e l e v e n

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e l e v e n

The King awakens only a few hours later, well into the night.

He stirs, thick brows furrowing from being pulled away from the hinge of sleep. An incoherent sound falls from him, lips curving into a wide yawn. His head straightness, neck straining from having nodded off in an uncomfortable position. His back hurts too from having leaned against the couch, and his senses sway a little, before realisation dawns that he was still sitting on the library floor.

The lights were still on, but it's cold, the flames in the room having flickered out. His skin is cold with the brittle air, the dome above them scarred black.

He groans from his hindered sleep, before turning to what had woken him up in the first place.

The female no longer sleeps with her temple to his shoulder. She's curled into the carpeted floor, her form practically quivering and trembling violently. A breach of whimpers and soft cries come from her lips. She sobs into her hands, eyes still fiercely shut. He can hear her mumble, words incoherently and tripping over each other too much for him to make anything out.

He's stuck still, eyes watching and body unable to do anything. He wasn't a male that has had to comfort others often, and he doesn't know what to do.

She keeps to herself, thrashing and shaking completely contained. Even her cries, and sounds that elope from her mouth aren't that loud, and if Mekhi didn't have lycan hearing, it would've been amiss with the night. Her grip on the material of her clothes is tight, face contorted and eyes leaking wet tears continuously. Her breathing is slow, quiet, but hitched and broken.

It was as if she kept all of the events haunting her head to herself, keeping low and quiet. She keeps it well hidden, and contain, invisible to the normal eyes. It was as if her mind knew, or more like the wolf knew to keep it quiet in order to protect herself.

Mekhi frowns, heart thudding rapidly. He takes a shaky breath, scooping up the tiny female into his lap. She fit perfectly, his large arms around her.

Ember's body responds before her brain does, before she can even awaken from the nightmare. Her torso stretches, reaching up to his throat and resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her breaths are uneven, and broken, but once his fingers start running up and down her back gently, they soon begin to steady.

She's still shivering, her skin deathly cold. He rubs her bare arms, plucking the grey blanket on the sofa, and wrapping it around her.

"Sh. I've got you," it's an attempt to ease her, but another whimper breaks her throat, slender finger clutching the fabric of his tee, hard.

The nape of her neck is drenched in a cold sweat, so with a hand he pulls the curls up and away from her, over his shoulder. His touch is tender, an arm around her and another letting his fingers stroke her hair, curving down to her round jaw.

"Hey," running the rim of his nose down the soft skin of her throat, lowering to her collarbone. She doesn't wake yet, her body now having relaxed, but the tears still flowing. She's cold, and it worries him.

He growls in annoyance at himself.

He would never be able to gauge what goes through her head, not until he'd mark her. Unconsciously, his eyes fall to the place where his mark would be. It's still scarred and the skin is broken with having been burned off, once severing her bond with the beta. His thumb traces it, moving past and dipping down to the faint scars the beta had inflicted on her. He crosses her arms, fingers soothingly trailing, all the way down to the tips of her fingertips.

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