Chapter 44 The Bond

Chapter 44 The Bond
Rosalie opens her eyes on the second night.
I've barely left her side since Thad carried her into the infirmary. The healer, a stern-faced vampire named Petra, extracted the silver from her bloodstream and stitched up the wound, but she warned us that recovery would be slow. Silver poisoning doesn't just damage the body. It damages something deeper, something that takes time to repair.
So I've been sitting here, holding Rosalie's hand, talking to her even when she couldn't hear me. Telling her about the weather outside, about the gossip I overheard from the guards, about anything and everything except the fear that's been gnawing at my insides since Jonathan's blade sliced through her arm.
When her eyes finally flutter open, I nearly knock over the chair in my rush to lean closer.
"Hey," I breathe. "Welcome back."
Rosalie blinks a few times, her gaze unfocused. Then she sees me, and a weak smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.
"You look terrible," she croaks.
I laugh, and the sound comes out half-sob. "You almost died, and that's the first thing you say to me?"
"Someone has to keep you humble." She tries to adjust her position in the bed and winces. "How long was I out?"
"Two nights. Petra said the silver got pretty deep before they managed to extract it. You scared the hell out of me."
"Awe. That means you care." She closes her eyes for a moment, and her face contorts as a wave of pain takes hold. When she opens them again, there's a new look on her face, as if she’s just remembered something horrific.
"Jonathan?" she asks.
"Dead. Thad killed him."
She exhales slowly and replies, "Good. That bastard deserved worse."
"He got what was coming to him." I reach over and brush a strand of copper hair away from her face. "You saved my life, you know. If you hadn't thrown yourself at him, I don't know what would have happened."
"Probably something dramatic. You seem like the type." She attempts another smile, but it quickly fades. "Thelma, I need to tell you something."
"You need to rest."
"I've been resting for two days. Indulge me." She pats the bed beside her, and I perch on the edge, careful not to jostle her injured arm. "I want to talk about the bond. About you and Thad."
I knit my brows together. "What about it?"
"I know what it's like to have a fated mate. To feel that connection running through you like a second heartbeat."
I stare at her. "You had a mate?"
"His name was Edmund. We found each other about eighty years ago, during the war." A distant look crosses her face. "He was a soldier. Human, at first. I turned him after he was wounded in an ambush. We had forty years together before..."
She trails off, and I don't push. The pain in her eyes tells me everything I need to know.
"Hunters. A group of them tracked us to our safe house in Prague. Edmund held them off while I escaped. By the time I came back with reinforcements, he was already gone. They'd staked him and left his body in the courtyard for me to find."
I reach for her hand again. "I'm so sorry, Rosalie."
"It was a long time ago," she replies with a shrug. "The bond doesn't care about time, though. It doesn't fade or weaken or let you forget. Every day, I wake up and feel the empty space where he used to be. Like a phantom limb that never stops aching."
I don't know what to say. The idea of losing Thad, of feeling that emptiness for the rest of eternity, makes my chest constrict.
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask.
"Because I see the way you fight it. The bond, I mean. You push back against it. You question it. You treat it like a cage instead of a gift."
"It wasn't my choice."
"No. It wasn't. But it's still real." She reaches up and cups my cheek with her uninjured hand. "Thelma, I would give anything to have Edmund back. Anything. And here you are, with a mate who adores you, who would tear the world apart to keep you safe, and you're so busy being angry about how it happened that you're missing what's right in front of you."
"It's complicated, Rosalie."
"No, it's really not. It's actually very simple. You have something precious. Something rare. Don't waste it because you're too stubborn to accept that fate might have gotten this one right."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I don't know how to just accept it. Everything about my life has been turned upside down. I didn't ask for any of this."
"None of us asked for this life, human or vampire, but we live it anyway." Rosalie releases my face and settles back against the pillows. "I'm not saying you have to forgive Thad for keeping secrets. I'm not saying you have to pretend everything is perfect. But don't let your pride rob you of the chance to be happy."
"Is that what you think I'm doing? Being prideful?"
"I think you're scared. And I think that's okay. But fear is a terrible reason to throw away something beautiful."
I sit with her words for a long moment. She's not wrong. I have been fighting the bond, treating it like something that was done to me rather than something that simply is. And maybe that's been unfair. To Thad. To myself. To whatever cosmic force decided we belonged together.
"Petra says you'll need weeks to fully recover," I tell her, changing the subject because I'm not ready to think any more on everything she's said.
"Weeks of lying in bed while everyone else has all the fun?" Rosalie groans. "Kill me now."
"Don't joke about that."
"Too soon?"
"Way too soon." I stand and adjust her blankets, tucking them around her like she's a child. "Get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."
She catches my wrist before I can pull away. "Think about what I said, Thelma. Please."
I look down at her pale face, at the dark circles under her eyes, at the bandage wrapped around her arm. She almost died trying to protect me. The least I can do is take her advice seriously.