<i>Zephyrine </i>
36%
Finished
I have fallen. Something a warrior, retired or not, should never do. I feel so… so weak, as though my wolf is struggling for her life.<fn4e3f> For original chapters go to fin?novel</fn4e3f>
Lying in bed, I stared at his broad back. Lycannar stood by the window, arms folded across his chest, gazing out. He hadn’t spoken since he helped me onto the bed.
Nyroth lingered as well, worry etched deep into his face, though I couldn’t bring myself to care about him right now.
I blinked softly as the sound of a carriage stopping reached my ears. Secondster, the bedroom door opened and Princess Mearez stepped inside, her expression etched with concern. Somehow, seeing her put me at ease. I had witnessed her skills before, and I trusted her.
“My gods… Zephyrine,” she breathed, rushing to my side and taking my hand. “I came as soon as my brother summoned me. How are you feeling?<b>” </b>
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. The illness had started after the duel, and I had underestimated it.
Who would have thought it could grow so severe?
Princess Mearez went to work immediately. She held my hand gently, closed her eyes for a brief moment, then studied my wrist. Her brows furrowed sharply.
“I need my medical kit,” she said quietly. Blue, standing nearby, nodded.
“I will fetch it from the carriage, My Princess.”
She returned swiftly, carrying a small satchel that held an assortment of delicate tools and needles. She carefully selected the tiniest one and sighed.
“It will sting, Zephyrine. Do you want my brother to stay?” she asked softly. My gaze instinctively shifted to Lycannar. He was still staring out the window, as though he couldn’t bear to see me like this.
“I’m fine,” I murmured. A needle’s sting could not harm me more than the sword that had pierced me and failed to kill.
Princess Mearez pricked my wrist expertly. Blood trickled out, and she froze, staring at it for a heartbeat too long. Then her eyes went wide with rm.
“You’re poisoned,” she announced, ncing at Lycannar. “And… it’s contagious.”
A cold wave ran through me. Poisoned? Contagious?
“Everyone should leave the bedchamber,” Princess Mearez ordered but no one moved, not even Nyroth, whose concern only deepened.
“How is she poisoned?” Nyroth asked cautiously, but before Princess Mearez could answer, Lycannar finally turned. His pale–gold eyes locked on my face, jaw set tight.
R
36%.
Finished
“Cure her,” he said simply.
His sister obeyed immediately, taking my hand once more. For a fleeting moment, her warmth seeped into me, then she pulled back, eyes wide in horror.
She pricked my wrist again. Blood flowed freely, then healed under her careful touch. Slowly, she lowered the needle and looked at me gravely.
“How long have you felt unwell? You must have noticed something earlier,” she asked.
I could not respond. My heart raced with fear.
Poison? But who would dare? I cannot die, not yet. The Ashmere legacy rests on my shoulders.
“Immediately after the duel,” Dessyn replied, and Blue nodded in agreement.
“I told mydy toe to you, Princess Mearez, but she refused. Will she be okay?”
“There is a cure,” Mearez began in a low voice, “but it requires a rare flower… located at the Empire’s End
Grove.”
Cold dread settled over me. The Empire’s Grove. A ce of no return. Whoever poisoned me knew where the cure is and made certain I would not reach it.
“Let’s go have a conversation everyone, in the living room.” Princess Mearez says and then walk out but no one follows immediately.
“Zeph?” Nyroth’s voice came hesitantly atst as he approached.
“Go away,” I muttered. “I don’t want to infect you.”
His frown deepened, and he retreated.
ay deep th
dretre can roach
Everyone follow through, leaving Lycannar alone at the window. I watched him, unblinking, as silence settled.
Finally, he moved from the window and approached the bed. His hand reached for my arm, aiming to help me lie down, but I pushed him away.
“Let me go,” I muttered harshly.
He tried again, but I wriggled free.
“Don’t touch me!” I snapped.
“Stay still,” he said softly. My struggle only grew, and then he snapped once, firmly but not cruelly. “Stay
still!<b>” </b>
It was the first time I had heard that tone from him, and I obeyed immediately.
He ignored the danger, lying me down gently, positioning my head carefully on the pillow and tucking the nket over me. Every movement, every tender touch left me breathless.
He said nothing, offered nofort beyond his careful hands, and then quietly walked out, leaving me in
22:22 Fri, Sep 5 <b>R </b>
the warmth of his care and the ache of his silence.
<b>Send </b><b>Gifts </b>
2.3K
??
$ 36%