Chapter 19: Valen - Bound to Ruin

My head throbs, bile rising. My eyelids flutter as I struggle to open them. An echo in the distance calls to me. The pain explodes, and I gasp, eyes snapping open.

Lucas cups my face, his eyes tight like he is the injured one, not me. “Fuck, V. I was giving you one more minute before forcing you back home.”

The heel of my right hand presses into my brow. “What happened?”

“You passed out, but I was able to get the bolt bags out from under the register without losing any fingers. Fucking books are everywhere. I patched you up as best I could so you won’t bleed out.”

I glance down. My shirt is missing, and a combination of gauze and ribbons of cloth binds my left arm to my chest. I gingerly check his work before groaning, “Well done.” My head is a problem. A concussion at best. It’s hard to string two thoughts together, but I manage a pained, “Where are we now?”

“Basement. The wards were weakened enough that I was able to quickly crack them and pick the iron lock. I should’ve taken you back to the estate, but I would like to live to see the next day.”

I blink and, slowly, turn my head to the side, but Lucas gently uses his hand to block my view. He clears his throat and says roughly, “You should wait.”

But I can’t, especially not now. I’m badly injured, and someone painstakingly broke into the bookshop to steal something Astoria hid, something that Lucas didn’t even know was there. We’re not safe here, or anywhere, until I claim my inheritance and the Bauer wards are back to full strength. Stealing Astoria’s statue and working on breaking the curse while safely protected within my family home is sounding like a better and better idea by the second. But we’ll need to work fast.

“Help me sit up.” I mean it as a command, but it comes as a whispered plea.

Lucas’ face tightens, but he obeys. He’s careful with me, moving me up slowly, and I’m grateful because any faster and I’d pass out. My head swims, my vision blurring, and my throat works to keep the nausea at bay. I fist a hand in Lucas’ shirt as an anchor until I can see clearly again. He’s missing his jacket and shirtsleeves. I stare at his bare arms for too long before I blink down at my bandages, then at the jacket that was spread out for me to lie on. Emotion swells, and I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe slowly until it eases. I can’t break now, not when I’m so close.

I blink my eyes back open and spot the two packs sitting beside Lucas. They’re both ripped open with medical supplies scattered about. I uncurl my right fist to reach for them and pause at the sight of my frostbitten fingertips. I flex them. At least they’re not black. I got off lucky, but they’re stiff and swollen. That’s going to be a problem.

I rummage through what supplies he has and uncork two potions with Lucas’ assistance. I down both at once, then shove a willow bark stick into my mouth. I chew, mixing the potions with the oils of the bark. They fizz in my mouth, and it’s a fight to keep any from spilling, but finally I gulp it down, the bark sticking in my throat before dissolving.

The pain lessens, and my brain stops sloshing within my skull. My stomach cramps horrifically, but that’s the cost I bear for the relief. My fingers move a little more.

Slowly, I turn and face the body.

It’s a fight not to faint again, and Lucas wraps his arm around my middle to pin my good shoulder against him when I sway.

His voice is strained, and the concern penetrates some of the panic building in me. “Let me take you back. I’ll gather the body and bring it to the estate.”

I must be in worse shape than I realize if he’s willing to wait to save Astoria. Unfortunately, our options are limited. I barely shake my head and instantly regret it when my brain throbs within my skull. “No. I need to do this now.” I swallow, and a shudder quakes me. “Help me?”

I hate how small and broken my voice is almost as much as I hate that my statement was a question. Pressure builds within my eyes and my throat, worsening when Lucas says, “Whatever you need, V. I’ve got you.”

My lips press in a thin line, keeping my sounds of physical and emotional agony at bay when Lucas pulls me to standing. He says nothing about how weak I am or how disappointing a partner I turned out to be. He just secures his arm around me and bears my weight as I step up to the corpse that floats several feet off the ground.

The body is like something out of a healer’s book. All the skin is missing and two milky eyes stare at nothing. Magic ripples faintly around it, preserving it against decay.

Lucas’ strength is the only thing that holds me up. I pant, sweat chilling me. My throat is too tight, and I can’t get enough air. Spots threaten to reclaim my consciousness, but I manage to gasp out, “I need to access his right hand.”

Lucas uses his magic to rotate the body so that the correct side is before me. I swallow and try to keep my voice even. “I need you.”

“Anything.”

The hushed whisper is almost too much to bear, but it is nothing compared to the burden of my task. “Move my ring from my left to right hand.”

I flex my fingers for him, and at least that is not painful. Or the potions are doing a great job for being an off-the-cuff mixture. He twists the ring slowly, easing it off my left middle finger. It’s much less damaged than my dominant hand. I hold my right hand up and try not to stare at the swollen rawness from the frostbite. Lucas slides my ring over the first knuckle where it stops halfway to the second.

Lucas’ voice is in my ear. “It’s not going to fit.”

“Make it.” He looks at me sharply, and I grit my teeth before snapping, “Do it.”

“Maybe we should⁠—”

“Stop being a fucking coward and do it—AH FUCKING HELL!”

My knees give out and my head snaps back as Lucas’ threads wrap around the ring and rip it onto my right finger. I scream, the sound echoing in this tall stone prison of a basement. Tears swell and threaten to spill, but I choke them back with a snarl. No. Absolutely fucking not. I am so completely over this entire day—no, this fucking year. I will get out of this hell, and then I’ll break. But not a single moment before.

My breath hisses through my gritted teeth, my lips curling back to bare them. I no longer care if Lucas is holding up my entire weight. Whatever gets me through this gods forsaken moment. He bears it easily enough, his forehead pressing against the side of my face. There’s a tremble in his frame.

I swallow rhythmically before gasping, “Is it too much for you?”

He lifts his head. “What?”

“Your grandmother and mother were killed. If seeing this murdered body is too much for you, then I can handle it on my own.” How I plan to do that is beyond me, but Lucas doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, not when he should never have been burdened with this task in the first place.

Lucas shakes his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m just…”

“I’ll be alright if you need a moment.” I flex my fingers experimentally. They bend this time with less pain. It’s not enough for a fist, but enough to complete my task. I scrape my boots against the stone flooring until my feet get under me. I grit my teeth, my vision flashing and sickness surging when I shift my weight to them.

“You shouldn’t be alone for this, you stubborn idiot,” Lucas snaps.

My face softens. “How did you ever survive this cruel world while caring for such vicious creatures?”

He huffs, expression still tight. “Stop pretending like you don’t have the same loving kindness as I do. If you were as unfeeling as you believe you are, you wouldn’t have risked everything to try to save Tori from the Archweaver. You wouldn’t have healed me when I arrived at your place. You’re worthy of affection, Valen. You’re worth it to me.”

The rawness in his tone and the brightness of his intense stare burn into me like a brand, but he doesn’t know what Alasdair has done to my mind. He doesn’t understand that my own mother abandoned me. He doesn’t know my sister did the same.

I don’t know how to respond or what words would piece together a description of this strange pain that fills my chest. All I can do is show him how much his words mean to me by honoring what he wants the most in the world.

Even if it kills me, he deserves to be happy with the one he loves. I wet my lips and look away. “Let’s finish this and go free Astoria before anything else happens.”

“What are you going to do?” Lucas asks.

“If it’s him and not an elaborate ruse set by Alasdair, then his signet ring will appear when I press mine.”

He scans the body’s hand. “Is it hidden?”

“Yes. It’s a failsafe to keep the ring safe in case the wearer is assassinated. Time weakens it, making it easier for others to break through the enchantment to steal it.”

Before I can change my mind or pass out again, I press the ring against the meaty middle finger.

A blue light glows, and my vision blurs. A ring shimmers into existence under mine. Too late, I realize I’m going to break apart. My knees buckle again, but Lucas catches me. I can’t look at him. I don’t think I could stand it. His silent strength and compassion are too much, and the vice-like tightness around my heart loosens.

A tear escapes to slip down my face. Emboldened, I whisper the words to ignite the transition of power. “I, Valentin Bauer the Sixth, accept the burden of my family line. I shall protect it from all those who try to corrupt or purge it.” I gasp, my hand shaking so hard that the rings almost disconnect. My throat is so swollen that I barely swallow and force out in a broken sob, “Rest, father. May we meet again in the Tapestry.”

His ring clicks, and a flame engulfs the body. It is a pure white light that consumes his mortal vessel until there is nothing but ashes. Not even the bones remain. With it, his soul is guided back to the Tapestry. My ring vibrates, a beacon to the magic to signify who is the Heir to the Bauer line.

I withdraw my hand, and my ring changes. The ring I’ve seen sitting on my father’s right hand my whole life now rests on mine. The successor’s signet ring slides underneath until I am ready to name the next in line. The power of the head of the Bauer family dances within my soul, my heart beating erratically. My eyes shine with a bright, shifting light as if the sun is streaming through the ocean.

I reach for my left shoulder, hooking my hand over it to touch the wrapping covering my raw wound and the fractured bone beneath. Magic flows through me effortlessly, generations of my bloodline strengthening me beyond measure. A protective shield wraps around the damaged bone, stabilizing the fracture and coating the open wound like a layer of skin.

My nail slides along the bandaging, my mind sinking into a deep awareness of how the pattern of material weaves together to create stability and reversing the process with a wave of entropy. The fabric dissolves into individual particles that fall away like sand, and my arm is freed.

An icy coldness whispers along my crown, and Lucas shifts, his face reflecting the blue glow of the magic that settles onto my hair in the form of a shimmering wreath. His lips part in awe, his breath catching, and I cannot take my eyes off of him. The magic dissipates, falling down my body like the first snow. My skin absorbs the magic of being the leader of the Preservation Domain, and I glow faintly for a single moment.

Then the magic dims until all that is left is the faint illumination of the few crystals along the basement stone walls. Lucas’ honey eyes meet mine, and the urge to lean in to kiss him is overwhelming.

It takes me a moment to find my voice. “I’ve taken my father’s place and, with it, accepted the power of Preservation in its purest form.”

It’s my duty to the Bauer family. We’ve held the Preservation Domain for two thousand years. I cannot let that reign fall for the selfish reason of wanting to be with two people who cannot and will not join the Order.

But something stops me from voicing this, a hesitation without a clear source. A sense of deep loneliness sinks into my bones, keeping me reliant on Lucas’ arm around me to keep standing. Otherwise, I’d sink to the floor to stare at the ashes that were once my father. Who am I doing this for? Pain lances through me as Astoria’s image appears in my mind. How could I ever forgive her for this?

I try to remember that it’s not her fault. That we all made choices along the way that led to my family fracturing.

“Valen.”

Lucas’ soft whisper is a summoning I cannot ignore. His handsome face, tight with concern, breaks the dam within my heart, and my eyes burn. Then I turn the rest of my body towards him. I embrace him tightly, my arms aching. He doesn’t flinch or complain that I’m crushing him. He simply holds me.

I mumble quietly, “My father is dead, and I will be next.”

Lucas flinches, head snapping up from where it was tucked against my neck. “What?”

He tries to pull away to see my face, but I tighten my hold and twist my frostbitten hand in his hair to keep him against me. I need his warmth to keep the broken, cracked pieces of myself together enough to finish telling him the rest of my truth. “Without his protection, I will be deemed a traitor to the Order. I will be hunted and brought before the Archweaver. My corpse will take the space where he hung Astoria’s aunt. Without my father, there will be no one left to save me.”

“I will save you,” he snarls.

I smile, and a tear escapes. “A romantic through and through. But you’ll leave with Astoria, and the two of you will go far from here. Atticus cannot risk keeping me alive when I pose a threat to Alasdair’s place as his Heir. He will be distracted by ensuring I am eliminated, and it will give you the chance to flee.”

“Come with us.” Lucas tries to break out of my hold again, but I don’t let him.

“It’s too late. Atticus must have sensed the shift in Councilors. If he didn’t know about my father’s fate before, he does now. I need to stay put. I am the leader of the Preservation Domain.”

“Valen.” His voice cracks, and I shake my head.

“I can give you both this chance to escape.”

“No. We will not leave you. You know Tori will never leave you.”

“Are you sure about that?” My throat is raw. “I knew that Viola was dead.”

Lucas goes still before wrenching himself back so hard that he breaks my hold on his hair. His arms are still around me, but he stares down at me in open shock. He searches my face, his honey eyes boring into my soul. “You told Tor that you didn’t.”

“I was taking advantage of a gray area.”

His brows tighten. “What does that mean?”

I swallow, but my voice is still a rough rasp. “No one told me she was dead… but I also didn’t look for her.” My eyes squeeze shut, my heart pounding. “I never confirmed Viola’s death, but I had a suspicion when she went missing.”

Lucas takes a step back, his head shaking. “But Tor knows that. Hell, I know that. I don’t understand why you look so ashamed?”

“Because I should’ve known!” My roar echoes through the stone walls. My chest heaves, my eyes wide. I stumble out of his hold, my hands trembling as images of Viola’s hanged, slowly rotting corpse flash through my mind. She was doomed to haunt this world when her body wasn’t burned and her soul damned to prolonged torture. It was a cruel fate, too horrifying for me to comprehend until now, while I stand trembling before my father’s ashes.

“I knew, but I didn’t want to know. Viola was like family. She was my mother’s best friend. And my father knew. He would’ve seen her every time he went to the Archweaver estate while carefully ensuring I remained at home. He stayed silent, and I never asked. I didn’t want to know. Daily existence was easier that way.”

I can’t look at Lucas. It would only make my grief worse.

I close my eyes when the cavern-like basement begins to close in on me. I need to escape. I can’t stand to be entombed within here for another moment.

“We should go to Memorial Park now. With Atticus aware of my inheritance, Alasdair will know as well. We need to steal the statue while there’s still a chance.”

Lucas sucks in breath, his hand tightening on my side. “What about your injuries? Can you fight?”

My throat aches as I swallow down my pain and grief. “I can endure it. Now let’s go save our beloved.”