Page 14 of Bought By the Manticore

Good.

My mate’s flesh and blood were a feast, but not one a disease was meant to devour.

I stopped growing and forced my form to dissolve into a thread of death energy. Slowly and carefully, I pierced Ianthe’s flesh. Once inside, I followed the intruder’s presence.

Almost instantly, the disease felt me and recoiled. It tried to retreat, to bury itself the way it had from the snake-woman’s healing. But I was a hunter. I was more perceptive. It couldn’t escape me.

I sank my fangs into the escaping disease and fed. The thorns withered away in my grip, their parasitic life force unable to withstand the potent death energy.

But they fought me. It was in their essence to strive for survival. And in her sleep, Ianthe jerked, her body reacting to the struggle within. “Hurts,” she mumbled under her breath. “Please… I need…”

Maybe she knew I was there, and she was talking to me. Or maybe she was praying to whatever deity the people of Korinos worshipped. Either way, the mere idea of her enduring such agony tore at my fraying control.

My naturally fractured consciousness proved to be a grim utility. Cramming my sense of self into the sole petal Aion had carried here had been a painful struggle, but it was also a vulnerability I could use.

Even as I devoured the Thorn-Sickness, I continued to feed on the death crystals in the floor. I grew and grew, until another vine stretched across the mattress to join the first.

Ianthe threw off the covers and spread her legs, unknowingly opening herself to me. She looked divine, and the part of me that was pure predator roared,“Claim her!”

But my mate was asleep, and I’d never take advantage of her unconscious state. Instead, I slithered underneath her sleep garb and curled around her body.

In the dark, my smooth vine-like shape engulfed Ianthe in a cocoon of pulsing greenery. I willed her to feel me, to understand, to know that she wasn’t alone.

Maybe she did, because her body slowly began to relax once again. Deep inside her, the Thorn-Sickness was already losing the battle. Ianthe sank into me, surrendering to the comfort I provided.

And I knew with absolute certainty that I’d never leave her. No matter what I had to do.

The next morning

“It appears you’re much improved, Ianthe. Congratulations. This is excellent news.”

Iaso bent close, her snakes curiously testing the air around me. I reached out and petted one of their heads, smiling. “It’s all because of your efforts, Healer Iaso. I’ve never felt better.”

It was true. Even in the village, before the sickness, there had been injuries. Fatigue. The regular life of a human who toiled in the fields of Korinos. But this morning, I felt rejuvenated, as if I’d been reborn.

Iaso pursed her lips, and for some reason, she didn’t seem completely convinced. “Assuming that’s true, you’ll probably have to enter the bride market again soon. And I’m hesitant to expose you to the suitors’ enthusiasm without being absolutely certain. I’ve been thinking… Would you consider seeing a specialist?”

“A specialist?” I repeated. I had no idea what to make of that. As far as I knew, Iaso was the best healer Asphodelia had to offer. “Of course, I’m open to whatever you suggest.”

“Very well. Just… keep an open mind. This type of experience can be a little odd for humans.”

That didn’t sound reassuring, but the idea of collapsing in the Agora of Echoes was even worse. “I can accept odd,” I replied. “You’ve been so helpful so far. I trust you, Healer Iaso.”

I wasn’t sure whether that was true or not. But if Iaso realized that, she didn’t show it. “Excellent. Come. I took the liberty of speaking to the specialist ahead of time. He knows we might be coming.”

Iaso helped me get out of bed and change out of my sleepwear. As I slipped on a fresh dress, I caught a flash of white out of the corner of my eye.

It was an asphodel, and it was reaching for me from beneath my bed.

There was something sweet, almost tentative, about the shy motion. It reminded me of the flowers that had guided me from the Blighted Lands and of the petal that had fallen from Aion’s hair.

My first instinct was to pluck the flower. Maybe I could take it with me, to wherever I needed to go with Iaso.

But then I remembered what had happened the day before. The harvesters—Aion included—had been slowly destroying the flowers.

If I said anything about the flower to Iaso, she’d most likely order its removal. She hadn’t spotted the bloom yet, and it hadn’t harmed me. This could be my secret, then.

Decision made, I turned away from the bed and looked straight at Iaso. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”