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#Chapter 55: Betrayal
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I did not have time for this. I took the paper from my son’s hand and shredded it into a million pieces, watching it float to the ground. “No littering, mommy!” Theo reprimanded, echoing one of my lessons to him. “Who gave this to you, Theo?” I asked in a voice that suggested the seriousness of the situation, but in a way that wouldn’t scare him. He looked at the sky to contemplate for a second. “Uhh,” he said, shifting back and forth on his feet. “A worker?” “A servant?” I questioned, raising my eyebrows. “A man with a necktie?” “Yes!” he answered, proud of himself for remembering. “A man with a necktie. A servant.” He sounded out the word slowly. Aldrich and I always had the worst timing. I took his hand and brought him back inside, feeling like the weight that was lifted from my shoulders was back on. Now I had two stresses to worry about. My brain instantly scrambled over what I should do. I could not bother Aldrich
The Lycan King's Healer #Chapter 57: Delicate Danika’s Disappearance
Alan was out the door before I was. Even in his wheelchair, he was fast. The guards swiftly replaced the chair with crutches so that he could move on uneven terrain, and I followed him out the door.“Stay with the guards,” I commanded Theo. He nodded, his little face looking petrified, and I felt a stab of guilt that he had to experience all of this so frequently. We ventured out with a group of armed guards. All of the estate was now informed of the weird happenings after Alan’s supposed death. We did not tell them a healer brought him back, instead we claimed that he never died in the first place, and that he was broken, but his heart never stopped beating. Our entourage searched through the estate, one group looking through the building, and another surveying outside. Alan and I were the group outside, because that was the setting of a worst case scenario. What if she was shot by an arrow? What if whoever wrote that note was angry with me for ripping it up?
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Alan shot a glare at me before looking back at Danika. He spoke to her the most gently I’ve witnessed; I had never heard his voice lower to such a soft octave. “You’re in the infirmary, Danika,” he said soothingly, then cracked a humorous grin, “looks like the tables have turned.” “What?” she demanded before her gaze flickered around the room, at the white blanket cloaked around her, and then at our worried faces. Alan’s kindness must have been the most startling aspect of it all. “We…” I hesitated, then decided not to sugarcoat it. She could handle it. “We found you unconscious in the woods. You’re not hurt, but you were out of it.” I watched for her reaction, chewing my inner lip. “You said the last thing you were doing was talking to Clement?” Alan interrogated, staring at her like a concerned parent that was trying to learn all the details of their child’s accident. “Yes,” she said, looking at him with fogged over eyes, “I found him in the l
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Aldrich’s arm was hooked around me before I could breathe. He scooped me up like I was a child, gripping me to his chest as he ran for cover. I gasped as I looked around, trying to find the assailant or where the arrow even came from in the first place. About a couple yards away, there was a small shed that stored extra weapons and auxiliary. He sprinted toward it with me as his baggage, and I was shocked at the fact he was able to move so fast despite carrying me, like I weighed nothing more than a pound. He was even stronger than I thought. My gaze still shot around the field in a panic, but I did not see even a retreating silhouette. The shed was locked; he simply kicked the lock of the door broken with his brutal force before rushing us inside, swinging the door closed behind us. We were both breathing heavily, and he released me from his arms before pushing down on my back to make me huddle close to the ground. The only sound in the small, dark space was
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“Oh, my god,” I said, staring at the bow in horror. I recognized the arrow in the bow; it was grotesquely familiar, the arrow that had been haunting my life and my nightmares. He knelt down to examine the corpse of his victim. I dared to look too despite the ugly wound, grimacing. Even as a healer, I did not grow accustomed to the sight of blood. I stared at the man’s face in confusion, puzzled as to why I recognized his weapons but not his face. “I don’t know him,” I said in anger, “do you?” Aldrich shook his head. “I don’t, either.” “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snapped, storming up to the body. I hated the man. I hated his unfamiliar unseeing eyes and his weathered, old face and his unrecognizable hair. How could I not recognize someone that was trying to kill me and everyone I loved the past few months? “This is fucking propoersterous,” I said as I grabbed the arrow from the bow and violently impaled him with it in the chest, crying out
The Lycan King's Healer #Chapter 62: A Different Kind of Note
Aldrich immediately stiffened, shooting a glare at the woman. But I recognized the voice. The woman with eyebags dark as her hair looked down at me, her two children hugging her legs. They looked almost unrecognizable, their cheeks flushed with lively color and their eyes no longer hooded and unmoving. Their scabs were nearly fully healed, faded all the way to a pale and unnoticeable pink. The woman’s were healed as well, and when I saw her smile, it was like seeing the planet rear upside down in the best way. “And I know you,” I answered with a grin. Aldrich shot a confused look at me, his glare dissolving. “You saved my children and I,” the woman commended, holding a small wicker basket of goods. She looked down at it before offering it to me. “I told you I would never forget your kindness.” “Please don’t,” I waved the basket away, shaking my head, “We have enough goods at the palace, and you need it more than me.” The woman still held the bas
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We woke up the next morning at the brink of dawn. I could no longer await to see what the salve had done to the wound. When I rubbed it on last night, it applied very thinly despite the thick look of the ointment. Clement did not leave instructions on how often to apply, but I assumed once would be enough. I had a servant go down to the library and await Clement’s arrival so that I could confirm instructions, but the servant did not return until hours later in the early afternoon. Aldrich and I were still in bed when the servant announced that Clement never came back to the library. That was odd; however, I supposed he assumed his duties with me were over after he concocted the antidote on his own. The wound did not appear any better; in fact, it looked the same. I frowned, looking to him for any signs of pain or disappointment, but he grinned at me instead. “I feel a lot better than I have in awhile,” he said, then sat up abruptly. “I feel so g
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