Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3)

by K. R. Fajardo

Unable to see, Citera turned her head in the direction of the small, but familiar voice. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” her father asked, sounding slightly confused and angry about whoever else was in the room.

  Furrowing her brow, she reached her hand out in hopes of calming him. “Dad, who is it?”

  “Hi Citera.” A voice she did recognize called back to her. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

  “Tyran.” Grinning she reached out with her free hand, hoping he would take it. After a brief pause, she heard him cross the room to stand where Janil once was. Seconds later his rough calloused hand wrapped around hers, engulfing it with its massive size. “Thank you for coming… are you the one who rescued us?”

  Instantly a heavy silence descended upon the room. She could feel the tension nearly double and even the easy going Tyran seemed to go rigid at her question. He moved to pull his hand from her grasp, but Citera tightened her hold. He was hiding something… they all were… and there was no way she was letting him go until she found out what that something was. “Tyran?”

  “Let us heal you first Citera,” Tyran answered quickly, still dodging her questions. With a quick squeeze of her hand, he pulled free of her grasp to address her father. “If you will allow us of course.”

  “How?” Her father asked again, his distrust made clear by the venom in his tone.

  Tyran exhaled heavily. “There is an ancient medicine the donors have used for centuries. It heals their bodies by regenerating cells at double the normal rate.” Tyran paused, rubbing a hand nervously across the back of his neck. “It’s how they are always healthy despite the fact we drain them of much of their blood on a regular basis.”

  “Tyran, if you have a medicine like this in the camp… one that could help heal people… why have you not told us about it before?” Janil asked calmly, though Citera could hear the disapproval in her tone.

  “Because it was forbidden.”

  “Forbidden?” Mikel snapped, “Who forbids something that could help save lives?”

  “The ancient ones.”

  “So why are you offering it to me?” Citera couldn’t help but ask.

  A heavy silence descended, as Tyran seemed to deliberate how he wished to answer. “Let’s just say, I feel confident that this is what K would want me to do,” he stated after brief pause. “But there is a catch.”

  “Of course there is.” Mikel huffed. “There always is with the Full-bloods around here.”

  Tyran narrowed his gaze at the disgruntled father, but chose to ignore the statement since both Mikel’s daughter and the boy he viewed as a son were both laying in clinic beds, thanks to members of his own race. Clearing his throat, he motioned to Ivy to step forward. “The medicine is a mixture of herbs that come from the Caster region and one final ingredient from our own.” He continued as the small woman pulled a packet of crushed leaves from the bag slung over her shoulder. Walking over to one of the cabinets, Ivy pulled out a large mortar and pestle before returning to a nearby table and dumping them inside. Picking up the pestle, she began slowly grinding the leaves into a fine dust.

  Mikel and Janil watched silently as she worked until she had achieved the overall texture she was looking for. Once she had, she gently placed the pestle down on the table and turned expectantly to Tyran. Watching her closely, Mikel narrowed his gaze. “What is the final ingredient?”

  With a heavy exhale, Tyran pulled a blade from its sheath around his thigh and approached the table. Removing his glove, he ran the blade cleanly across his palm and held the bleeding hand over the mortar; filling it with his own blood.

  “You want her to drink your blood!” Mikel exclaimed, while Janil silently gaped at what was happening. “Absolutely not! There is no way I am letting you feed that to my children!” Upon hearing her father’s exclamation, Citera wrinkled her nose, “Blood? He wants me to drink blood?”

  “It doesn’t matter because it isn’t happening.” Mikel snapped, glaring at Tyran. “Now get out, both of you.”

  Shrugging, Tyran resheathed his blade as he turned to leave with Ivy following close behind. He was just about out the door when Janil stopped him. “Tyran… wait.” Pausing with his hand on the flap, Tyran looked back over his shoulder. “All they have to do is drink that and they will be healed?”

  “No, there’s one more thing.” Biting the inside of his mouth, he locked his gaze back with Mikel’s. “They would need to have a Full-blood’s venom in their blood.”

  “You want to bite them too!” Mikel exclaimed.

  Jumping to his feet he knocked his chair to the floor startling Citera with a loud crash.

  Clutching her chest, Citera frowned. “Wait. I thought if you consumed a Full-blood’s blood after being bit it changed you.”

  “How do you…” Tyran began, obviously shocked by her knowledge of one of his people’s tightly kept secrets. But then remembering who Citera was and who she was linked to, stopped. “On second thought, never mind. I really don’t want to know how you know that.” Running a hand down his face he shook his head, “The herbs in the mixture prevent the change from occurring.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Mikel growled. “Not only do you want them to drink your blood, but you also expect me to let you feed from them as well; as if she hasn’t already been through enough thanks to your kind!” Charging forward, Mikel was stopped as Janil’s hand wrapped tightly around his wrist.

  “It’s not his fault Mikel, he is only trying to help.” Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear even though Tyran undoubtedly would still hear everything she was saying. “He feels guilty enough already, don’t make him feel even worse for trying make it right.”

  Glancing behind him and seeing the worry on Janil’s face, Mikel took a moment to calm himself knowing she was right. Even though Tyran had nothing to do with what happened to his kids, both of them were fully aware of the extreme guilt he carried as a result of finding their bodies in the valley. When he had shown up at the clinic door with their limp bodies in his arms, Tyran had dropped to his knees before Mikel and pleaded for his forgiveness. He claimed, that as head of security he should have known the Shadows’ men were that close to the camp, and that because his incompetence had resulted in the near deaths of both of his kids, Mikel had a right to take out his vengeance in whatever way he saw fit. Needless to say, Mikel turned down his offer.

  After all, there was no way Tyran could have known the Black Guard had figured out how to navigate the dark depths of the forest. But that still didn’t make any of what was happening any easier either. And the mere thought of putting his kids through any more distress, after all they had already been through, twisted Mikel’s heart in his chest. Seeing his anger slowly beginning to dissipate, Janil smiled weakly and released his arm.

  After a few calming breaths, Mikel turned back to face a downcast Tyran. “I can’t…” he said, his voice much calmer than before. Glancing over his shoulder at his wounded daughter’s bruised and swollen face, he shook his head. “I want her healed, but not like this. She has already been bitten twice… and at least one of those, if not both were against her will. I don’t want her to have to go through that again.”

  “I was not aware.” Frowning he glanced over at Citera, “And I am truly sorry she has had to go through that. However, I may offer an alternative.” As he spoke, Tyran’s gaze drifted back down to the bandage on her wrist. “Since we are fairly certain she was bitten by K, and knowing her venom lasts much longer than a normal Full-bloods, there is a slim chance some of it is still in her system. Meaning she may be able to just drink the mixture.” Glancing over at Dirik’s battered body Tyran sighed, “With Dirik, however, there would be no way around it.”

  Trapped inside her prison of darkness, Citera listened as the three of them continued to argue back and forth over the pros and cons of what Tyran was offering. But as they debated, not paying her any mind, Citera began to feel a familiar pain take root and grow in the center of her chest. No
t already. Grimacing, she bit her lip to keep a groan from escaping. I need more time, I need to see Dirik first! Realizing if she didn’t do something quick, she was going to have to go back to Haven without seeing for herself that Dirik was alright, Citera straightened in the bed. “Let’s do it.”

  Silence filled the room. Certain that all eyes were upon her, Citera did her best to keep her face straight despite her pain. “Let me go first to see if it works and then we can do Dirik. There is no point putting Dirik through any more trauma if it won’t help him.”

  Worry creased Mikel’s features as he approached the bed to stand next to his daughter. “Citera, I don’t think this is a good idea. There are other medicines we can try… Janil has some of her paste already made up. If we use it to make a compress for your eyes, I think it will do wonders to help with the swelling.”

  “But it won’t heal the bones Dad and I need to see Dirik. I need him to know I’m alright before…” Before I have to go back to sleep. Citera bit her lower lip to keep the words from tumbling from her mouth and upsetting her father even more. “Before it’s too late.” At least it’s not a complete lie.

  “Are you certain?” Tyran’s voice called to her from across the room. “I will understand if this is not something you want to do.”

  “Positive… although, what happens if K’s venom isn’t inside me anymore? Will it hurt me?”

  “If you no longer have venom in your system the medicine will cause you to have severe stomach cramps and nausea.” Ivy answered in Tyran’s stead. “It’s our bodies natural reaction to the consumption of blood… the venom from the Full-bloods suppresses this response.”

  Citera cringed at the thought of how much it would hurt to vomit with all her current injuries, especially her broken ribs, but plastered on a confident expression knowing all eyes in the room were watching her. “Ok, let’s do it.”

  After a moment of silence, the sound of tiny feet crossing the room could be heard, followed by the cabinet door opening and closing. Seconds later, those same steps approached her, stopping next to the bed, “Here Citera.”

  Cautiously she held out her hands, and grasped ahold of the glass as it was placed in her hands. Feeling the warmth of the liquid inside, she slowly brought the cup up to her nose, sniffed the contents; and immediately regretted her decision as waves of nausea crashed upon her. Not wanting to vomit, Citera slapped a hand over her mouth and nose. But even that didn’t stop the combined scent of blood and herbs from bombarding her senses and churning her stomach.

  “Drink it all at once and as fast as you can,” Ivy offered, “And try not to smell it.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Citera mumbled as a second wave of nausea drained the color from her skin. I can do this, she coaxed herself, waiting for the worst of it to pass. I need to do this for Dirik. Once she was finally satisfied the wave had passed, Citera sucked in a deep breath, pinched her nose, and held it as she lifted the glass to her lips.

  “Citera, you don’t have to do this.” Her father offered, placing a hand over hers, halting the movement of the glass.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Determination set in her features, Citera closed the final distance between the cup and her lips, downing the entire contents in one massive swallow. The lukewarm mixture tasted worse than it had smelled, and wrenched her stomach the instant it hit it. Doing her best to fight her body’s desire to evacuate the foul tasting liquid, she slapped her hand back over her mouth and took several deep breaths in and out through her nose. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Cocking her head to one side, Ivy approached the bed and pressed her small hand against Citera’s sweat drenched brow. “I believe she is rejecting it. The time must have been too great after all.”

  Closing his eyes, Tyran dropped his gaze to the floor while the others watched helplessly as Citera groaned and writhed atop the narrow bed. Already in such a weakened state, it didn’t take long before her breathing grew labored and her entire body began to shiver uncontrollably. Even so, Citera continued her valiant struggle to keep the medicine down.

  “I need to see him…” She whimpered, holding out a trembling hand. “Please, Dad.”

  Taking her hand into his own, Mikel leaned over and brushed her sweat drenched hair from her face. Keeping his eyes locked on his ailing daughter, he released a defeated sigh. “Do it Tyran.”

  With laden steps, Tyran silently approached and took position on the opposite side of the bed. Slowly raising his gaze to meet with his, Mikel was surprised to see the uncertainty in his eyes as he looked from Citera then back to him. Thinking maybe he was doubting his resolve, Mikel repeated himself trying to sound as confident in his decision as possible. “It’s alright Tyran, do whatever you need to do to make it work.”

  However, Tyran still didn’t budge. Looking even more uncomfortable than he had before, he glanced over at Ivy. Understanding his unspoken wishes, Ivy spoke up. “He needs you to tell him where Mikel.”

  Furrowing his brow, Mikel glanced from the large man to the petite woman standing beside him. “Where what?”

  “Where to bite.” She answered as if it should have been obvious to them all. “It is the rules, he is not allowed to pick where he feeds from, the donor must.”

  Mouth agape, Mikel shifted his attention back up to Tyran, who refused to meet his gaze. “I… I” he stammered looking back down at Citera. “I guess…”

  “My wrist,” Citera interrupted. With her teeth clenched, she extended the arm already scarred by K’s bite. “And hurry, I don’t think I can keep it down much longer.”

  Hearing her demand and seeing her distress, Tyran raised his gaze and took her wrist into his massive hands. Carefully removing the dressing that covered the nearly healed wound, he locked his reddened gaze with Mikel as he allowed his canines to extend to a frightening length.

  “It might be better if you look away.”

  Swallowing loudly, Mikel shook his head, unable to break his gaze from Tyran’s shocking appearance. With a wicked gleam in his eye, Tyran shrugged his shoulders. “As you wish,” he said lowly, then in one swift move, sank his teeth deep into Citera’s wrist.

  Caught off guard by the abruptness of his action and the surge of pain that accompanied it, Citera did her best not to scream out loud. Instead she bit down hard on her lip and tried to focus on the euphoric sensation his venom was beginning to build within her. This is so strange, she mused, allowing a drunkin giggle to escape. “Citera, are you all right?” her father asked, his voice was laced with concern. But despite her desire to not upset him any further, Citera found herself grinning once again as the overwhelming sense of peace only grew more intense with each draw of blood that Tyran took from her. Thinking it best she just remain quiet before she said or did something she would regret, Citera relaxed into the comforts of the mattress and let the pain drift away while she listened contentedly to the sound of their two hearts beating in unison.

  “He can’t hear it,” Ivy spoke, as if reading her mind. “Only you can. And you must tell him when they are no longer synchronized, for if he has not already stopped by that point, that is when he must.” Wrapped blissfully in her contented daze, all Citera could manage was a weak nod.

  Her mind began to fill with images of Dirik, she recalled the times they had spent together playing, laughing, and working. And it didn’t take long for her thoughts to drift once again back to their kiss. But just as she was thinking she could stay in this state forever, she heard a thump not in tune with the other, followed by another and then another. And with every unmatched beat that echoed in her mind, the euphoric feeling faded a little more, being replaced by a much more unpleasant feeling… fear.

  “Tyran, stop.” She breathed, grimacing as the pain of the bite slowly returned. Expecting that he would release her immediately, she moved to pull her arm from his grasp, only to have him tighten his grip. “Tyran?” Confused as to what was going on, she tried again to free her arm and this time her fu
tile attempt was answered by a low growl that rumbled out from deep within his chest. “Tyran, let me go.”

  “My lord, the girl has asked you to stop.” Ivy spoke, appearing unsure of what to do. “You must release her.” The sense of urgency in the unemotional girl’s voice made Citera’s heart rate instantly double. “Dad, what’s going on? Why isn’t he listening?”

  “Tyran!” Mikel shouted, “Stop this, this instant!” Storming around the bed, he attempted to pull the massive man off his daughter and instead found himself planted on the floor several feet away. Quickly recovering, Mikel’s face twisted with fury as he jumped to his feet and stormed back toward the bed. Grabbing ahold of his arm, Mikel, along with Janil, struggled to pull him off her and in a matter of seconds, the clinic around Citera erupted into chaos.

  In the midst of all the shouting, Citera heard the distinct sound of metal being pulled from a sheath, followed only moments later by Tyran releasing his bite as something crashed to the floor beside her bed.

  “Tyran?” Citera called into the silence. “Dad… anyone?”

  Choking back her tears, Citera cringed as a warm sensation, similar to the one she experienced when she drank the red formula back in Vicaris, began coursing through her veins and settling into her injuries. In mere seconds the terrifying sensation consumed her body in a heat so intense she thought for certain she was being burnt alive from the inside. Remembering how the formula worked before, Citera tried to stay strong knowing the effects were only temporary, but when the worst of the pain settled into the injuries around her eyes, Citera could bear it no longer. Pressing the palms of her hands against the searing pain of her eyes, Citera screamed loudly and curled into a ball.

  “Citera, what’s happening!” Mikel shouted, grasping ahold of one of her hands he pulled it away to get a better look.

  Bones are the worst. Jarod’s simple statement echoed in her mind as she remembered how badly she hurt when he healed her ribs back at the clinic. Gritting her teeth to the point she was certain she was going to break them, she fought off the urge to yell out again and instead focused on the knowledge that hopefully this would all be over in a moment. “I think I am healing,” she ground out, trying her best to breathe through the pain. And just when she thought she couldn’t bear it anymore, that she had reached the limits of what one person’s body could handle, the pain was gone.