Kevin’s POV
The men gathered and waited, looking at me with impatience and expectation and they fixed their eyes on me and the list in my hand.
I had just finished telling them of the plan to erase the slave mark on Ella’s wrist, leaving out the details of the horrible nightmares she had been having. It was getting worse and I couldn’t afford to wait for another day before moving ahead on this journey.
The nightmare she had yesterday night scared the senses out of me that I was ready to burst into the jungle at midnight if she hadn’t wrapped her hands around my waist and sobbed that she was okay till I was finally able to calm down.
It seemed like my men were eager to go on the journey too with the anticipation bubbling in the atmosphere. They were willing to make the sacrifice, I had told them of the dangers that we might have to face, to get Ella free from the shackles of her slavery I was touched by their loyalty and also felt guilty that I wasn’t totally open with them about why they were going.
“Only five of us would be going on the journey and the rest of you would be staying here with the people of this land till we back. Ella, Liam and I would be going as expected. Andre and Damien would join us on this journey too.”
Andre and Damien went down on their knees, each bending on one knee and placing their folded hand on the other which was raised above the ground, and bowed. “Your wish is our command, my lord.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at them. “You may rise.”
We packed as lightly as we could, taking only the essentials with us. We didn’t know how long we might be in there but I hoped that we come back as fast as we could. The old man had said that the jungle was dark, dangerous and difficult.
I hoped that we wouldn’t have to stay there for too long. I wanted to be back on time to join the rest of the group and go home. The jungle wasn’t going to be dark for us like it had been for the old man. We were werewolves and had supernatural sight and hearing. We were stronger than he was and the creatures in the jungle that had given him the trauma and scars he had wouldn’t affect us.
I was wrong. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I sighed as I realized my arrogance minutes after stepping into the jungle and was grateful I listened to Ella when she had insisted on us bringing some torches with us even if we didn’t need them.
The jungle was thick, dense and so dark I could barely see anything. We had to pull clogged branches apart to make a path for ourselves and be able to walk. Some of the branches were so low with thorny leaves jutting out of there that we had to bend low as we walked to avoid getting our eyes injured.
I had thought that we would be able to walk stealthily to avoid rousing the attention of the creatures who were in there but that was proving hard to do.
All the leaves were dry and cracked as we walked, making a jarring sound to my ears. I could swear that all beings with ears in the jungle and its surroundings could hear us.
I growled as a branch nicked me in the cheek, drawing blood and cursed as I flicked it off. It was going to be hard to walk through this place if everywhere was like this.
The only good thing here was that the leaves were clogged up we wouldn’t feel if it it rained. There was no way the water would drip dry. I bet that they get dried up by the sun afterwards as they float on the leaves.
It was no wonder everywhere was dark that the sun couldn’t get in and the leaves were dry. I could barely see Ella’s hair even though it was silver and I had heightened sense of sight.
We wouldn’t be able to get any rest here if everywhere was like this. I didn’t want to imagine sleeping on dried heap of leaves. That would be uncomfortable, not to talk of the insects that might be crawling under the leaves below the ground.
They definitely wouldn’t be normal and have gnawing and biting teeth. I pictured the pain the old man had gone through to get the slave mark off and my respect for him quadrupled. I understood why the others didn’t want to go through the journey and preferred to deal with the nightmares for months and respected them for that as well.
They were all strong in their own right, the way they chose to overcome their fears.
It would have been better if someone could take the leaves out of the jungle and I would have offered to do that for the villagers to clean their marks but the leaves of the Arok tree couldn’t be taken far from it. They would wither and stink, becoming of no use to the person.
I shook my head at the wickedness of the person who had made the potion of the slave mark ink. They picked the right ingredients for their purpose.