Page 47 of Trapped By Claws
I remained beside Corvin, feeling so helpless.
What could I do?
The air was thick and unpleasant with the odors of spilled stew, fresh blood, and charred wood. Though I hadn't asked a lot of questions in the shifter village, I had seen quite a bit. They had a medical facility attached to the tavern and the inn and the store. Shifters consumed huge quantities of food. They needed it for the energy. "Is it true that food and water helps? That you eat a lot to heal faster?"
He nodded, eyes firmly shut.
Well, that was something I could help with.
I halted when I saw the pieces of my spoon catching fire on the wood stove.
"No!" Lunging forward, I gripped the pieces of the wooden spoon and put out the flames licking along the end. I'd forgotten all about it until it was almost too late. It was going to be hard to repair.
"What's wrong?" Corvin called. He groaned as he started to get up. One of the wounds along his mouth and neck reopened.Blood trickled down his now-dull skin. He collapsed against the bed.
"Nothing, it's nothing. Don't worry about it," I said tightly. I pinched the bridge of my nose. It really wasn't worth his attention. There were far more important matters for us to worry about. Tears pricked my eyes as I set the broken pieces on the table.I didn't believe in dreams anyway.
Right now, I had to focus on the tasks at hand.
I went back into the storerooms and started searching for anything that might help strengthen his healing abilities.
Tagger remained by Corvin's side for about an hour before he padded out and disappeared. He returned with various fish and mollusks, piling them on the table.
I praised Tagger each time, and when he at last stopped, I scratched his chin and behind his ears. "You're very sweet. Just the very best," I said gently. He didn't chirp or squeak in response, and he rejected every treat I offered him until I returned one of the scallops to him. Even then he took it to Corvin and tried to make him eat it.
It took what felt like hours to clean up the destruction. There was another bin in the storeroom that I dragged out for all the broken pieces. There had to be glue somewhere in this place.
Maybe I could make some out of the fishbones? Maybe…
Taking care of Corvin was more important though, and right now, all I could really do to help him was ensure he had good nourishing food.
Thanks to Tagger's efforts, I now had haddock, mussels, shrimp, scallops, and small salmon. All fresh. All rich and flavorful.
Once I got the stew simmering, I cleaned up. It felt as if it took hours.
I discovered a splinter-riddled mop under one broken crate as well as a broom. No dust pan to be seen, so I made do witha broken bowl. Digging through the storeroom and searching revealed additional items. Even some white wine, which I promptly put into the stew. The tea tins I brought out along with a small pot would serve well enough to boil water and make some good tea.
Rifling through the items, I even found my mini-crossbow. Apparently Tagger had kept it. Incorrigible little beast.
Whenever I passed the little room where Corvin slept, I peeked in. Some of the wounds just didn't seem to be healing. He kept his hand over his side protectively. He had been able to heal me, even if he said it was an accident. So why was he struggling so much now?
Was it the venom?
How cruel was it that he had to live with venomous claws set against his wrist? Venom customized to his very blood. And he had to live here on top of all that.
Sometimes he trembled. Sweat beaded on his brow. He kept his jaws clenched tight.
I brought him water and made him a special tea I found in the storeroom as well. It smelled of green tea, ginger, lemon, and pomegranate. "Drink this," I murmured, hoping he would find my voice soothing. "I'll have food ready for you in a couple more hours."
He nodded tightly. "You don't have to do this," he said shakily.
"Just drink this."
He accepted it, his grip faltering a little on the mug.
"Do they often beat you this way?"
"When the mood seizes them."
