Chapter 3 - the Confession

I woke up in the strangest position I had ever been in. I found myself wedged between two bodies — two large, warm bodies. I jolted upright, shaking both males awake in the process. I felt better — my mind was clear, my fever had lifted, and my joints had stopped aching. I still felt weak, but — better. I was hungry too.

Warrian took my face in both his hands, inspecting it. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Good,” I replied, “hungry.”

“I’ll get you something to eat,” Thoridor said, pushing himself upright. My hand shot out involuntarily, wrapping around his bicep. Fear clawed at my heart — fear of him leaving again. Fear of feeling like I had before — pure agony. I glanced down, and retracted my hand, my cheeks darkening with shame and betrayal.

Warrian beheld us, and then sighed. “You stay,” he growled, “I’ll go.”

“No!” I protested, but Warrian waved his hand dismissively. “It’s okay,” he said, “you need to get your strength back first. It will get easier over time— it will go back to the way it was before.”

I swallowed and glanced at Thoridor. He looked much better than he had before. The color had returned to his face, and the bags under his eyes had disappeared. He stared back, and I could tell he was looking for something to say.

“Don’t,” I said, “like I said, this doesn’t change anything.”

Thoridor clenched his jaw and nodded. “I know,” he said, “I’m just glad it’s over.”

I huffed. “Don’t get too comfortable,” I said, “as soon as I have my strength back, I’m trying again. I know what to expect now — I’ll prepare myself. You should too.”

The pain in Thoridor’s expression was enough to make me question everything I had said, but I straightened my back and looked away.

“I understand,” he finally said, “I’ll go farther next time, lock myself in a dungeon somewhere. There is just one more thing I need you to know.”

I wanted to plug my ears — knowing whatever it was he was about to confess, it would likely not be good. But I realized this was him coming clean — at the very least he was making an attempt to redeem himself.

“Out with it,” I said, lying back down.

“I made your brother forget,” Thoridor said. His words were daggers — white-hot daggers, straight through my heart. “It was just temporary — to help you keep your promise. I was meant to restore his memories before you returned home, but I couldn’t. For some reason, I couldn’t find him anymore.”

I closed my eyes, trying to ease the stinging of tears. “What promise?” I mustered.

“You told him you’d be back before they’d miss you,” Thoridor said softly. I opened my eyes to look at him, and found him staring back at me.

“I have caused you nothing but pain,” he said lowly, “it was never my intention to. I should never have made you come here.”

“Yes, well,” I said, looking away from his hurt-ridden eyes, “too late now. I will live out the rest of my days here, until one day, my human body will have been used up, and I will perish here. Warrian will lose interest as soon as I age —if I even survive that long— and I will die all alone.”

“No you won’t!” echoed back at me, spoken by two voices in unison.

I scoffed. “Fine,” I said, “I will die an old lady, with two handsome young suitors by my side.”

A smile played around the corners of Warrian’s lips. “That would be quite the sight.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

Warrian handed us each both a bowl of stew.

“Thank you, War,” Thoridor rasped, “I know you must hate this just as much as Serin does.”

Warrian looked at him for a long moment, and then sat down on the stool by the bed. “It’s not ideal,” he admitted, “but I can wait until she’s strong enough to break the bond. I’ll be here.” He stared into Thoridor’s dark eyes as he spoke those last words, almost as if to challenge him.

Thoridor’s face remained unchanged. “I commend you for that,” Thoridor growled, and I very much doubted he’d meant what he had said, “but aren’t you just a tiny bit curious about, you know, your own mate?”

Warrian shook his head, leaning closer to me. “I don’t have one,” he said, “so I’ll do this the human way. I pick who I will mate with, if she’ll have me.”

Thoridor adjusted his leg, so his thigh was pressed against mine. And even with all the fabric in between us —his leather pants, my linen chemise and the woolen blanket— I still felt the light tingling in my skin. And for a second I wondered what if would feel like without— NO.

“I do too,” Thoridor said, and I whipped my head around to look at him. And then at Warrian. Neither of them had moved — it was as though Thoridor hadn’t spoken at all.

I took a bite of my stew. “Stay out of my head,” I mumbled mentally, and dropped my spoon in shock as Thoridor’s voice popped into my thoughts again. “Then stop thinking so loud.”

Warrian, obviously oblivious to our mental exchange looked up in concern. “Too hot?” he asked, and I forced myself to keep from blushing.

“No, it’s great,” I assured him, and slid my hand into his. “Thank you, War.”

I felt Thoridor’s disdain in my mind, and mentally stuck out my tongue to him. Thoridor put the bowl to his lips, and drank the contents in three large sips.

“Animal,” I scoffed mentally, and Thoridor just grinned in response.

“I need a bath,” he said, and got up. “Serin, if you’ll please join me?” I couldn’t keep myself from blushing this time — and quickly looked away.

“No thanks,” I mumbled, “I’d rather be ripped apart mentally again.” “Suit yourself,” Thoridor mumbled, and left the room. And immediately, my world caved in on itself again.