Chapter 31: The truth about Ayla
"Fuck!"
The curse tore from Cassian’s throat as his fist came crashing down on the healer’s worktable.
Glass exploded across the room.
Vials of carefully brewed potions toppled over, spilling their contents across the wooden surface.
His chest rose and fell violently.
It had happened. He had felt it.
The moment Ares’ fangs pierced Ayla’s neck...the minute his brother had marked Ayla.
At first, he had convinced himself he was imagining it. That the strange ache that had ripped through his chest had merely been another side effect of drinking way too much but seeing Ayla just moments ago draped in his brother’s shirt and looking frantically for him, his mark standing proudly against the smooth skin of her neck.
There had been no mistaking it. She had chosen Ares for her first.
Could she not see that Ares was not good for her? Could she not see him and how much he wanted her.
How many nights he had spent pining for just a taste of her and she had given herself to his brother.
He had thought her better than this. Had he been wrong?
He looked down at his hand.
He was bleeding. It had to be from when he slammed his fists into the table, the broken shards of glass from the vial were sticking out from his skin. He stared at the blood welling up in the cuts, watched it drip onto the floorboards.
They had a bond now, him and her. She belonged to Ares now before she would belong to him.
The door of the healing chambers creaked open behind him.
"Are you alright?" A voice called out.
Cassian straightened his spine and turned to a man standing in the doorway.
He was young with brown hair and gray eyes. He held in his hand a woven basket filled with green stems and dried flowers and he had a look of concern on his face as he stared at him.
Cassian had never seen him before.
"Who are you supposed to be?"
The man smiled completely unbothered by Cassian’s snappy tone.
"I am new." He answered, lifting the basket in his hands slightly. "I work with master Aldric and I help him gather herbs."
He took a step forward, his eyes dropped to Cassian’s hands and they widened
"You are injured."
Cassian looked down at his hand again.
"Yes."
"I can help. I need you to just stay exactly where you are and I will get something for that."
Cassian said nothing, merely watching as the man dropped the basket and crossed to the shelves along the far wall, running his fingers over jars and pouches until he found what he was looking for.
Within moments, he returned carrying a clay pot and a strip of clean linen and he gestured to the chair.
"Sit."
Cassian did not sit but he held out his hand.
"This may sting a bit"
The man wrapped his hand around Cassian’s and first began pulling the glass shards out one by one.
Cassian hissed as the pain ricocheted up his arm.
"My apologies" the man mumbled.
After he was done making sure there were no remnants of glass, he applied the cool balm across the wounds and wrapped the linen tight around his palm and over his knuckles, securing it with a neat knot.
"There," he said, turning Cassian’s hand this way and that "That should hold."
Cassian looked down at the bandage. The man had done a very fine work.
"Thank you." He murmured.
"It is nothing." He said, gathering the clay pot and turning away.
Silence settled between them.
"My lord, if I may..."
"Of course." Cassian said.
"I may be overstepping and if I am, allow me to apologize in advance but I cannot help but wonder what had gotten you in such a mood to hurt yourself."
"Can I ask you a question?" Cassian said.
"Yes, my lord"
"You ever wanted something so badly that you convinced yourself that it is definitely the will of the goddess that it becomes yours?"
The man tilted his head at this and answered without hesitation.
"Yes. I want to believe everyone has, my lord."
"Please... just Cassian is fine."
The man nodded.
"Does this have something to do with why you have..." his voice trailed off when Cassian pushed to his feet.
"Never mind why." he told the man. "And I thank you,..."
"Alistair," the man supplied, that same easy smile returning to his face.
"Thank you, Alistair for this."
"It is nothing."
Cassian turned and walked out.
...
The smile on Alistair’s face dropped the moment the door closed.
He stood there, his fingers tightening around the clay pot until his knuckles turned white.
He knew what this was about. He had asked around enough to know that all three princes were head over heels for Ayla.
Same Ayla he had overheard going at it with Ares like a common whore. He had listened to her cries of pleasure and had only been interrupted by the other one, Willow was it? lurking also in the shadows so he had had to go before she saw him.
How could she do that?
The broom clattered to the floor. Alistair wiped his hands on his tunic, his jaw tight.
He crossed to the window and stared out at the gray courtyard where the pack members milled about their business, oblivious to what was coming for them.
Did she have any idea what she was... who she was?
To think she would give herself so cheaply and freely to this pack that have caused nothing but pain to her.
Alistair scoffed with disgust.
He was here because of her... everything that has led up to this moment was because of her and she had gone and mated with someone else?
Well, he and her would have to have another conversation and this time, she had to understand what was on the line for them or she was no longer useful.
And if she proved not useful then...