Chapter Twenty Three

Rory’s hiss melted my core, along with the delicious taste of his healing blood. He knew I would need it, and offered himself for me to drink as soon as I woke up. My head was pounding and fuzzy, so I joyfully accepted, latching on before even leaving the bed, meaning that Bastion awoke to quite a sight. Rory squirmed underneath me, tapping my legs to tell me he was close to losing consciousness. I closed the wound, leaning back onto his hardened cock.
“Sorry, I was hungry.” I apologized weakly. He chuckled, the lethargic sound barely audible.
“It’s okay, love. Why don’t we go get you fed?” I glanced down, moving my hips slightly and eliciting a loud groan from my royal.
“Don’t you need something first?” I asked in all sincerity. He glanced at the clock, then back at me.
“Actually, we are running a bit behind. I have a surprise planned for you. I’ll be okay.” I hid my disappointment, giving him a quick kiss before hopping down from the bed.
What could he possibly have in store for me?
After breakfast, Rory checked his watch, patting his lips and placing his cloth napkin atop his plate. He even ate with grace. “Ready?” He asked sweetly, taking the last sip of his coffee as he stood up. I grinned, following him like a kid on Christmas checking to see what Santa left beneath the tree, but his surprise wasn’t an object. My steps started to falter as we approached Jesse and Bastion waiting outside James’ old office.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, my brows furrowed and my stomach wound in nerves.
“We thought it would be a good idea for you to be here for this.” Rory explained, taking my hands in his and kissing them.
“What is ‘this’?”
“We’re going to be collecting some research from the oracle’s office. We need to know how the Dark King will be freed, and there’s nothing written about the topic anywhere else. We hardly know a thing about him, period.” Jesse spoke up.
“Wait, so we are going to search his room? Why not ask one of the gods for information?” Jesse’s shoulders fell slightly, making me regret asking.
“I did. They directed me here.”
“Of course they did.” I mumbled beneath my breath. I inhaled deeply, releasing my air in one smooth stream through my lips and stepping forward so I could loop my arm through Bastion’s. He was tense, for good reason. No one had ever stepped foot in this room besides our oracle. We had no idea what to expect.
Jesse produced a key from his front pocket, inserting it into the door and turning the handle until it swung against the inward wall. I was given the go ahead to step inside, and I followed through, my eyes scanning the quaint office space. Unlike the others, James had opted for the smallest spare room we had to use for his office. He wasn’t a fan of the grandeur of the mansion, and felt like the tighter environment would make it easier for him to concentrate. I could now understand why, seeing as the room seemed to be an extension of himself. The walls were littered with family photos, including some of my mom and I, and the shelves contained a combination of journals and old pack knick knacks. Just seeing the warmth of the atmosphere calmed me, bringing tears of remembrance to my eyes.
Bastion was equally as moved, and immediately crossed to scan the photographs more closely.
“Wow. It’s decorated just like our house was.” He mumbled, running his forefinger along the outer edges of the hickory picture frame.
“Woah, wait a second. What is this?” Jesse’s awed voice drew our attention away from the rustic décor, and lured us to the large desk that was still scattered with papers. One paper specifically, the one that Jesse was referencing, was an 8X10 piece of sketch paper, filled in with an intricate portrait of myself beside the two Kings. Each pencil stroke expertly captured the features of each of us, and I was blown away by the skill of the artist. Did James draw this? I never knew he was so talented. Upon closer inspection, the numbers on the lower corned dated it three years prior. That would make it two years prior to me even meeting my loves.
“Holy shit.” Bastion muttered, leaning forward to get a better view before glancing back to the desk at the dozens more illustrations. One caught his attention, and he picked it up with trembling hands. “Fuck.” I leaned forward to catch a glimpse over his shoulder, gasping in horror when I was faced with the detailed image of James’ death. Alpha Lawson’s claws were still sheathed in his chest and stomach, and blood was trickling from his mouth. It was the same sight that haunted me since the day it happened, and my tears flooded over onto Bastion’s forearm, wetting his tanned skin along with his own outpouring of grief.
Suddenly, the image disappeared from our view. Our eyes darted to Rory, who was tucking it into a manilla folder delicately.
“That isn’t something you two need to see.” He stated simply, softly, his gaze thick with pity.
I mentally thanked him, clearing my throat and latching onto Bastion’s sunken form. He pulled back enough to free his arm, but then proceeded to capture me in his shaky embrace, burying his nose into my hair as he regulated his breathing.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered into his shoulder. He shook his head, but said nothing, continuing to dig his fingers into my back, not in a way that hurt, but rather in a way that communicated the depths of his pain.
“Um, I gathered his journals and sketch book. If you guys need to step out, that’s fine.” Jesse offered in all sincerity. I blinked my tears away, pulling back to grant him an appreciative smile before turning to face Bastion. His nose was nearly touching mine, and I could feel his breath fanning my face.
“Why don’t we head out, Bas? We can go for a walk.” His lidded eyes were red and moist, but he nodded anyway, swiping at his nose with the back of his hand.
“Yea, sure. Just, uh… Give me a minute alone?” His pleading expression was enough for me to grant his request, and Jesse, Rory, and I stepped into the hall to give him some space. After giving Rory the go ahead to the chapel, I leaned back against the wall by the door, sliding down until my knees hit my chest. I could hear him inside, taking careful steps and collecting various items along the way, the subtle sound of clinking glass telling me that he was snatching picture frames from the walls. After about five minutes of rummaging, he opened the door.
“You didn’t have to wait for me, baby. I could’ve met you back at the room.” He said, almost apologetically. I offered him my warmest and gentlest smile.
“Did you get what you needed?” I asked, eyeing his armful of art and memories that he clutched tightly against his heart. He sighed, his mouth falling into a loving grin.
“Yea. Let’s stop by the nursery. We can take the bundles for a walk. I’m sure they’d like to say hi to their grandpa.”