Wed to the Wild God (Aspect and Anchor)

With that, he leaves the room, abandoning me.

I make a wordless sound, still beyond stunned at what just happened.

Seth killed me. Or tried to, except I didn't die. All because he wants Kassam back at his full powers, and he figures I won't be missed. I'm just the mortal part of the equation. The expendable part. And I have no idea how to stop a mortal wound from bleeding, or even what I do now that I'm…what, a zombie?

I don't know what I am. I put a finger to my wrist, feeling for my pulse, but it's not there. I feel at my neck for the same, too, and I can't find anything. Doesn't mean shit, I remind myself. You're not a nurse. You probably couldn't find it anyhow. There's too much blood everywhere, maybe. Gingerly, I get to my feet and find a fresh towel to push against the wound on my chest, and then wince at the sight of my gore-covered skin in the mirror. I pour a bit of water into the washbasin, my hands trembling, and I try to scrub at my face with one hand, the other holding the towel to my wound.

What happens when I run out of blood? Can my wound get infected? What happens to me if Lachesis changes her mind and just yanks my thread after all? I'm shaking as I wipe at my hands, feeling very alone and terrified. Kassam said he wanted to ask the Fates to keep me at his side—does this change things if I'm the walking dead? But…maybe I'm not dead. Maybe he missed my heart and I'm fine. I glance down at the bright red water basin in front of me and then back at the bed.

No way. There's far too much blood. No one can live after losing that much blood.

Numb, I clutch the towel to my chest and move to the bed once more. It's a mess, so I sink into one of the chairs nearby, dazed. My head gets foggy—probably blood loss—and I lose track of how long I sit in the chair. I try to think things through. Kassam—how is he going to take this? Is he going to be mad that he was betrayed? Is Seth right that we still need him to go forward? I worry that he's right. I don't know Riekki or anything about her except what Kassam has told me, but if she was strong enough to imprison him for a thousand years, how strong is she now that she's had that millennium to get even stronger?

And what happens to me now? Is my body going to rot and I'm stuck in it? I'm horrified at the thought, but I don't know what to do. Lachesis promised Kassam she wouldn't touch me, and I don't think we thought that promise through. Seth certainly didn't.

The door to our suite opens and Kassam enters in a flourish, holding a bottle of wine. "Little light! I brought you a present—"

I watch him as he chokes on the words, as his gaze slides from the bloody bed to where I sit on the chair a few paces away, equally bloody towel clutched to my chest.

"No," he breathes, tossing aside the wine. It falls to the floor with a crash, spilling its contents on the stone. Kassam doesn't even look. He drops to his knees at my side, horror in his gaze. Gently, he touches my cheek even as his gaze moves over my body. "No, no. Carly, my light. Don't leave me."

"I…don't think I can," I manage, and a watery, horrible giggle escapes me.

With delicate fingers, he peels the towel from my chest and makes a ragged sound of agony at the sight of the wound between my breasts. "Who did this to you."

I think about Seth's words. About how Kassam needs him if he wants his vengeance, if he wants to be free of Riekki. I clutch at his hand. "I don't think I can die, Kassam. I…I should be dead but I'm not. I think Lachesis won't pull my thread." I squeeze his hand, my body still feeling curiously floaty. "What happens if she doesn't pull my thread?"

"I do not know, my heart. The thread is pulled by the Fates, but it is Death who receives the spirit. I do not know what happens when one conflicts with another." The look he gives me is anguished. "Are you…in pain?"

I shake my head. "I feel strange," I whisper. "But it doesn't hurt."

"What can I do?" He takes my hand and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my palm. "How can I help?"

I lick my dry lips, and my entire mouth feels like a desert, actually. "Can you help me wash the blood off?"

He gazes down at me, and Kassam suddenly looks furious as he scoops me into his arms and carries me across the room. "I am going to clean you," he states in an icy voice. "And I am going to take care of you. I will never leave your side again. It is my fault this happened. I should have known someone would try to take you from me. I should have known that they would grow jealous of my anchor and seek to return me to the heavens. They think they are helping, but you are my wife." His voice grows more ragged by the moment. "It destroys me to think of you being hurt."