Light of the Heavens

XXII. Aftermath

For all her training, or perhaps because of it, there was nothing in the world more frightening than Lysaerys's anger, Lysaerys's jealousy. It burned like fire in her veins as the dark magic around her heart thrashed and clawed like a thing alive, shredding her soul with pain. "You are mine, Vassa," that voice breathed against her ear, every syllable as much as a trap as the body pinning her to the wall. "Always mine. Forever mine. Only mine."

That touch would erase even the thought of any other's.

It hurt so badly that all she wanted was for it to end, whatever that meant. Submission was the only escape, but there was still something in her that wanted to fight desperately for survival even as she drowned in Lysaerys's fury, tortured by the fingers digging into her flesh and bringing with them the crackling touch of power that threatened to char her from the inside out. "It was nothing! Please, please stop...I can't..." Her body couldn't bear the wrath coming.

"You will do whatever I wish, whenever I wish it," that voice whispered, low and smoky. She could hear the smile in Lysaerys's voice at the plea, feel it scorching against her skin. "Don't you love me?"

She closed her eyes tightly. Sometimes it was better just to try not to feel, to try and lock her heart away from everything happening, to forget. Not that Lysaerys ever allowed it, displeasure felt as a stabbing pain split her side—

Vassa opened her eyes with a hiss of breath, covering her aching ribs with one hand. It took her a moment to orient herself, but the pain was a blessed sign that she was still alive. Her hood and mask remained undisturbed, but she could feel sheets against her torso where it wasn't covered in bandages. She felt feverish and her limbs quivered as she tried to sit up, sending bolts of agony through her chest.

"Stay down, Vassa," Adéla said, putting a hand on Vassa's shoulder on her good side and pressing down. "We cannot afford to have you open your own wounds again. They were problematic enough to tend."

The masked woman's mouth was so dry she could barely speak, but she was not about to remove her mask and ask for water. She turned her head and saw darkness outside the window, a sudden stab of concern disrupting her peace of mind even more. "How long has it been?" she rasped.

"It's almost midnight, so hours," the blood mage said, leaning back in her seat and brushing her brown hair back out of her face. "You crippled the creature that attacked you enough that he has not returned, at least."

Vassa tried to ignore the sickness in her stomach, to tell herself it was the pain and whatever cures they had applied to her to heal her so well. She felt every breath as a torture, but she was breathing normally. Even with that attempted self-deluding, though, she knew the truth: Sethon's words had empowered her customary nightmares. She could still feel the punishment in the dream's touch, but that poisonous longing reared its ugly head too.

She would never understand how she could love, fear, and hate Lysaerys all at the same time with such violent intensity. Distance had done nothing to sever that emotional tie and time was not likely to either. The passage of minutes, hours, days, years...it did not carry the same meaning for Vassa as it did for others.

"I have to go," Vassa said hoarsely. "I have been away too long."

"You are in no condition to defend even yourself, let alone protect Seben," Adéla said with a fierce frown. She went to grab Vassa again to hold her down, standing up from her seat to do so.

For a split second, Adéla's features were replaced by Lysaerys's visage and the firm but relatively gentle hold that trapped Vassa felt anything but. "Stop." The word leaped out of Vassa's lips, broken and terrified. Her next blink cleared her vision, and she saw Adéla looking down at her with concern even as the mage released her.