Page 30 of Blood Bond

Something inside me stirs, a deep urge to go to him, to hold him. In this moment, I see two worlds intertwined – the present, harsh and painful, and the echoes of a life that isn't mine, a past that seems to connect me to Seth in ways I can't fully understand yet.

“Bene sum, mea cara,” he says.

My reply comes automatically, and I don’t know where from. “Semper bene me habeo cum tecum sum.”

ChapterTwenty-Two

We're in a spacious kitchen just off the main hall through which we entered. I sit in a chair in this room, a perfect blend of old world charm and modern elegance. It's as if Seth has merged different eras into one space. The walls are lined with rich, dark wooden panelling, giving the room a cosy atmosphere. Thick, heavy velvet curtains hide large arched windows, allowing only the dim light from wrought iron chandeliers, suspended from the high ceiling, to illuminate the space.

The centre of the room is dominated by an old-world, warm wooden table, evidently having witnessed countless gatherings over the years, adding character to the space. Surrounding the table is a mix of chairs – some intricately carved in an old-fashioned style, while others boast sleek, modern designs.

All eyes are fixed on Seth, mine included. The room is silent, charged with tension, until Elena finally breaks the silence. She moves to face Seth, her concern evident. “What on earth were you thinking?” she chides gently, cradling his face as if he were a child. She tilts his head to inspect the injuries. I wince at the sight of his blistered, raw wounds – injuries he sustained helping me, chasing after me. My fault.

“It doesn't matter,” Seth says, trying to dismiss the concern.

“Like hell it doesn't matter,” Elena scolds, shaking her head. Seth starts to rise, but Elena firmly pushes him back into his seat. “Stay there. You should be resting. You're no use to us in this condition. Without you, we have nothing.”

Seth shakes his head. “You know what needs to be done.”

“Aye, I do. And that's to mend the mess you've made of yourself,” Elena asserts, taking charge. She attends to him with the care of a mother, her actions speaking louder than words. Her nurturing presence in the room brings a sense of order to the chaos, a reminder that even in this world of supernatural beings, human care and concern remain a powerful force.

My head still spins and I can't shake the memory of what just transpired I uttered, words that flowed effortlessly from my lips, though their meaning eludes me. I know them, though. I whisper them to myself once more, "Semper bene me habeo cum tecum sum." It's as if I can almost grasp the memories, but they remain just beyond my reach.

No one pays me any attention, except for Seth. His eyes lock onto mine with piercing intensity, and I see weariness and a hint of exhaustion he tries to mask. Then, shifting his focus back to Elena, he asks, “Have you spoken to Lucius?”

“I did. Donovan ...” Elena replies, her voice steady. She's at the stove now, her movements both deliberate and focused. She stirs a large pot, simmering with a concoction so aromatic it fills the room. Then, she turns to a smaller pot, adding various herbs and mysterious ingredients. Each addition seems purposeful, and the air around her thrums with energy, an unspoken power emanating from her very being.

The scents mingle in the air, both comforting and exotic, creating a sense of anticipation. I'm struck by a realisation: Elena isn't human, at least not in the way Theo, Tasha, or I am. There's something different about her, but she isn't a vampire either. My thoughts drift to the grimoire Seth mentioned, the book passed down to witches. Could Elena be a witch?

Elena murmurs something under her breath in a language unfamiliar to me. The air in the kitchen shifts, becoming warmer, almost electric. The small pot bubbles, and she observes its contents carefully, her eyes reflecting the flickering stove light. “Theo, get something for them to eat while I tend to Seth,” she instructs.

Seth closes his eyes, leaning his head back as if familiar with Elena’s methods.

“What's your plan?” she asks him.

“To rest first. Everyone is exhausted,” he responds, a hint of weariness in his voice.

“Including you?”

A wry smile crosses his lips. “Aye, including me.” He opens his eyes as Elena gently applies a piece of cloth to his face, covering the areas where his hair is missing. He flinches slightly at the touch, indicating pain, but remains silent. She continues to apply the soothing cloth to his skin, stopping only when he speaks again. “My brother has the book.”

Elena’s gaze remains fixed on Seth, her unusual eyes searching his face.

Seth shakes his head, dispelling some unspoken thought. “Not the ring,” he clarifies.

“So, he can’t read it?”

“Not yet, but as you saw, he has managed to open its pages.”

Elena’s gaze shifts to me, and I can’t help but be drawn to her eyes – not any ordinary colour, but a rich shade of purple. A cold sensation washes over me, as if the power in the room is reaching out, seeking me.

I pull my gaze away, feeling like I’m on the edge of a deep, dark pit, about to fall in.

Theo places a steaming bowl on the table in front of me, accompanied by a spoon and a hunk of bread. “Eat,” he instructs gently and I am glad of the break. “It’ll do you good.”

Around the room, the others are already eating. Naneve leans against the kitchen sink, her bowl in one hand as she shovels soup into her mouth. Tasha sits at the table, gracefully spooning mouthfuls of soup.

Killian is beside her, dunking his bread into the soup with an urgency, as if afraid the food might be snatched away.

---