Page 63 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

Bellamy appeared at my side in a burst of black smoke, shielding me from the raining gore that came from the beasts. His face was full of an anger that promised vengeance and haunted nightmares. This was The Elemental, the being that terrorized an entire realm and murdered without a second thought. Yet, I did not feel afraid, did not balk. Instead, there was comfort knowing he was now the scariest thing within the area.

My body slumped into his waiting arms, his warmth a welcoming feel. The scent of cinnamon and smoke was still there, though faint in comparison to the reek of the afriktors. Each rise and fall of his chest was soothing, the beat of his heart a melody.

Maybe it was because I was weak from the power drain, but I found myself snuggling into his chest, basking in the essence of him. When he wrapped his arms around me, squeezing with enough pressure to be more than simply holding me upright, I thought I might have felt a sigh of relief. Not from his mouth, but from his mind.

“For a moment there, I thought I lost you,” he said into my hair as he stroked it. I sensed the others coming our way, but my eyes refused to open. Bellamy tensed when their footsteps sounded, his anger returning in full force.

I felt a kiss placed on my forehead, and my eyes finally snapped open. The six of them stood in front of us, bloody and torn. Cyprus had a slight limp, Winona was bleeding from the eyebrow, Henry had three slashes across his thigh that revealed a deep wound, Ranbir looked as if he might be sick, and Noe seemed to have been hit rather hard in the nose, as it was sideways and sort of…hanging.

Lian had made it mostly unscathed.

I stumbled away from Bellamy, pushing off of him to assess his injuries. His dark hair was matted with blood, his hands as red as wine. In fact, the majority of his body was covered in the filthy blood of the afriktors. Otherwise, he was unharmed.

The prince stepped forward, his glare sharper than the talons that tore through me mere minutes ago. He pointed his finger at each of his Trusted, not one of them resisting the urge to flinch under his gaze. Even Henry seemed to cower somewhat.

“I told you all to keep Asher safe,” he accused, his voice deeper than I had ever heard it. I opened my mouth to argue, to say that I was not weak, to stand up for them. But a quick shake of the head from Henry told me that it was not my place. “Only one of you bothered to find her, and by then she was already mangled!” he said, screaming the last word.

As subtly as I could, I dared a glance at my shoulders. A mess, that was the only way of describing the pile of fat, tissue, tendons, and torn skin that I saw covered in blood under what remained of my top. My stomach flipped, but as the adrenaline was quickly replaced with exhaustion, I had little chance to dwell on the pain.

“I am deeply remorseful, My Prince. I vow to protect the Princess with my life,” Henry said dropping to one knee. At once, the others followed suit, dropping to the ground and vowing their lives to my safety. As one the group unsheathed small daggers, bringing the blades to their palms and making quick slashes. They bowed their heads, lifting their hands towards Bellamy, who in turn stomped over to them. He removed his own dagger, slicing open the skin of his palm as well, allowing them each to drip their blood onto his open wound.

Unsanitary, horribly so. A blood pact of sorts perhaps?

Foolish beings.

“You are all idiots. I can keep myself safe,” I said, my voice a raspy whisper. Not nearly as threatening or confident as I had hoped it would be. But I remained standing, my eyes roaming over each of them. “And honestly, get up out of the mud, our camp will smell incredibly foul tonight already.”

My poor excuse for humor had each of them rising, though hesitantly. I scowled at Bellamy, wishing he would have simply kept his mouth shut. I would have commented on his absence when it came to rescuing me, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he had dealt with most of the afriktors by himself.

Noe walked over to me, offering support. All too glad to accept the help, I wove my bloody arm around hers, and together we made our way back to the clearing up the hill.

The black grass crunched under my shoes, the mud squelching beneath them and threatening to suck my boots right off my feet. The air was freezing, though my shoulders felt as if they had been lit aflame. Just to be sure, I glanced down at the injuries once more.

No fire.

Though I knew what that meant. Fever. If I did not have Ranbir heal me soon, I would be suffering far worse.

By the time we reached the crest of the hill, I was wheezing. Bellamy had been following directly behind Noe and I, and the moment I tilted too far into her, he snatched me out of her grip. With no energy left to fight him, I allowed myself to be scooped into his embrace, one of his arms tucked under my legs and the other around my back.

Unable to resist, I let my head fall against his warm chest. The muscles on his body were too firm to be as comfortable as a pillow, but suitable enough that I would not be lifting my head again anytime soon.

As our group made its way down the hill, Bellamy’s steps providing a slight rocking motion, my eyes grew heavy. I tried to fight off the fatigue, but a headache bore down on my temples, sending a throbbing pain to rival the other injuries.

I knew we had made it to the bottom when Bellamy gently set me down on the forest floor, his fingers brushing my tangled hair out of my face. A second pair of hands worked their way across my body, and I suddenly felt the searing pain of fae healing powers.

“Please, leave the scars,” I rasped, grabbing onto Ranbir’s hand. He looked concerned at my request, as if he were considering whether or not my injuries had caused me to become delirious.

How could I explain to him that I needed these reminders? That without them, I struggled to differentiate between reality and nightmares?

“I want to remember,” I said, hoping that it was enough to convince him. Above, Bellamy looked as if he might scream into the ethers, or perhaps burn the world to the ground.

Luckily, Ranbir asked no further questions, healing me until the tears on my shoulders were angry pink lines. I closed my eyes, basking in the thought of having that history remain on my body. Taking solace in it.

“She will not be able to travel for at least the night,” Ranbir whispered from above as he finished.

I allowed my eyes to remain closed, both out of exhaustion and embarrassment. I wondered if I should speak up, convince them I was strong enough. If only to maintain my façade of vigor and assurance.

But Ranbir would not believe me, and Bellamy would not listen either. I would be at their whim until I was once more at full strength. So I would do what Calista suggested, keep my ears open and listen for what Bellamy and his Trusted hid between their words.

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