ELORA
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I did not stop clutching the sides of my dress. My heart flipped in my chest when Gael’s back crashed against the hard wall.
“Gael!” I heard myself scream.
What was happening?
When he cried out in pain, I clenched my fists, seething in mine.
He fell on to the floor, his face kissed the dust of the ground.
My fingers trembled by my sides.
It was only at that moment that I tilted my neck to look at his assailant.
The king hovered over his pitiful frame. He was taller and fiercer than I had ever seen him. The golden rays of the sun illuminated his eyes, causing them to sparkle with pure rage unlike any I had ever seen.
My heart shrank in my chest. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, my damp fingers could not release my dress.
The king picked Gael up with his head. I watched as he was lifted from the floor, his feet danced in the air while he fought to set himself free from the king’s grasp.
He could not outdo the king’s strength.
King Rome clasped a firm right hand around Gael’s throat. Gael’s eyes flew open in fear. He gripped the king’s wrist, struggling to set himself free. He punched the king’s hand, harder and harder, but king Rome didn’t budge. He didn’t bat a single lash!
His lips quivered in anger, and his nostrils twitched uncontrollably.
My heart jumped in horror when I caught sight of his claws. They shot out from his fingers and dug their way into the skin of Gael’s neck. Blood trickled down to his collar.
He was hurting him! Why couldn’t he see that he was hurting him?
“If you ever lay a hand on her again, if I should ever find you two hundred meters close to her shadow, or anything that belongs to her, I would tear you apart bit by bit, till nothing is left of you.” The king’s words echoed in my ears.
Cold shivers rushed down my spine. He had not been speaking to me, yet his words had found their way to settle at the pit of my stomach, and turn my legs to jelly.
I held myself to remain on my feet, even though my knees wanted to cave underneath my weight.
I was terrified. Gael was bleeding, yet the king paid his pain no mind.
Flashes of the night before flooded my mind. The king had held the woman who attacked me, in the same manner. His claws shot out of his fingernails, his eyes…they were darker than darkness itself. His snapped his neck to the sides, as though he was going to shift into his beast.
Everyone had feared he would tear the woman apart, that he would kill her, but he could not seem to stop himself.
And when we had sex, he had shifted into his beast, even after he had struggled hard to hold his beast back, it sprang to the surface.
What did this mean?
Did he have no control over his beast?
The king flung Gael to the ground again. This time, Gael landed on his back, and made no attempt to get up.
I saw guards rush towards us from every corner.
Confused, my eyes darted around the riverbank.
Had they been there all along?
Two guards picked Gael from the ground and carted him away. My mouth remained ajar, but my eyes moved from Gael’s battered body, to the king’s rock hard one moving towards me.
No. I found myself seeking a means of escape, any path to avoid being in his presence.
His domineering figure always clouded my sense of reasoning. He impaired my speech, and rendered every bone, muscle, and fiber of my being useless.
It was too late. I was not able to find an escape route before he mounted himself in front of me.
I dared to glance up at him, to stare into the deep sea of emotions that hid in his eyes.
“Your majesty, I…”
I was at a loss for words once he scooped me up from the ground, as though I weighed nothing.
He was doing it again. He was pulling me in, tugging at my heartstrings and leaving me to interpret all his actions…and mine.
The king pulled me closer to his chest, spooning me in his arms. My gaze met with his chiseled jaw. I glanced to his right shoulder blade.
I thought of reaching to him, to touch his bearded chin, and run my fingers down the skin of his neck. I hoisted my gaze to his lips.
Pale red and moist flesh which held a promise of pleasure…and pain.
I wished…I wished I could lean in and kiss him.
We were in the palace before I knew it. He kicked his room door open, and carried me into his abode.
The familiar scent of his cologne teased my nostrils. He laid me on his bed, and turned his back to me.
All the passion in his touch, yet he had not said a word to me.
I looked down at my legs. I had to stop myself from looking at him, one way or another.
What was I to make of his actions when he never said a word?
I risked a glance at him and found him searching through medical supplies.
A whitish liquid, a wad of white clean clothes, and a blade. He picked all three and threw them into a black box. He still wore a frown on his face, I could see it from the side.
His eyes casually danced to mine. I ripped my eyes away from him. My heart skipped three beats at once just knowing that he was looking at me.
He held the box in his hands and moved towards me. Carefully, he placed the box on his bed, and settled into a stool beside it.
I shivered when he reached for my right arm. He narrowed his eyes on my skin, while slowly twisting my arm, searching for any other bruises besides the little ones at the back.
I watched every move he made, searching his eyes for something, anything that could speak to me, an emotion to hold onto. Still, I found nothing.
He soaked a piece of wool with the whitish liquid, and reached for my hand.
“Your majesty,” I started to speak.
He must have been very annoyed with Gael. I needed to apologize on his behalf.
He did not look up at me.
“About Gael, you must know that it was completely out of character for him to…”
“Be quiet, Elora,” His chiseled jaw hardened.
My tongue froze in my mouth. His raised his eyes for look at me. In that very moment, he was the only thing I could see.
Nothing and no one else existed at the same time, and in the same space he did.
He dropped his eyes down to the bruise on my right arm.
“It’s going to hurt.” He continued.
And it did. My jaws grinded against each other, while I groaned in pain. It stung, a lot.
When I tried to pull away, his grip on my arm tightened.
“Hold still.”
I seized every movement. I saw him peer down at the bruise. He squinted his eyes, as though he had seen something that wasn’t supposed to be there.
“How long does it normally take for your injuries to heal, Elora?” He asked.
I was thoughtful for a few seconds.
“I’m not sure, your majesty. It never takes time anyway.”
He said nothing else. He cleaned my injury in my right arm. It was time for the left.
I had not expected him to, but he rose from the stool, and made his way to the bed. He sat in front of me and reached for my left arm.
I let him have it willingly.
The silence in the room was unnerving. I noticed how he frowned when he found a bigger wound. His stare intensified, the creases on his forehead stretched deeper.
“It was only an accident, your majesty. Gael. He must have been hurt, with everything that has happened. The slavery, becoming a guard, it must have been too much for him. Please, please pardon him.” I pleaded, sincerely.
He looked up at me. I could swear I saw his nostrils twitch once more.
“Why?” He breathed out.
I blinked rapidly.
Why what?
“Why do you trust him so much?”
Oh. I leaned back into the headboard.
“He is my friend.”
“Friend?” He corked his right brow at me, his eyes laced with query.
“You could have fooled me, Elora. He could have meant more to you, like your mate…in Alkarod.”
My eyes flew open in shock.
I had never mentioned that to the king, how could he have known?!
“What?” My jaw threatened to drop to the ground. He leered at me.
“You had a mate in Alkarod, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t lie. If he knew this much, he already knew the truth.
But, exactly how much of my past did he know?
“Yes, I…”
He raised his right hand to my face, demanding my silence. I pinned my lips shut, and swallowed hard.
He groaned and reached for more wool.
He was very tensed, but why?
Did he already know we were mates? Did it bother him that he was mated to someone like me?
That was the only reason he was taking care of me when he didn’t owe me anything, right?
Why else would he be doing this?
But if he didn’t know, how could I tell him? Was now a good time?
“Ouch!” I pulled my hand away from his grasp.
The liquid had stung even worse this time.
He had managed to place a white piece of cloth on it, yet it hurt.
He glared at me as I waved my arm in the air. I pulled my hand, and lowered my lips to the burning bruise. I tried to blow some air on it, hoping it’ll make it hurt less.
Suddenly, I felt someone’s hot breath fan the tip of my nose. I looked up to find the king’s face, inches away from mine.
He was blowing at my injury too.
Slowly, he raised his eyes to look at me.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
“Elora,” he breathed out.
“Your majesty,” I whimpered.
“You…”
“Hmmm?”
“I never want to see anyone else hold you the way he did.” He was staring into my eyes. My intestines twirled into a tight knot.
Why was he so close?
“I never…” his gaze dropped to my lips.
“For if I do, I might just have blood on my hands.”
Blood on his hands?
Before I could part my lips to speak, he cupped the back of my neck with his hand, and locked my lips with his.