Alessia Stocklin and Ezra Withers are polar opposites, but they can certainly agree on one thing: their mutual hate for each other.
He's an Alpha deadset on killing every rogue he comes across, while she's a vigilante - known as Nightshade - intent...
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"How are you feeling?" Ezra asked after we climbed down from the treetops, saying a final goodbye to the Beltaire Bandits for the time being. Ezra and Elias still had to work out the finer details about what the pact between the two brothers would entail.
Not only were Ezra and Elias joining forces but so were Solaris and the Beltaire Bandits. It would require a finer tooth comb to work out all the kinks of such an alliance. At least it would if there were to be no ruffled feathers on either side.
Elias also mentioned he would need a few days to get the Bandits on his side as well as locate the coven of witches he frequently had under his thumb. He explained they were not an ordinary coven of witches as they did not stay rooted in one spot for very long.
Without hesitation, I answered Ezra's question with, "I'm fine."
And, it was the truth even if I was a little bit too hasty in my answer and — maybe now that I think about it — I was a little too forceful in my delivery. I mean, fine was relative. Of course, I was not fine with my brother's whereabouts still being a mystery, but I knew that was not what Ezra was asking.
While I did cough up blood earlier, I attributed it to stress. Today, for all intents and purposes, was not a walk through the park. I had a feeling Elias had that effect on those around him. He was crafty, and even though I did not know him all that well, I could tell even those close to him probably had a hard time predicting his next move.
After Ezra left me momentarily to perform the blood promise with his brother, I did not succumb to any more symptoms that could be attributed to my brother's blood. And so, I told myself it had been the stress. Yet, I was left wondering: could stress really cause you to cough up blood?
Before Ezra could protest my state of being, I asked him a question instead. "How was it? How was the blood promise? Did he try to cut your carotid artery?"
Laughing, Ezra hung his head back. "He might have. I saw him eying the knife's blade suspiciously. But in the end, he just went for my hand."
Ezra held up the hand that was wrapped in light linen. By now, the cloth had been soaked by the outpouring of blood from Ezra's palm. As we walked back to Solaris, Ezra took the cloth off his hand, pocketing the fabric away. He flexed his fingers back and forth. The slash that had once resided on his hand was no more. He fully healed.
"That's not fair," I complained, my eyes still hovering over Ezra's hand even though it dropped down by his side.
"What?" Ezra's blue eyes were alight with wonder.
Resisting the guttural urge to roll my eyes, I took a more tactful approach. "Your healing — I mean, if I could heal that fast, I'm sure the arrow that plunged through my heart would have been nothing more than a splinter."
"You do heal fast," he said as he started to walk backward.
I guess my pace was too slow for Ezra; he had to walk backward, his face looking in my direction, in order to slow down his strides enough to match my slouched steps.
