274: Shadows of shame (part 2)

Shadows of shame (part 2)

"… What is happening here, Aldric?"0

As Aldric's hand released its grip over her eyes, Bastian's voice, sharp and authoritative, sliced through the confusion. However, what was even more bewildering was that he didn't rush immediately to her aid.

Was this truly the same Bastian she had known before?

"I fell from my horse, and Lady Adelaide here… She… She performed a miracle for me. My essence was far more dominant, sapping her strength. I urge you not to misjudge the situation."

While Aldric's words held truth, his tone carried an odd twist, as if he were bending the narrative. His explanation seemed to hint at a different story.

"Misjudge? … There's no space for misinterpretation this time," Bastian responded with a dryness in his tone.

A feeling of weightlessness washed over her as Bastian leaned down to pick her up. Despite his cold tone, he handled her with care cradling her in his arms. But something was off – his heartbeat echoed in her ears, a frantic beat that sounded far from normal, paired with his rapid breaths as if he was exerting himself greatly just by carrying her.

Nonetheless, she felt grateful for his intervention. She would have preferred being in hell rather than Aldric's arms.

"What have you done?" Bastian's voice was a soft, tortured whisper near her ear, his entire body trembling under her weight.

Her eyes felt heavy, and it took considerable effort to move them. She just couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, nor respond to him. 

"Why…" His voice held a pain she couldn't quite comprehend, and for a moment, she wished he would go back to ignoring her.

Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to believe that his question had anything to do with her current situation.

"Thank you for carrying her, Bastian. I'm ashamed of myself… We're both married, but just like in her room… She's just so hard to resist."

What room ?

What was he talking about?

"Egon…" Adela whimpered. Maybe this was just a nightmare that would dissipate when she opened her eyes, finding herself safe in her bed beside her husband.

Bastian's arms seemed to weaken slightly under her weight before he tightened his hold, drawing her closer to his chest. "Don't… Don't say my brother's name now."

Why?

"…I can explain what happened to your husband if you'd only allow me, Adela. Let's resolve this before we end up harming ourselves and those we hold dear."

"Mind your words, Aldric." Bastian's voice seethed with anger. "No one will breathe a word to Egon. Not for now, at least. I'll handle it at the right time."

Stunned, she felt like a spectator in a twisted play on Lanark's royal stage. She raised her gaze to Bastian, his face a battlefield of emotions, his scarred eye glistening with perspiration.

"Egon," she whimpered once more.

"…I'll take you to him," Bastian declared, his tone steadier. The surroundings blurred as he turned, striding forward.

"You left her hairpin. In the moment when she frantically shredded my shirt to save my life, she used it."

Bastian froze, his eye narrowing at Adela with immeasurable disdain.

"I'm simply suggesting that if our discretion is important, we should avoid leaving traces behind," Aldric's voice oozed with calculated intent.

Adela's response came in a strained, weak voice, burdened by exhaustion and exasperation. "What... What are you talking about?"

A part of her longed to break free from Bastian's hold, to face Aldric's manipulation head-on. But that would be futile, leading her to fall into his trap again. Instead, she decided to address whatever scheme Aldric was weaving against her by seeking her husband's aid first and foremost.

"Return, Aldric. Go back to Varinthia. Your Kingdom and wife are waiting for you," Bastian's tone remained cold and detached, echoing the words Adela had used when roles were reversed.

If only Bastian had arrived a bit earlier on the scene, perhaps this entire ordeal could have been averted.

"My first wife and counselors handle Varinthia admirably, even without me. I've been preparing them for this role for quite some time since I'm fully committed to the oath I made to my mother before that dog murdered her... I will be damned if I let it happen again, I won't stand by and let Adelaide suffer the same fate."

"No." Bastian's vehement refusal reverberated, encompassing more than just a simple answer.

Adela felt she was missing key pieces of information, evoking such a strong reaction from her brother-in-law while Aldric's words seemed to have lost their ability to affect her.

Just as hope seemed lost, a tug from the mate bond heralded Egon's approach like a soothing antidote to her exhaustion. She managed to shift her body slightly away from Bastian.

Surprisingly, being in Bastian's arms wasn't comforting at all; in fact, his embrace felt rather dark, similar to Aldric's.

Egon's arrival was swift, his gaze upon her intense and primal, like a gust of wind sweeping in. He spoke calmly but his eyes were a blazing red, his attention tracing every inch of her.

"Give her to me," he demanded.

Bastian's body, no longer trembling, sagged slightly as he handed her over to Egon.

"Are you injured anywhere?" Egon inquired, his concern contrasting the intensity in his eyes.

"No," she replied.

"...You're covered in mud… and your wrist..." Egon's jaw clenched twice, his controlled demeanor not masking the intensity of his emotions. "Your wrist is bruised." He hissed.

A chilling sensation crept over Adela, a palpable bloodlust emanating from her husband that couldn't be denied.

"Bastian, take her back," Egon ordered.

"No!" Adela protested, gripping Egon's shirt with a determined hold.

A bitter sigh escaped Egon's lips before he swallowed hard. "Of course, keep protecting everyone else," he retorted emotionlessly. "Just know, you're not the only one paying the price for your martyrdom anymore."

"Egon, I can provide an explanation," Aldric interjected, his intrusion unwelcome.

Egon's posture remained unchanged, radiating that intense antagonism that seemed to send a shiver down Adela's spine, but he kept his gaze forward, refusing to succumb to Aldric's provocative statement.

"If you value your tongue, warlock, then shut the fuc* up," Egon's words were a low growl under his breath. "This will be the last time I honor her wishes. No one leaves a mark on my wife and escapes the consequences."

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