Alchemised

by SenLinYu

“The price keeps getting higher,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I can keep paying it.” He stilled. “I suppose even martyrs have limits.”

That bitterness in his eyes—she finally understood it. He had been waiting for her betrayal.

It was not a slow, sweet kiss. It was not a kiss caused by alcohol or insecurity. It was born of rage, despair, and desire so hot, it threatened to burn her into oblivion. It was possibly a kiss goodbye. She wanted him to know. It was real. For her, it had always been real.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her savagely. The heat was like wildfire.

But his eyes… She could tell— He was hers. The realisation broke her heart.

The only thing she could think of was how relieved she was that it was over before anything else had happened. Even whores were not so low as to find pleasure in their work the way she nearly had.

He sneered. “As if I would betray the High Necromancer for you. I knew they’d send you with instructions to try to play up the obsession I was supposed to have—to ensure I wouldn’t get bored or change my mind—but I wasn’t worried. You were no one, just an awkward shadow behind Holdfast, following him like a dog. I thought it would be funny, watching you try.”

His breathing grew ragged and uneven. “You sold yourself to save the person you care about. Well, so did I. What was I supposed to do, fail to kill Principate Apollo knowing I wouldn’t be the one who’d suffer for it? This”—he gestured towards himself—“this was how I proved I’d be loyal, how I got him t—” His breath caught. “—to stop hurting her.”

His voice broke and he slid down the wall, shuddering as if he were about to split open. When he spoke again, his voice had deadened.

She placed a tentative hand on his arm, half expecting him to fling her across the room, but his shoulders trembled and he dropped his head onto her shoulder. She pulled him into her arms; he gripped her close and sobbed.

For the first time, Kaine Ferron was fully human to her. She’d slipped through his walls and peeled away the defensive layers of malice and cruelty, and found that there he carried a broken heart. She could use that.

A tremor ran through Helena. “No. I—I just—” Her throat closed. She leaned forward, gripping his shirt, wanting to shake him. She hated the way he’d switch, one moment vulnerable and the next so bitterly cruel.

“I don’t know,” she said with a short hysterical laugh. She pulled away. “Like you said, I’ve always been expendable, so maybe they’ll offer me to the next spy.”

“Is it—actual crawling? Or was there something more constructive Ilva had in mind?” Her throat closed. “I—I’d have to ask.” “Find out. I’ll do it.” He looked exhausted, but now there was an edge of something seething in him.

“Why are you offering?” Her voice rose, a note of hysteria in it. He looked up at her a moment. “I realised just now that I’d miscalculated something. It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d made you marketable.”

She’d planned to go to Headquarters and make her report without any explanations about exactly why or how, to be calm and assured, but Crowther had caught her before she was ready. Her jaw began trembling uncontrollably.

A lump rose in her throat. “Well, he saw through you both. I was the only fool in the end. But you got what you wanted. Lucky you, I guess.”

Crowther’s eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. “I’ve spent a year working on the logistics of replacing you…I must admit, you are the most exceptional asset the Eternal Flame possesses. And I am sorry for that.”

Helena looked between them and then turned reluctantly and went out to the landing. She only heard Crowther utter one word before the door sealed shut: “Beg.”

“Don’t—use my name. I hate the way it sounds on your tongue.” He ripped the envelope from her fingers and left.

She was a collar around Kaine’s neck, and her job now was to bear it.

“You want me to look at you?” His voice was light, almost cajoling, but there was fury beneath the surface. He leaned towards her. “Fine. I’m looking. I must say, it’s delightful, seeing all the guilt in your eyes.” He sneered, drawing back. “You know, I used to think the circumstances of my servitude to the High Necromancer as cruel an enslavement as anyone could conceive, but I must admit, it pales beside you.”

“After you nearly bled to death here, I thought, at least I can keep her alive. She deserves to have someone who cares enough to try to keep her alive. I thought eventually you’d give up. But you will do anything to save the people you feel responsible for. Of course you’d weaponise your guilt in order to use mine.” He gave a low bitter laugh. “I’m sure there’s something poetic in it all, but right now all I feel is a new set of manacles.” He let go and stepped away from her, heading for the door. “So forgive me if I dislike looking at you. I’m still adjusting to the ways these new ones chafe.”

Several necrothralls rushed towards Helena. There was no time to think. She moved on instinct, blocking, slicing, her dagger morphing to chase after crucial joints, while her other palm pressed flat and she jerked back, ripping their reanimation free.

After so many years of healing, necromancy was effortless. There was nothing to hurt. She simply told Soren’s body that it could not die. He would fight as he’d always fought. He would protect them, because he knew how to do that.

Helena’s legs thrashed, her broken hands scrabbling to push him away, the ruined bones grinding, but it was no use. She screamed and screamed but no one noticed, bashing her head against his chest until he gripped her by the throat with his free hand, his thumb shoving hard against her trachea until she stilled. Her lungs seized, spasming. “Yes, just like that,” he said with an approving groan. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die. You’ll still be alive when I hand you over. Bennet is going to love you.”

“Don’t—don’t touch it!” The words came out a strangled scream. She almost fell off the table, trying to get away. He snatched his hand back as she collapsed and lay there, drawing sharp laboured breaths as she tried to calm down, choking back panicked sobs. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could feel it in her temples. “He was going to—going to—” She tripped over her own tongue, trying to protectively cradle that side of her body. Keep it from being touched.

“You could be a healer,” she finally said as he removed the block on her nerves. She flexed her hand, opening and closing. It was still sore, and fragile as though hairline-fractured. “You have a natural talent for it.”

This concern, this obsession with her preservation, wasn’t about her at all. It was about his mother, Enid Ferron, and his failure to save her. To him, Helena was an opportunity to try to get it right. A consolation prize he didn’t even want but couldn’t bring himself to give up on.

“She’s dead,” he said. “You are not. My loyalty was to those least responsible for her suffering, but if the Eternal Flame has decided that you are an affordable casualty, I will not be noble or understanding. I can exact dual revenge. I will make them pay if they get you killed.”

He wouldn’t let go. He gripped her tighter. “You are not expendable. You don’t get to push everyone away so that they’ll feel comfortable using you and letting you die.”

“You are not replaceable,” he said, his hands trembling against her shoulders. “You are not required to make your death convenient. You are allowed to be important to people. The reason I’m here—the reason I’m doing any of this—is to keep you alive. To keep you safe. That was the deal.” He searched her face. “They didn’t tell you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, trying to savour it all. This one moment. She could have this. She’d earned it. Then, all too soon, she forced herself to step back, pulling away. “I have to take care of the others.”

“I know,” he said, but he didn’t leave, lingering until she looked up. His eyes shone in the dark, as if there were moonlight underground. He touched her cheek, tilting her face up and kissing her. “Use the ring, call me, if you ever need anything.”

“I don’t want to always be alone,” she said. It was easier to be honest in the dark. “I want to love someone without feeling like if they know, it’ll end up hurting them. People who love me always die. No matter what I do, it’s never enough to save them. I have to love everyone from a distance, and I’m so lonely.”

She looked back; Kaine was standing behind her. His black clothes were limned by the glowing firelight, adding a flush of gold and ember red to his almost monochrome appearance. He still had that otherworldly glow about him. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said.

“Then use me,” Kaine said. He was right next to her. He pulled her close and tried to kiss her.

He didn’t let go. “Helena…” She stilled at her name. “I’m alone, too,” he said. A lump rose in her throat, her heart pounding. “But I don’t want to hurt you, you don’t deserve—” He kissed her, swallowing her objections.

“This—is the way I wanted it to be,” she admitted. “With you. I wanted it to be like this with you.”

When he kissed her, it felt like the beginning of something that could be eternal.

Her voice failed. “I’m sorry.” His hand still entwined with hers tightened. “I’m so sorry. I ruined so much of this for you. This is how it’s supposed to be. Let me give this to you now.”

She gave a small smile, struggling to stay awake, afraid it might all fade away if she did. “I’ve always thought my eyes were my best feature.” “One of them,” he said quietly.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “This won’t complicate anything for you. You wanted someone to be with, and I was available. I know it didn’t mean anything.”

“You’re mine,” he said against her lips, his fingers sliding along her throat, tangling in her hair, holding her fast as he dragged her nearer.

He was exacting. Determined to prove to her that this was where she belonged, to ensure that she could never deny what he made her feel.

He pulled her close, crushing her to his chest. “You’re mine. You swore yourself to me. Now and after the war. I’m going to take care of you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You don’t have to be lonely. Because you’re mine.”

He released a long breath. “The first time you arrived on the Outpost. I could tell by the way you looked, you thought it really was forever.”

“When we rescued Luc, there was a lich. He told Sebastian that he was Atreus. He was guarding the door to the room Luc was in.” “No,” Kaine said, his voice shaking. “No. He died. If he were still alive, he would have come back. For my mother.” His pupils had shrunken into sharp points of black, the denial stark.

“Six years in a war hospital. How many people have you saved for them? I doubt you know. But was that enough for them? No. The moment there was another advantage to gain, they sold you for the ports. I’ve seen workhorses treated better; they would have turned you into glue once you weren’t good for anything else.” He sneered. “But I suppose that’s how it’s always been. It’s only the war stallions like the Bayards who are retired to the countryside.”

She stared out at the horizon, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know why I kept trying. You just had these moments when I could see how little of you was real. When you’d forget to pretend, you always seemed so lonely. And I was lonely, too.” She looked down at the scar in her palm. “I used to think that we were the reverse of each other. Now—” She looked at him and extended her hand. “—I can’t help feeling like we’re mostly the same.”