The Elven King's Consort

Chapter 45: Lycan King

The light died, and I lost my footing, tripping over the many loose, large stones under our feet. Reaching for the ground, I fell on my knees, breaking the skin and scabbing my palms. Cesteil appeared before me, his body slowly forming until he looked down at me, shocked. Bending down, his breathing was rough and rigid while he held one of his shoulders in his hand. Multiple arrows stuck out from his back, and the blood-iron metallic smell rushed inside my nostrils. It made me thirst, but I forced the urge away. Pushing myself up, I walked around and began to pull one arrow out after the other; he winced in pain but remained quiet. My heart ached for him. He was so severely hurt just to allow us time to escape.

"Won't they know where we are now that we've used magic?" Theron's voice sounded, and I glanced up momentarily to see him and Nasryn standing next to Caelestis. He was frustrated and rested his hands above his hips, shaking his head while Nasryn watched us.

"Yes, that's why we need to keep going."

"But what about the people that escaped? Won't they be endangered now that we've come here?"

"It seems you've misunderstood, princess. We haven't gone to them. We are only a few miles from the Lycan Kingdom's border."

"What are we doing here?"

"To meet King Demetri."

The Lycan king? But why? I wanted to ask more, but Cesteil groaned below my arms. He needed help now more than ever, and the questions could wait. But when I looked down where I had taken two arrows out, the punctures were already healing and disappearing. I could feel my eyes widen. Gripping the used arrows in my hand, I tried to calm myself and not draw in attention. I won't say anything for now, but when we are alone, I won't let it slide.

Meticulously, I worked at taking the last five arrows out, all the while willing my heart to stop beating so violently.

"How did you manage to get so many arrows lodged into you, Cesteil?" I asked with a shaky breath. I hope he didn't catch on.

"The arrows on our side launched, but they had a set of their own, and when I made a run for it, I took the brunt of it."

The last one slipped out, the flesh hanging on and pulling at it, begging not to leave. Glancing down at the bloodied holes, his skin was smooth, aside from a few scars after they had healed. This must've been the fairies' magic at work. So why, if he can heal, does that mean it's only possible for that magic to work on himself and those who drank his blood? That made sense when he told me I could only drink from his blood and his alone.

Stepping aside, I tossed the arrows to the ground. The dried blood was now brown against the white and grey pebbles and stones littering the ground. He stood weakly, observing me for a moment.

"Well, we can talk later," I told him, becoming serious. It was as if he understood my words, for he only nodded cautiously.

"Let's head out before it gets too dark."

Cestiel walked ahead and engaged in a heavy conversation with Theron. I walked behind the four, watching their backs. I seemed out of place and so small compared to all of them. There were so many things Cesteil kept from me, and I couldn't help but feel betrayed and hurt. On the one hand, I understand that I had trusted too quickly, thus endangering ourselves, and many times, both of us became injured. But on the other hand, he knew everything about me, staying in the shadows for eight years, watching my every move.

It wasn't fair that I had to keep finding out things like this. Why didn't he tell me he could heal himself and that sharing his blood was healing me? I stopped walking, glaring at him. I wanted him to stop hiding everything from me.