My chin trembled, and I held back a flood of tears as the Elf King carried me from the rubble of the orchard. I didn’t have the strength to understand how or why, but I just stared wide eyed as my blood dripped down the Elf King’s arms and down his fine clothes. Scarlet jewels in the light of the silver moon.
I spasmed in pain and shock. The king strode through the wood easily, as if he hadn’t just been a wolf and fought off a raging shadow beast, then carried a trembling useless human who was bleeding all over him. As if the gardens around us weren’t shattered like a tossed salad.
The sounds of the night filled in the cracks of silence. I focused on the chirping crickets and bellowing frogs as I shook in tremors.
My vision swam as the Elf King bore me aloft. I looked through bleary eyes at the dark gardens surrounding me, but saw nothing familiar in the twisting shapes. My legs burned as though the creature’s claws had been dipped in fire. I closed my eyes and focused on the smooth fabric of the king’s shirt. The warmth of his chest bleeding into my shoulder, my side, my hip. I leaned into him, breathed in his crisp pine and sage scent. The ends of his light white hair tickled my cheek as a cool autumn breeze ruffled the torn skirt of my dinner dress.
Saphronia would not be pleased.
My chin trembled, and I couldn’t stop the shivers wracking my body. I was cold. So, so cold.
Cool air hit the right side of my body as the Elf King lowered me onto a soft surface. I reached out to him. “Don’t let g-go.” I croaked through desperate lips. Anxious for his warmth, for his safety.
The Elf King cursed under his breath, but said, voice like rolling thunder, “I’ll not leave you.”
He struck a match, and it was then that I saw through heavily lidded eyes that we were in my kitchen cottage. The king gathered some large logs and stacked them upon one another, attempting to light them on fire. He cursed again.
The sight of the king trying and failing at such a mundane task caused a giggle to escape through my chattering teeth. “Never lit a fire before, King?”
He continued to strike match after match. “Of course I have. These infernal things are broken.”
I tried to hide the smile that formed on my lips, not sure why the idea of the king never lighting a fire made me laugh. “Y-you need to light the kindling first.” I pointed to a bucket filled with small wood sticks and shavings. “Place that under your stack of logs.”
“I can light a fire, human.” The king growled and continued another moment lighting the logs in futility.
All humor was forgotten as the cold wracked my body. I grabbed my shoulders and shook in the cold, air puffing from my purple lips. The king shot one look at me through snow white lashes, then growled and grabbed a handful of kindling. In moments, the shavings went up in flames, heating the larger logs above them. It wouldn’t be long before the fire blazed in the hearth. I could already feel my bones warming by the small flame.
“You need a healer.” Elden stood by the growing blaze; the sharp planes of his face softened by the warm glow. His fine shirt was torn, and my red blood splotched it like a spotted leaf.
“I s-should be fine once I warm up.”
“It tore into your leg.” Elden’s face twisted with anger. “In my gardens. Right under my nose. It is growing bolder.”
“What was it?” I pulled my knees up to my chest, but hissed. My left leg pulsed and quaked, blood oozing from the wound.
Elden’s eyes flew wide, and in an instant, he was on his knees before me. He tore his shirt off in one swift movement and pressed it into the wound.
I bit my lip to stop the scream that clawed up my throat at the raw impact. “Ow!”
Elden pulled his head back in surprise, almost dropping the shirt. “We need to stop the bleeding,” He said low, almost as if in apology.
“I know, but did you have to press so hard?” I tried and failed not to stare at the strong sharp planes of the king’s sculpted chest.
Confusion mingled with bewilderment in his expression. “And how else am I to stop the bleeding?”
I crossed my arms across my chest. “Well, you didn’t have to tear off your shirt like that.”
A slight smile teased the corner of his full lips. “Does the sight of my chest make you feel uncomfortable, Little Baker?”
I hmphed, “There is nothing you could do that would make me feel uncomfortable. As I told you before, you can control everything in my life, but not how I feel.”
“How interesting.” The Elf King’s eyes sparkled in the warm glow of the fire. “And if I were to touch your cheek ever so gently, like this?”
My stomach dropped, all pain in my leg forgotten, as the king raised one hand from where it pressed into my leg and brought it up, ever so slowly to cup the side of my face. “I see a pink blush spreading across your cheeks.”
Sweet Christmas.
Heat, not only spread across my cheeks, but through my neck and down my chest. The king’s eyes did not leave mine. Swirling galaxies of golden crystal shards. Curse my stupid attraction to this hateful elf.
