Page 65 of Captive
"Open the gates," Boarstaff's voice was rough, barely controlled.
"Boarstaff—" Thornmaker began.
"Open the gates."
The gates swung wider. Warriors emerged, weapons ready. Sebastian tried to stand, failed, settled for staying upright on his knees. He wouldn't collapse. Not yet. Not until he'd seen this through.
Boarstaff walked toward him slowly, each step measured. When he reached the body, he knelt, his hand hovering over the warrior's face before finally touching it with infinite gentleness.
"How did you find him?" Boarstaff's voice was thick with barely restrained emotion.
"They displayed him at the border." Sebastian's words came out broken by labored breathing. "A message I've seen... made too many times before." He swayed but caught himself. "I couldn't leave him like that."
Boarstaff's hand remained on the warrior's face for a long moment. When he looked up at Sebastian, something had shifted, grief mixed with gratitude, suspicion tempered by recognition of what this gesture cost.
"Can you stand?" Boarstaff asked.
"I can try."
Sebastian pushed himself upright, legs shaking. The world spun but he locked his knees, refusing to fall. Warriors moved closer, hands on weapons but hesitant. They'd seen him carry one of their own home. That had to count for something.
"Come," Boarstaff said, standing. "We'll take him to the Heart Tree. You..." He studied Sebastian's wounds, the blood still seeping from his chest. "You need to witness this properly. Not bleeding out at our gates."
It wasn't acceptance. Not quite. But it was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Boarstaff's hand on his arm was the only thing keeping Sebastian upright as they passed through the settlement gates. Warriors flanked them on both sides, weapons ready but not quite raised. Others carried the warrior's body with solemn care, forming a procession toward the Heart Tree.
Sebastian's legs moved on instinct more than conscious control. Each step sent fresh pain lancing through wounds that refused to close. The poison from Zarek's blade had spread so far now that his vision kept blurring, reality tilting sideways before righting itself.
"Almost there," Boarstaff said quietly, his grip tightening as Sebastian stumbled.
The Heart Tree rose before them, massive and ancient. Its roots spread across the settlement's center like veins, and the air around it hummed with power that made Sebastian's remaining brass sing in response. The tree recognized him, he realized. Acknowledged what he'd become in its chambers.
Warriors were already gathering, their expressions ranging from hostility to cautious curiosity. Children peered around adults' legs, wide-eyed at the vampire who'd entered carrying one of their fallen.
Boarstaff guided Sebastian to a large root that curved up from the ground like a natural bench. "Sit," he said. It wasn't quite an order, not quite a request.
Sebastian sank onto the root gratefully, his back against the tree's massive trunk. The bark was warm beneath his shoulders, almost alive in a way the citadel's processed materials never were. Power pulsed through it, not mechanical, not regulated, just... present.
"Stay here," Boarstaff continued. "Witness what comes next. But..." His eyes moved to Sebastian's wounds, to the blood still seepingfrom his chest. "Don't move. You've done enough."
Sebastian nodded, not trusting his voice. Exhaustion pulled at him, but he forced himself to remain alert. He'd carried the warrior this far. He'd see this through.
Warriors laid the body at the tree's base with reverent care. Shamans emerged from surrounding dwellings, carrying ceremonial items, herbs, crystals, carved implements that resonated with the same power as the tree itself. They began to sing, their voices weaving patterns that made nearby crystals glow and hum in response.
Movement caught Sebastian's attention. The child—the one they'd rescued—broke away from where she'd been standing with an orc woman. She ran toward him, wooden doll clutched in one small hand, her face lighting up with recognition.
"Stop!" Sebastian called sharply, louder than he'd intended.
The word cut through the gathering like a blade. Every eye turned toward him. The child froze mid-step, confusion replacing her smile.
Sebastian forced himself to stay seated despite every instinct screaming to back away. "You need to stay back," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. Heat surged through him—not from his wounds but from her presence. The sweet scent of untainted blood, young and pure, triggered something primal that his damaged regulators could barely contain.
His fangs descended before he could stop them. Sebastian turned his face away, one hand rising in warning. "I'm still what I am," he managed through clenched teeth. "Still dangerous."
Boarstaff moved between them with fluid speed. "He's right, Sarah. Some distances should be maintained, even between allies."
