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Divine Blood

Page 25

by Beck Michaels


  The realization of what he had done weighed on his shoulders with the weight of the world. He had only meant to give her his blood, but in his panic, he exchanged blood with her instead. And Cassiel knew one thing with a terrifying certainty that shook him to his soul.

  He had Blood Bonded with Dynalya Astron.

  Chapter 28

  Cassiel

  Cassiel had studied many subjects during his lessons, but the governess of the castle completely disregarded the topic of Blood Bonding. “You will not find anyone willing to bond with you, Your Highness. Therefore, it is pointless to discuss the subject.” He hadn’t argued because he agreed.

  No one wanted a Nephilim for a life-mate.

  Cassiel snatched back his shaking hands and drenched them in icy water from a waterskin. The deep lacerations tingled as they knitted closed. He stared in dismay at his unblemished palms. There was no washing Dyna’s blood out of his system.

  The brisk wind blowing through the rustling trees chilled the sweat on his back, and a shiver passed through him as a howl echoed in the distance. He looked up at the moon among the glimmering stars.

  “Elyōn … what have I done?” the whispered words shook on his lips.

  He had been a child the last time he spoke to the God of Life. To expect any guidance was trivial, for it never came when he needed it. Perhaps, he wasn’t worthy of receiving any. He was a mistake. A thing that was not meant to exist.

  He closed his eyes, using all his will to wish he could wipe away the last hour. But an undeniable mesmeric force hummed between him and Dyna. Shame bore down on him like a judgment from the Heavens.

  Celestials only reserved the Blood Bond for those who’d found their life-mate. For the act of exchanging blood intertwined their lives forever. It could never be undone. Not until he passed through Death’s Gate, which wouldn’t be for many centuries, long after she passed. He dropped his head in his hands, groaning as he pulled at his hair.

  On the impulse to save her life, he had unintentionally married her. Was that all it took to gain a wife?

  He thought the bonding act was complex and required something more meaningful. But he had not attended Celestial weddings before, so he’d never seen the bonding performed. Nor had he cared to learn. From what little he heard of it, there were oaths said during the ceremony, then some corporeal and psychological changes followed as the bond was established. He couldn’t recall the details in his jumbled thoughts. But there was one thing he knew. Blood Bonds didn’t forge any feelings of affection.

  Dyna would resent him for this.

  Cassiel looked down at his new bound wife and winced at the sight of her naked body prickled with cold. He moved to cover her with a blanket, but he noticed her injuries had not healed. Did his blood not work?

  Her breathing was steady, and the deep lacerations no longer bled. He took her wrist and felt her strong pulse. His blood must have worked. Well, this was the first he’d ever healed someone. He wasn’t sure what to expect. His healing was instant, but perhaps his impure blood took longer to heal others.

  By the moonlight, he noticed something else. Rows of old jagged scars coursed from Dyna’s collarbone to her chest. Claw marks. This had happened to her before. From the depth and width of the scars, the attack had been life-threatening, yet she survived.

  Cassiel sighed and covered her. “You’ll live this time too. I suppose that’s all that matters.”

  After setting a pot of water to warm over the fire, he ripped his ruined tunic in large strips. He removed the rest of Dyna’s torn clothing, careful to avert his eyes when possible. He left the petticoat, as the only damage was a slash in the bloodied skirt.

  Gently, Cassiel washed her with the heated water. The metallic scent of blood was so strong he almost tasted it. He bandaged her thigh, waist, and shoulder with pieces of his tunic.

  Whenever he brushed her skin, a tingle moved up his arm in response. The line of energy felt similar to Soul Searching, but this was ten times more substantial. It had to be part of their … new connection.

  Cassiel tucked the blanket around Dyna once more. Crusted blood caked her tresses and brows, speckling her lips. He cleaned her face, then worked on washing her hair, running the soft strands between his fingers.

  Of all the most ridiculous mistakes, he bound himself to a human. Cassiel straightened at the reminder.

  Dyna was human.

  She didn’t have to abide by Celestial customs. She had not consented to marry him so their marriage was invalid. But annulments never occurred among the Celestials. Blood Bonds were sacred. Perpetual. If his father learned about this, he might compel her to honor it.

  Then he must never know. No one must know.

  Cassiel cursed and kneaded his temples. It would be impossible to hide this for long. He’d be forced to confess if his father attempted to wed him to another. Once bonded he could never exchange his blood with anyone else. Doing so was adultery. That infidelity would not only defile a Blood Bond, but it would also bring self-suffering and spurning.

  Even if that didn’t happen, Dyna would feel the change between them. While she would not understand it at first, he would have to explain what it was eventually. Angst stirred in him. He didn’t want to see her disgust when she learned she was tied to him.

  No.

  He would not let anyone obligate her to honor the bond.

  Not to him.

  Cassiel refused to let her live the life his mother had. If they forced Dyna to stay in Hilos, the hatred of his people would break her. Imagining it made his fists clench. If he could protect her from anything at all, it would always be from that.

  Perplexed with himself, he studied the soft curves of Dyna’s face. The fire’s glow highlighted her silken mouth and nose. He lightly brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his fingers tingling.

  What was it about this human that gave him the insane need to keep her safe?

  Perhaps it was because she was trying so hard to do what she could on her own, and he wanted to help where she fell woefully short. Or because as silly as she was, he found her incredibly brave to venture out into the world to fight a demon.

  Dyna whimpered in her sleep. She murmured indiscernible words, growing more agitated as teardrops formed in the corner of her eyes. Cassiel touched his chest at the trickle of fear weaving through him. It wasn’t his fear—it was hers.

  Filtering through the bond between them.

  As her whimpers grew, so did the panic he felt from her until it grew frantic. Cassiel reached out to wake her but hesitated to touch her battered body. He found a spot on her ankle and wrapped his fingers around its delicate circumference. The bond vibrated with warm energy, fading the fright that had twisted through him.

  Dyna’s cries quieted. She woke and blinked sleepily at the night sky. He removed his hand, and she noticed him.

  “Cassiel?” She moaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “What happened? Where is Zev?” She sat upright, causing the blanket to drop and expose her.

  He snapped his face away.

  Dyna screeched, rushing to cover herself. “Where are my clothes?”

  “I had to remove your dress to mend your wounds,” Cassiel said, forcing his voice to remain even. He motioned at the pile of bloody rags near him. “That’s what’s left of it, and I found no change of clothing for you.”

  “Oh … I lost my clothing in Hilos.”

  Cassiel sighed, lacking the energy to be annoyed. He was busy trying to get the image of her breasts out of his head.

  “Did you rip your tunic for me?”

  She must have noticed the color of her bandages, and that he was bare-chested as well.

  “Garments are replaceable, you are not.” Cassiel cringed for saying such a thing. What was wrong with him?

  There was another short pause followed by the sound of Dyna shifting around a bit. “I’m covered. You may turn around now.”

  He didn’t dare. It was fortunate the dark hid his hot
face because he was sure it had turned red. His wings twitched at her stare digging into his back.

  “You have saved my life once again. I’ll forever be within your debt.”

  He groaned. Instead of being upset with him, she was grateful. That only made him feel more ashamed. “Enough with that nonsense. This is the last we speak of debts.”

  “Thank you, Cassiel. You’re a good person.”

  The flush seeped down his neck. “I’m not.”

  “You are.”

  “I am not.” He motioned sharply through the air to end the debate.

  “What happened to your hand?” she asked.

  Cassiel glanced down at his palms. There was leftover blood that had dried down his wrist and arms.

  “Are you wounded? I’ll tend to it.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Cassiel tugged out a clean tunic from his pack and slipped it on. He wrapped his wings around himself, wanting to disappear from her sight. They sat like that for a moment, with his back to her and the crackling fire. Their shadows swayed together in the tall grass.

  He wanted to ask how Dyna was feeling. She didn’t seem to be in any pain. Had she healed yet?

  A howl rang over the treetops.

  “The beast has been doing that for a while,” he said.

  “Zev is not a beast. He will be himself in the morning.”

  Cassiel glowered at her shadow. “I should never have given you my knife, Dyna.” He turned around. She glowered at him from the mound of blankets wrapped around her up to her neck. He lifted the rags of her bloody kirtle. “Zev almost tore you apart. If he is not a beast, why is he chained like one?”

  Dyna looked away, her eyes welling. “Because I promised Zev that I would chain him. If I didn’t, he would have ended his life.”

  Cassiel’s growing irritation deflated with the whoosh of breath that left him. There was nothing to say to that. He tossed the rags in the fire, and they watched the flames devour them.

  “Zev’s father was a good man,” Dyna said softly. “He was my father’s brother. Both were prominent Herb Masters, but the village was too small so Uncle Belzev traveled for work in nearby towns. One day, he announced that he had wed, and he moved away to live with his bride. My father never met her and my uncle never spoke of her. Years later he returned to North Star with a baby in his arms. Only then did he tell my father he’d been living in Lykos Peak with a werewolf who’d taken him for a mate. But he had to leave because she rejected their child. She didn’t want a half-breed pup.”

  Cassiel’s chest tightened. Another howl resonated in the distance with all the lament he felt in her story.

  “My father took them in and Zev grew up into a sweet boy. He was three autumns old when I was born. He has always watched over me as an older brother would. As a child, I didn’t realize that Zev was special. I thought his ability to shapeshift into a wolf was normal. I hadn’t noticed he only shifted in front of our family. When a villager witnessed him change, fear spread. The council banished Zev from ever returning to North Star. He didn’t understand why the villagers called him a beast and threw stones at him. He was only a little boy. It broke his heart to be unwanted.”

  The slurs Malakel spat at Cassiel during their childhood rang in his ears. “Dirty half-breed. You’re a cursed Nephilim. Abomination.”

  Dyna curled over her knees, resting her chin on her arms as she gazed at the campfire. “They returned to Lykos Peak so Zev could be with his kind. We held reunions in a meadow outside of the village for years until the Shadow killed my family. Belzev no longer came, but Zev and I continued to meet. As he aged, he became more disheartened. The Pack saw him as abnormal, so they shunned him, and his mother couldn’t love him. Despite Zev’s breed, I think she resented him because Belzev had chosen him over her.”

  The brunt of resentment and jealousy was all too familiar. It drove Queen Mirah mad when Cassiel’s father chose his mother. His childhood was laden with her hatred. “You are nothing.”

  “Matters became more difficult when Zev reached maturity at thirteen.” Dyna’s soft voice dropped to a whisper. “The day he had his first full moon shift, the Other appeared.”

  Cassiel suppressed a shudder. “What is it?”

  “It’s his second form; a manifestation that comes from being half human and half wolf. Powerful and aggressive. Werewolves don’t rear pups born of mixed blood because they fear it.”

  “The change looked painful,” Cassiel said, remembering how Zev floundered as another force bent and stretched him like dough.

  “It is. When he shifts into a wolf, it hurts but it’s quick and his mass stays the same. But when he shifts into the Other, the bones in his body break and force him to enlarge into a new form.”

  “Where did he get the chains?”

  Dyna rubbed the old scars on her collarbone, staring blankly past him. “His father had them made after …”

  “He attacked you.”

  “He didn’t mean to. He wasn’t in his right mind.”

  “Do not dismiss it. Those wounds had been enough to kill you.”

  “Belzev treated me with Essence Healing.”

  Cassiel frowned, but he didn’t argue on the matter of her family’s use of magic. Something significant had to have saved her from such grave wounds. “And the Pack turned a blind eye to it?”

  “The Alpha was forced to allow them to live in Lykos Peak because Belzev had saved the Pack from an epidemic. They were indebted.”

  Cassiel shook his head. “But how did your uncle live in werewolf territory? The full moon forces all werewolves to relinquish control to their wolves. Their first instinct would be to hunt.”

  A sad smile tugged on a corner of Dyna’s lips. “Belzev built their home on the outskirts of Lykos Peak near a cluster of ash trees. They hate the scent. He planted wolfsbane around the house for good measure, which is toxic to them. The Pack never hunted him, but I suspect fear of the Other kept them at bay.”

  “The chains are enough to hold him?”

  “Silver is the bane of werewolves. Belzev used the chains to contain the Other during the full moon, and he created a diluted elixir out of wolfsbane to help subdue it. The elixir made Zev ill, but his father said he would no longer need it once he learned to control the Other. With training, he did eventually learn to delay the change from coming nearly all night. He always reverted to the Other, but it solidified Belzev’s belief that his son could control it.” Dyna paused and pointed her face up at the sky twinkling with a sheet of stars.

  Cassiel inhaled a shallow breath at the depth of sorrow that washed through him. “But he didn’t.”

  Tears rolled down Dyna’s cheeks, gathering at the end of her chin. Her voice wobbled as she spoke, “One autumn night, on Zev’s eighteenth day of his birth Belzev decided he was ready to be unchained. Zev woke the next morning to find his home covered in blood, and his father torn apart. Can you imagine how he must have felt to realize he had killed him with his own hands?”

  Cassiel couldn’t answer.

  He envisioned the carnage with Zev kneeling in the middle of it, lost and broken at seeing what he had done. All of that horror and pain placed a weight on Cassiel’s chest.

  “His mother wanted him dead,” Dyna said. “The Alpha banished him instead. But Zev didn’t want to live anymore. He wandered into the forest to die. I found him days later in the meadow, delirious from starvation and deranged from the Madness. I promised Zev that I would chain him myself. I had to, so he would live. Three years have passed, and I have chained him ever since.” At the end of her story, she laid her head in her arms. Her shoulders shook as she soundlessly wept.

  Anguish and grief stirred inside of Cassiel. He wasn’t sure how much of it was his or if it was all hers coming through the bond. The grief was heavy, distressing, and it engulfed him in a way that left him disoriented. He wanted to take that feeling away from her if only to stop it from affecting him.

  Now he understood why Zev
was on the verge of falling into the Madness.

  Guilt had broken him, but he smiled and laughed for Dyna’s sake. He played that role for her. His deep-rooted instinct to protect family was the only thing keeping him alive.

  Not once had Cassiel stopped to consider the people he traveled with. Zev’s childhood in Lykos wasn’t much different from his in Hilos. They both received scorn and repugnance for being half-breeds. He realized with horror that he had treated Zev the same way. He wasn’t any better than Malakel. Self-disgust twisted his stomach.

  But this method of restraining the Other form was too dangerous. She had to stop.

  “The best thing is to let him go,” Cassiel said. “You cannot be responsible for his chains any longer.”

  Dyna wiped her face with one end of the blanket. “I must. I made a promise. I’m the only one he can count on or he’ll become feral.”

  Tension pulsed in Cassiel’s temples. “Chaining him will eventually get you killed. You nearly died today. Again. Why must you constantly risk your life?”

  “For my family.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “What?”

  “Some people value wealth, land, and prosperity. I value my family. They are all I have, and one thing I’ve learned is that family is something we must hold on to.”

  That made little sense to him for he had nothing of the sort with his own. The entire concept was foreign. All he had from them was disillusionment.

  Cassiel scowled at the fire. “Family hurts you far worse than anyone else ever would. Relying on others, expecting anything of them, only leads to disappointment.”

  “Even so. There is nothing on earth or in the Heavens that would keep me from helping those that I love.”

 

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