Chapter 89: Bloodlines

Aurora lay still in the infirmary tent, the healer's hands glowing a soft, pulsating green over her chest.

Beside her sat Phineus, unmoving, clutching her hand tightly.

His jaw was tight. His eyes burned.

The last two weeks had been hell.

The camp still whispered about it; the confrontation, the reveal, the fury.

Alejandro Roberto, infamous rake, fallen pirate lord, and absurdly wealthy bastard, had returned. And not just as a relic of the past.

No: as the secret father of both Seamus and Phineus Matteo.

It had been almost legendary.

Phineus had punched Alejandro square in the jaw within seconds of the man's introduction.

The blow sent the older man stumbling.

Four people had to hold Phineus back as he threw punch after punch, snarling with righteous rage.

Alejandro had laughed the whole time.

Aurora had awakened mid-brawl, her heart thundering.

The moment she saw him, that brooch, the Bluehawk sigil, her rage ignited.

This time, no one held her back.

She stormed the crowd, fists flying, teeth bared. Phineus barely got out of the way.

Alejandro didn't lift a hand to defend himself. He just stood there, grinning wide, bleeding with each blow.

I missed her touch, he thought darkly as he took another blow to the jaw.

She hit him again and again until he dropped, unconscious, blood pouring from a ruined nose and bruised eye. He hit the dirt with a thud. Unmoving.

Aurora spat beside his head and turned back toward her tent.

"You always show up too late and not needed anymore."

She made it three steps before she collapsed.

It had been two weeks since that night.

Her heart had grown weaker. The healers could only slow the damage now. Every day she came for treatments just so she could continue her duties. She refused to stay abed.

The camp leaders issued a decree: Alejandro was to steer clear of the people's heroes.

There were no formal trials. Just a steep fine. And the collective understanding that both mother and son were justified.

Now, Phineus sat beside her, brushing his thumb over her fingers. Her lips turned up, just faintly, into a smile.

Then, a sound.

Footsteps. Gasps. A messenger, panting hard, skidding to a stop at the infirmary entrance.

"They're here!" the messenger wheezed, eyes bright. "La Doña Guabancex y El Léon Negro!"

"They live!"

Aurora's eyes snapped open. She turned to Phineus.

Joy bloomed between them for the first time in months.