Page 35 of Blood Bond

"All I have to do is mention him to my mother, and that bastard brother of mine you like so much will be gone. We could fetch a good price for him, too. A man who looks like him, young and virile."

As soon as he’d said it, my insides had coiled in dread, knowing that he would follow through just to spite me. I'm aware he hasn't because he would have gloated if Seth were gone, but I need to be sure.

When there is no answer to my soft knock on the door, I push it open gently and whisper his name into the darkness. "Seth..."

The air inside is cold, damp, and clammy, with a foul odour that stings my nostrils. I spot a candle on the window ledge and quickly light it.

"Oh, no...."

Seth is lying on the floor in front of the fire, wrapped in a blanket. I rush over to him. My heart aches, fearing the worst as I kneel beside him. He blinks, licks his lips., "Katherine...."

"Shush, don't try to speak." I get up and hurry to the small jug, only to find it empty. I must fetch water from the stream, but I'm torn. Leaving him alone could be condemning him to death. But what choice do I have?

I rush outside, jug in hand, fill it, and rush back. I pour water into a glass and offer it to him, holding it to his lips so he can drink.

It causes him to cough and wince. He pulls the blanket more tightly around himself, huddling down. "S-so c-cold."

"You have a fever." I slowly pull the blanket down, revealing his back. It’s covered in numerous slices and slashes. I bite my lip to stifle a trembling gasp. "This is because of me."

He shakes his head slowly.

"Did Donovan have them do this?" I demand, though I don't need an answer. I'm all too aware of his brother's cruelty. My own scars and bruises bear witness to it. Seth does not reply, and I gently brush his damp hair back. "I'm going to light a fire and warm some water. Those wounds need cleaning."

"No," he protests weakly.

"Yes."

He reaches out to stop me … or maybe push me away; it's hard to tell. Regardless, I grasp his hand firmly, my heart and body quivering with fear. I lower my head close to his. "I can't lose you," I whisper shakily. He's the only light in my life, the only thing I have to hold onto, even if I never actually touch him. Just knowing he's there is enough.

"I am here for you, always," he reassures me in a whisper.

"Then let me be here for you. You have an infection. These wounds need to be cleaned."

"They will find you here?—"

"Then let them."

He tries to hold onto me, but I slip my hand away and go to the fireplace. It hasn't been lit in days, not even warm embers remain. The last time I saw Seth was when he sneaked me back into the main house, five days ago. That's how long there has been no fire, and the frost is creeping in, if only in the mornings for now. Soon, the grass will turn hard and frozen.

There are no berries left on the trees or bushes. We've preserved what we could into jams and pies, but there will be no more. The seasons are changing.

I start a new fire by clearing out the old ashes and debris. There's only a small pile of wood beside it, and Seth hasn't been able to chop more. Perhaps I can sneak some from the main house and bring it down later.

I use the bowl to boil the water over the fire, and it feels like it takes an eternity. Seth dozes in and out of consciousness, and I can't help but touch his face, pushing his hair back, letting my fingers linger on his skin. His complexion is unnaturally pale and ashen. Leaning closer to him, I murmur, "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," he whispers and coughs, reaching for me,.

I gasp as I wake, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like a heavy cloak, suffusing me with fear and guilt. Seth's name is on my lips, but the bed is empty beside me. Moonlight filters in through the windows, and there's no trace that he was ever here, except for the indentation where his body once lay. A sense of coldness envelops me in his absence, and a profound feeling of loss settles in, though it doesn't make sense.

I place my hand on my chest, feeling my heart thumping against my ribs. I have to swallow hard to fight off a creeping sense of panic.

"Seth?" I call out, but I'm not sure if I'm referring to the Seth from my dream or the one I know. In my mind, they merge into one, as if my body recognises them both, even though they shouldn't be connected.

I sit up abruptly, and that's when I spot him standing in the corner of the room, watching me with gentle eyes. The deep blue of his dress shirt accentuates the pallor of his skin, making it almost luminescent in the moonlight. His hands are tucked into his pockets, but I can still feel the memory of how tightly they held mine just a few hours ago.

"I'm still here," Seth says softly as he takes a step closer to me.

I'm at a loss for words, my mind filled with these inexplicable stories and places that I shouldn't know, considering I had never met him until he bought me at the auction. Yet, my mind conjures up these narratives and memories that don't make any sense. It's as if there's more to my connection with him than I can comprehend. “You have scars on your back,” I dare to say. “Your brother?—”

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