𝙎𝙃𝘼𝘿𝙊𝙒𝙎 (𝙖𝙯𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙡 )

𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸

Chapter Five
Wounded Truth

When I was a girl, Lucien had once shouted so loud in my ear that it rang painfully. Of course, it was just his outraged reaction to Tamlin beating him in a game of chess, but his voice caused the floor to tremor beneath my feet.

The same painful ring was now in my ears and I felt my vision swim. A small part of me wanted to rush back into my bath chamber and splash my face with cool water to wake out of this cursed dream.

It wasn't the sound of Ione's frantic knocking on the door, or the heavy footsteps of armed sentries rushing through the hallways. No, it was a faint groan that snapped me out of my daze.

As crimson seeped into my ivory pillows, I rushed to Azriel's side and grit my teeth. "You dying was not a part of our deal," I hissed.

His once blue eyes flickered between hazel, as his siphons dimmed a deep navy blue. His breathing was steady, but strained as he watched me approach. He didn't dare say a word, causing me to assume it must have been far too painful.

My hands hovered above the arrows. So many I couldn't count, and didn't even know where to start. Ione's knocking only grew louder, but I grit my teeth and glared at Azriel.

A low feral sound of pain escaped his lips. As much as I wanted to release a string of curses at him, I forced myself to think. It looked like it hurt, but I prayed his injuries wouldn't have him bleed out.

Glancing between my closet and the pierced wings, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

🌓

"They cause such a fuss when these things happen," Ione sighed, walking into my room. All I could do was nod my head, trying to keep my eyes trained on her.

Even the slightest glance away could reveal the worst secret.

"For heavens sake, it was probably just a bird!" Ione continued, drawing the curtains open, "But Lord Tamlin is concerned that some Night Court hooligan decided to take a long trip to unnecessarily bother us."

She huffed out another long breath before moving to arrange my bed. I quickly caught her arm before Ione could remove the bed sheets and reveal a rather unnerving stain.

"Is everything alright, Primrose?" Ione asked, tilting her head.

"I was in the middle of bathing," I snapped, a bit too harshly, "Would you mind allowing me to resume?"

Ione flinched as she drew her arm away from the bedsheets. The relief was short lived when she made her way to my closet. "Resume then, but Tamlin ordered me to stay with you. I'll pick out an outfit for you once you're finished."

I threw myself in front of the closet door, and Ione stumbled back. My arms were pinning the door shut, and her eyes narrowed.

"Primrose, what on earth has gotten into you?"

Her eyes then widened as she stared at the ground. Following her gaze, I noticed a small pool of blood, leaking from my closet. The scarlet stained my slippers, and I barely had enough time before Ione yanked the door open.

I fell flat on my face, and when a huge impact knocked into me and a groan followed, I knew I had been caught.

Shoving Azriel off of me, I moved to prop him against my bed stand. Ione's face was as pale as snow, as her mouth moved but no words came out.

She looked between me and him, my worried look and his pained expression. Backing away slowly, she shook her head.

"Ione," I whispered hoarsely. Those wide eyes wouldn't dare look away from Azriel, as her hands shook on her sides.

"Ione," I said a bit more forcefully. I took her hands into my own, and stared into her eyes. Tearing her gaze away from Azriel, I gave her one final plea.

"I need your help."

🌓

The water splashed on the ground as the wooden bucket I hauled swayed in my unsteady hands. Ione was perched on my bed, carefully removing the arrowhead from each wound. Bundles of gauze were littered on the floor as vermilion rags stained the floor.

Her steady hands and concentration never faltered despite the sentries shouting in the halls. The lockdown on the manor was spreading, and I prayed Tamlin had for once let my safety slip his mind.

Applying the final bandage, Ione sucked in a breath and stepped back, examining her work. Neat white cloth dressed each of his wounds, and his once contorted and pained face was at rest.

Ione slipped out of the door without a word, not even bothering to glance at me. I understood, however. He was my problem now, and she couldn't risk any more than she had already done.

So I quickly got to work, twisting my fingers in the air. Gusts of wind were beckoned, holding the door tightly sealed. The small air shield bought me enough warning if anyone tried to get into my room, and I finally let my shoulders sag as I shrunk down on my wall.

"No...no," a voice groaned. I leaped up, running over to Azriel's side. His voice was awake, while he was not. He twisted and thrashed in the bed, and I tried not to panic at the thought of him bursting Ione's careful stitching. Shadows curled around his ears as they spread around him, threatening to attack.

I rested my hand on his face, and racked my mind for an idea. Before I knew if, a sweet melody rose in my throat as I hummed. Azriel clasped my free hand, but I didn't dare move. Slowly, the darkness swirling around him retreated, and his movements ceased. His seemingly limp hand cling to mine, and I kneeled down beside my bed.

Resting my head on his chest, I closed my eyes for a few moments, letting them rest. His heartbeat lulled me to sleep, and my heavy eyelids betrayed me.

The only thing that comforted me as I drifted off to sleep was that the last place in the Spring Court Tamlin would look for him was in his own house...right?

🌓

"Well look what we have here."

Flinching, I raised my hand and sent a flurry at whoever's voice it was. A soft laugh rang out, and unfamiliar one, as I blinked slowly.

Standing before me was a tall, handsome male. His tan skin mirrored Azriel's, but those violet eyes reminded me that whoever this was was still an intruder. He was handsome, in his black clad clothing and silver thread weaving patterns, yet I found myself not as flustered by his appearance as I thought.

"Stay back," I snarled, positioning myself between him and Azriel. I owed nothing to Azriel, but guilt creeped up inside of me if I failed to defend him.

Raising my hand in front of me, I squared my shoulders and raised one brow. A taunt of sorts, daring this man to come closer.

The man eyed me up and down, before rolling his eyes and tilting his head. A slightly amused expression was now masked on his face. "I'm here to help a friend. Do you mind?"

He paced over to Azriel, but before he could lay a hand I tackled the man to the ground. The man stumbled back and I raised my fist, ready to swing.

Sheer panic gripped me. My mind split in two as violet eyes peered into my memory. They tore through the cheerful ones, and dwelled on painful thoughts. Distant ones even I couldn't recognize.

A fiery crib. A pair of dark wings. A shadow on my ceiling. A russet eyeball rolling on the floor. A golden mask.

A scream wouldn't have been enough to express the horrific things that haunted me. Most of which I didn't even recognize.

By the time I woke up, not a trace of either of them had been left behind.

🌓