He’d made a promise to her, and he was determined for it not to be the first one he ever broke.
With a loud thud, Monte burst through the cabin door.
The rain poured down his drenched fur, and thick mud clung to his hooves. He struggled for breath as he tumbled inside, clutching onto the brilliantvalmorabloom with one massive fist.
Miraculously, not a single petal was damaged or dirtied despite his chaotic entrance.
Relief washed over the minotaur in a palpable wave as he thrust the door shut on the raging tempest. Kiri’s trembling form lay huddled beneath a mound of comforters, light from the fireplace painting her flushed features in a feverish crimson glow.
“Monte?” Her voice, a mere whisper, pierced through the roaring of the storm.
“Back.” He crossed over to her side, long strides eating up the distance in a few heartbeats.
“I’ve found it,” he murmured, carefully cradling the rare flower in his callused hands. Its delicate blue and fuchsia petals seemed to shimmer as they caught the flickering firelight, casting an enchanting glow around him.
She let out a deep, exasperated sigh and tilted her head toward him, and yet her eyelids remained closed. A small smile played on her lips, but it was more pain than happy as no words left them.
Wasting no more time, Monte lumbered to the kitchen and grabbed what he needed to prepare the healing tea. He filled the battered kettle and set it over the crackling flames to boil.
He worked in reverent silence, his gaze locked on those luminous petals as he carefully crushed them. The scent that wafted up from them was both sweet and earthy, reminding him of warm summer days in the fields.
With practiced precision, Monte boiled the crushed petals into a potent tea.
As he stirred the concoction and added a pinch of herbs for additional healing properties, Kiri’s voice drifted over to him. “What are you doing?”
Monte glanced up at her, taking in how her pale and fragile form had worsened as she remained tucked in beneath the blankets. “Making your medicine.”
Kiri gave him a weak smile, her eyes still closed. “That smells good…”
Once the tea was done brewing, Monte poured it into a wooden cup and brought it over to Kiri.
He approached the bed, ears pinned in an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Kiri lay unnaturally still, her shallow breaths and flushed cheeks evidence of the fever’s chokehold. A wave of protectiveness swelled in his barrel chest as he drank in her fragile state.
Lowering himself with exaggerated care, he knelt beside the couch. Up close, he could make out the sheen of sweat along her brow, the flutter of eyelashes against her unnaturally pale skin. His thumb grazed her burning forehead, pushing back damp tendrils in a tender caress.
“Easy now,” he rumbled, voice a low rasp of gruff affection. “I’ve weathered the storm to get you this medical tea.”
With deft movements belying his massive frame, he slipped an arm beneath Kiri’s shoulders and lifted her into a cradled position. She was a delicate thing, almost weightless against the hard planes of his chest.
Carefully, he guided the mug’s rim to her cracked lips. “That’s it, brave one. Just take a few sips.”
As thevalmora'shealing tea touched her parched mouth, its earthy and flowery scent intensified, proof of it working itsmagic. A tremor cascaded through her slender form as the first few drops trickled down her throat with each ravenous gulp.
Despite this, Monte remained vigilant, ensuring that she could handle it without choking or burning herself in her eagerness.
Despite the discomfort, Kiri managed to drink the entire cup of tea. Monte set the mug aside and gently lowered her back onto the bed. He could feel her body relaxing and her breathing becoming more even.
“Rest now,” he whispered, brushing a stray hair away from her face. “You’re safe with me.”
Kiri’s eyes fluttered open, revealing the return of her vivid golden-green hue. She looked up at him with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. “Thank you,” she breathed out, as she smiled weakly and closed her eyes, already feeling the effects of the potent tea.
“I’ll be here,” Monte murmured. He shifted his hand from her hair to rest on her shoulder and gave it the gentlest squeeze he could sunder. “I’ll be here when you wake, little flower.”
Four
Kiri
Kiri’s eyes fluttered open, the melodic chirping of birds and warm rays of late morning sunlight streaming through the cabin windows gently rousing her from slumber. She blinked, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar rustic yet luxurious surroundings of the spacious, resort-like cabin. An ornately carved wooden chandelier dangled from the high wooden beams stretched overhead and plush furs adorned the oversized couch where she lay.
