her a little for that since I still felt like an outsider to them, but perhaps her clairvoyance allowed her to see and know and feel that she belonged.

“You are perhaps right,” Nuala admitted as her eyes lowered to the vargr whose enormous head dwarfed her, and yet she was unafraid of him. “But I am determined to fight it if that is the case. I do not wish to give them a moment more of me by dwelling on it,” Nuala declared.

“Then you are stronger than me. I had not thought of it that way before, but I suppose I have given my enemies centuries more of myself. My pain and anger,” I mused.

“Not stronger. Just different. We all bear our burdens the best that we can,” Nuala murmured with her eyes still on the vargr in her lap who had closed his emerald eyes. Then she looked up at his rider, up at Rian who watched the aes sídhe filing by him and offered them an occasional nod whenever they would smile at him or thank him.

Looking up at him, I suddenly wondered why his vargr was white and if it meant anything. Pyrope was red with green eyes. Serafin was nearly black with a sheen of purple and violet eyes. Aingeal was red with orange eyes, and Gealach was all silver. Every other vargr very closely resembled their rider, and Sage had even said vargr would change to reflect their rider.

But the only way I could see Rian’s vargr resembled him was in those emerald-green eyes.

I also had many questions for Nuala about her strange connection to the Autumn Prince. Most of them I knew to be inappropriate, so I would have to ask about it when he was not near enough to reprimand me.

I almost jumped out of my skin when Nuala abruptly reached for me, her newly perfect fingers brushing down the side of my neck.

Shit . I had removed Rian’s scarf upon leaving his tent and had not anticipated that Nuala would accompany us so I hadn’t covered up again.

“I did not know that bruises could be given in love,” she admitted, looking awed as she admired Sage’s work. “And you display them proudly. Your lover is pleased to show others that you belong to him,” Nuala observed.

Sweet Elements…

I glanced up at Rian who smirked, obviously listening to our conversation, and I wondered if he already knew all of this about his cousin. Sage had said the riders talked about these things, so had they discussed his proclivity for marking up his lovers?

“Well, you all have this move under control,” I noted loudly enough for Rian to hear me. “I should go through the portal and heal more of the injured Aes Suri now that my magic is recouped a little bit.”

“I will inform Sage,” Rian assured me without looking away from the line of aes sídhe. “Although you could do that all on your own if you were initiated.”

“Thank you,” I said, sweeping into a dramatic bow for him before motioning for Pyrope to stay behind. She was not pleased, but she allowed me to go into the portal, moving quickly to avoid confronting Rian’s hint about being initiated into the Wild Hunt.

I was still a little nervous about the prospect of sharing my mind with Sage, but mostly I was excited for that aspect of initiation. There had been so many times when I wished that I could speak to him privately, and I savoured the idea of having access to him even when we were leagues apart. Of being able to seek him out in my mind whenever I needed his affection and assurance.

Not to mention all the ways I would tease him when he could see through my eyes, feel through my hands, and hear through my ears.

And there was a good chance that I could achieve that connection with him without needing to be initiated into the Wild Hunt since he was an anam. I had often felt a tug that I now knew was our bond growing tight between us. And although it still unnerved me after I had seen the bond abused by my people, this was Sage , the only male I’d ever consider willingly sharing myself with like that.

But I had a feeling that would not be enough for Rian. The Autumn Prince seemed keen on a united Wild Hunt which would mean giving the other riders the same sort of access to me. It would mean that what meager privacy I still had remaining would be all gone. And while I might not have any major secrets left, at least none that were of particular concern to the Wild Hunt, that was terrifying. Especially when Ciaran hated me the way he did.

I put the possibilities out of my mind and asked for directions to the injured Aes Suri. I knew from previous discussions with Sage that teine with injured members would erect yurts close together along with the healers.

I reached their section of camp and spied Ivie coming out of the beaded entrance of a tent with a distraught female who was sobbing miserably.

“—will ease his passing,” Ivie was saying as she gave the other female a small bag of what was likely herbs.

“Ivie,” I called, and the healer looked up with tears gathering in her own eyes before they widened at me.

“Ornella! Just one moment,” she added more quietly to the female with her before she came toward me. I noticed she was still wiping blood off her hands onto her apron.

“Everything alright?” I asked her, even though I knew it was not when I glanced at the female behind her who had raised her hands to her face and was crying loudly.

“Well… No. No, it is not,” said Ivie a little frantically, and I could see by her paleness, cracked lips, and sunken eyes that she was utterly exhausted. “I hate to ask this of you since I know that you must already be so—”

“Just take me to whoever is dying,” I ordered her, unwilling to waste time on niceties. Ivie was so relieved that she started to cry as she grabbed my hand to squeeze it thankfully before she dragged me back.

The male inside the yurt was hours from death with his parents, children, and mate grieving for him helplessly as they waited for his time.

I healed him in less than a minute.

Then I healed the female in the next yurt with her very young baby in the bassinet next to her. And the elderly fey surrounded by all his grandchildren. And the adolescent female with a little sister who looked as if her world were cleaving apart. And I healed a dozen more after that.

“The ones who need it most. I am a limited resource,” I’d informed Ivie who was constantly wiping tears of relief and exhaustion from her eyes.

I felt horrible for not coming sooner. My magic had been utterly depleted, and it took much longer to replenish itself in the cold, so there was nothing I could have done in that regard. But if I’d realized how many fey were still so badly injured, then I would have done what I could. Many of the fey were warriors who had fiercely defended their village, and now their loved ones were being forced to watch them die, unable to protect them in return.

I felt sick with guilt and regret over it.

“Thank you, Ornella. Thank you ,” Ivie whispered after each fey was healed.

“How many more are dying?” I asked Ivie while we walked briskly between patients.

“There are a few,” she admitted with more tears in her eyes as she shook her head.

Fuck ! I needed more magic! I hated being weakened. Hated that my magic was taking so long to refuel in the cold of the Autumn Court.

I hesitated with even more guilt when I realized that I would have had access to a lot more if I were initiated. Surely the others would have understood the necessity of giving me whatever boost they could to heal their people. Between all of them, especially Rian, there was probably enough magic for me to heal all of these fey.

I was nearing the point at which Sage would sense that I’d overdone it when I returned him, but I was kneeling over a dying child. Watching her writhe in agony on a cot. How was I supposed to walk away and let her die?

I need you to know that you are important. Your life is worth more than your magic. More than anything.

I couldn’t overdo it. It just was not an option if Sage was ever going to trust me to be a reliable partner.

But there was something else I could do.

“It is alright, Ornella, if you cannot—”

I held up a hand to silence Ivie, and I closed my eyes to focus on seeking that tether inside. That magnetic pull that first drew me toward my anam in the Tithriall like a star exploding and swallowing my world. That string of stars that had lit up between us while we fought together the first time. The pulse of familiar rhythm between us, like a shared heartbeat, and the heat upon my senses when he used his Light magic to make a tiny sun in his palm that was somehow more than just light.

Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

I looked for him inside me with a fury as the ache of these dying fey threatened to break my heart. It seemed to me that the times when I had felt Sage the keenest was during moments of high emotion, so I harnessed it.

I could suddenly almost feel the phantom touch on my cheek that I knew intrinsically to be his. I could almost feel the hot press of his lips and tongue on my throat.

There you are.

Initially, it felt like lifting my face up toward the sun, only it was my heart filling with its warmth, the sensation spreading gradually outward into all my limbs. And then that intangible presence seemed to solidify within me as if it had reached out to me too.

Concern that was not mine flooded me, and I realized that Sage could feel the frustration and anguish which I’d used to fuel our bond when I reached out to him.

“I’m okay,” I murmured aloud. I knew the fey with me would hear and assume I was talking to them, but I didn’t care just then. None of us needed Sage bursting into the yurt in a panic that I was hurt. “I just need more magic.”

I tried to focus on what I had seen and done so he could understand what I was asking of him.

I felt a ripple of sorrow wash over me like a wave and then another of gratefulness.

Take what you need, he offered.

The sensation of him opening the connection between us fully was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. He was used to sharing this kind of link, so he would have trained his mind to maintain some control of it. But I’d never had this kind of connection before, and it was overwhelming. Almost as if I had been extended. The distance between our locations came into such sharp focus that I could almost feel every step and every heartbeat between us. But at the same time, that great distance was rendered utterly meaningless as if he were right beside me kneeling over that poor child.

Two bodies with one soul, one half made of flame and the other earthen, a singular heartbeat thrumming louder in my ears, and just one breath in our lungs.

I knew it would not be like this when I bonded with the other riders. Nothing else would ever compare to this.

A flush of awareness that was wildly inappropriate to be feeling whilst I was kneeling at the bedside of a dying fey began to spread across my flesh. I forcefully tamped it down before it could be reflected in my expression or change my scent.

Sage had also shared his magic before, so when I was unsure how to take it, he was able to gently push some of his fire into me. And absolutely nothing could have ever prepared me for the hot rush of him suddenly searing through my veins. His inferno hit my ocean, and it felt like my body erupted into a geyser of hot steam that was at once painfully explosive and euphoric. Smoke wafted off my skin and began to pour out of his armour. I could hear Ivie calling my name, but I remained focused on figuring out how to reshape his fire magic into something that I could use to heal.

Sage was quiet and watchful as I worked on the child in front of me. The scent of our combined power was different than mine which usually smelled like rain and honeysuckle. Now that scent was combined with the arid smell of fire and cinnamon.

“Are you alright?” Ivie hissed once I had stepped back so the little girl’s family could see her. The healer was clearly worried that I had hurt myself using my magic too deeply again. She would have sensed the change in it.

“I’m alright. I was just channelling Sage,” I explained hastily and turned to lead her outside so we could get on to the next patient.

I stopped short when I saw Orlaith was waiting for us inside the beaded entrance of the yurt, her lips parted in awe as her wide eyes moved from the healed child to me. Like her sister, Ivie, she was wearing a headscarf to keep her hair from falling into her eyes, and she looked utterly exhausted from their endeavours to care for injured fey.

She was about to speak, undoubtedly to offer praise based on her expression, but her nostrils flared, and then her brows condensed. She could smell him. I was not sure if his scent was merely on my skin or in my scent after I’d used his magic, but she could smell him.

And it made me irrationally angry that she still knew his smell well enough to recognize it so quickly.

“Is everything alright?” Ivie asked her.

Orlaith blinked, reminded of herself, and then nodded.

“I heard you were here,” she explained, looking at me again with a nod. “I wondered if you would come to one of my patients. He is not doing well.”

“Lead the way,” I bid her, feeling refreshed enough to heal at least as many fey as I already had after Sage had refueled me. I noticed that he had gone quiet in my mind, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of Orlaith or if I had merely lost hold of the link once my mind had calmed.

Regardless, his magic remained, my body felt warm and flush with it, and I fully intended to use it wisely.

“I am going to continue my rounds. There is no use in both of us guiding her around,” Ivie pointed out once we stepped outside the yurt. And then she gave her sister a list of the most critically injured fey to heal first.

“Wait,” I called to Ivie, taking her hands and holding them tightly when she tried to rip them away from me.

“Do not waste a drop on me!” she protested.

“It is not wasted when you are their only hope once I have used up my magic. You need this,” I insisted.

Ivie was determined to reject my offer, but I was doing this for her. If she was going to continue to be a pillar of strength for her patients, then she needed this boost.

She seemed to know it deep down as well, so although it appeared to pain her to accept help, she nodded for me to heal her. I watched colour come back into her cheeks, and the purple wells beneath her eyes disappeared as she breathed in more deeply in relief.

“Thank you,” she said reluctantly, still looking guilty before she turned away.

I turned to find Orlaith waiting, looking appreciative of me for attending to her sister. Her expression changed, however, when I stopped in front of her.

“You too.”

“No—” she attempted to object, just like her sister.

“ Yes ,” I insisted in annoyance with their selflessness and seized her hands. She sighed but did not attempt to prevent me from giving her an energy boost that restored her the way it had for her sister. Making her even more stunningly beautiful than she was even when exhausted.

“Thank you,” she said, her gaze remaining lowered as I released her hands. It seemed like she was working up the courage to say something, but then she turned to lead me onward. We checked in briefly with some of her less critically injured patients as we went.

“You really channelled Sage without being initiated into the Wild Hunt?” she asked, having finally worked up the courage to bring it up.

His name on her lips made me irrationally jealous and defensive since she clearly still had feelings for my mate. Especially since he had admitted that he would probably always have feelings for her too. But I did not see any animosity in her expression, she was genuinely curious, so I nodded and was sure to keep my emotions out of my face and tone as we continued to walk quickly.

“He is my anam ,” I reminded her.

“Yes, but it is not something all anam do. There must be deep trust between them before they can share magic. At least, according to the stories,” she informed me.

I had not known that. I supposed my people must have gotten around that with the same instruments they used to harness the magic of females.

“I never got to thank you for saving me,” I recalled, changing the subject from my relationship with Sage.

“You need not thank me, Ornella,” she reassured me, the guilt in her face instantly arousing all my suspicions. “You have done more than enough for my people.”

We seemed to have reached her patient’s yurt into which she was about to duck, but I was not letting her off the hook so easily.

“Why did you walk away initially? Did you know that Ciaran would only let you go if he thought you actually wanted him to kill me?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew her dark secret.

Orlaith hesitated, and I saw a touch of colour kiss her cheeks as her brows condensed before she turned to face me directly again. Then her eyes fell rather significantly to where I knew she must be able to see my neck. I had no doubt that she had noticed the marks earlier, and she knew their meaning. She knew what they meant to Sage.

For the first time, I saw a sharpness in her expression.

“The truth?” she verified, and I nodded immediately because I craved a reason to hate this female. She was so beautiful, Sage still cared about her immensely, and she seemed kind and gentle and beloved. She was everything I was not and could never be, and I worried Sage might come to realize that at some point and regret her.

“I reacted impulsively when I heard you marked him,” Orlaith admitted unflinchingly. “I was angry and jealous, but not for the same reasons as Ciaran who thought that he was protecting Sage. I already knew Sage cared about you, and regardless of the circumstances of how you had marked him, I knew he was at peace with it. For context, he was mine for the better part of a century and still he refused to allow me to mark him,” she said significantly. “But if I had done to him what you did and forced that mark regardless, he still would have gone away from me. Except that I would have never seen him again. So as I was walking away from you, I realized that I would never forgive myself. Sage would never forgive me.”

“So it was for him,” I acknowledged.

“Yes,” she admitted with resolute honesty. “You asked for the truth,” she reminded me with another shrug.

“I did,” I agreed.

“Since then, since you saved this village, I have many more reasons to be thankful that I did not walk away,” Orlaith added assuringly. “But Sage deserves everything good in this life, so as long as you are that for him, then I could never really hate you.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, and she inclined her head before turning to part the beaded entrance and go inside.

Leaving me feeling annoyed that rather than give me a good reason to dislike her, Orlaith had gone and earned even more of my grudging respect instead.