Forbidden Enchantment

Chapter 15

"Blake!" Alara screamed, her voice cracking as she ran back to him. Her heart pounded in her chest, a thousand questions shooting through her mind. Was it his arm injury? Had he expended too much energy during training? Should she not have pushed him so hard? Panic gripped her as she reached his side, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Blake forced himself to stand, his arm hanging limply at his side, the pain overwhelming. "It's nothing, really," he murmured, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and trickling down his temples. "I'm just a bit exhausted." His voice was weak, every breath an effort, each inhalation like a dagger to his lungs.

Alara's eyes blazed with a mix of fear and frustration. "Nothing? Blake, you just collapsed! That's not nothing! This isn't just exhaustion! Your arm... you can barely move it." Her anger, fueled by worry, overshadowed all else. She had hoped he would trust her, confide in her. Disappointment gnawed at her insides. How could he hide this from her, after everything they had been through together?

Blake avoided her piercing gaze. "I didn't want to worry you. We have enough other problems." His voice was barely more than a whisper. "One of those creatures got me on the arm. I thought it would go away." He meant it. He didn't want to burden her with more than he already did. Guilt twisted in his gut like a knife. He felt responsible for their plight, and punishment seemed only fitting.

"Worry? You hid the extent of your injury from me!" Alara's voice grew louder, more desperate. Tears formed in her eyes as she yelled at him. "How could you hide this from me? I thought we were a team. I thought we'd get through this together!"

Blake could feel the anger and pain in her words. "I didn't want to make you worry more, to burden you even more," Blake said quietly. "I thought I could handle it."

"You didn't protect me by keeping me in the dark; you made it worse!" Alara's voice trembled as she fought to keep her anger in check. "We're supposed to be a team. How can we face anything if you won't let me in? Now look at you—seriously injured, and I was blind to it all."

Blake bowed his head, the weight of shame and guilt pressing down on him like a physical burden. "I'm sorry, Alara. I thought I could get through this alone," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of the rustling grass.

Alara took a step toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. "You don't have to go through this alone. We're a team, Blake. You and I, against everything and everyone. Don't you understand that?" Her voice softened, but the intensity of her gaze did not waver.

Blake finally looked at her, and in her eyes, he read not just anger but also deep affection and concern. "I understand," he finally whispered. "I understand, and I'm sorry." He knew he had made a mistake, but he only wanted to protect Alara. Now he understood that he had only made everything worse. He looked into her eyes. "I promise to tell you everything in the future. No more secrets."

Alara smiled weakly and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Good. Now let me see how bad it really is." It wouldn't help them to be angry at each other now. She had to rise above her frustration and anger to help him. He needed to get better, and she had to ensure it.

Blake cautiously extended his arm to her. Alara examined the wound and frowned. She tried to hide the shock she felt at the sight of his arm. "This looks really bad. We need to treat it before it gets worse," she said. The wound was inflamed, with red, blue, and black streaks spreading out from it in all directions. It had to be an infection. She was sure of it. "Wait here; I'll be right back." She stood up and disappeared before he could respond.

Alara ran through the field, her thoughts swirling. She knew she couldn't leave Blake alone for too long, but she needed time to sort out her feelings. Her concern for Blake grew, and she knew she had to do something to help him. She knew he was in pain, but she could never have imagined the extent of the injury.