Chapter 85

He gulped, finding it almost impossible to move. Her breath fanned his neck, her breathing getting warmer the closer she pressed herself to him, clung to him like he was some sought of life source that she couldn't seem to be able to get herself away from, even if she tried.

Ironic. He didn't even possess something of such vibrance.

A life.

"Don't leave me, please." Her voice was breathy.

She was asleep, probably having a dream.

Wait.

A dream.... about... him?

"Zezi." His voice sounded unusually shaky, foreign to his own ears. His frown deepened, the black zig zag lines filling his face, as his eye lids fell shut and he sucked her scent into his lungs.

Lily and honey.

She always smelt so good, smelt even better now that the wolf's annoying mark had been gotten rid of.

He detested it while it stood there, disfiguring her neck. He had never been able to breath her in while she had it on, the wolf's scent had always irritated him.

But now?

Ah, by the Blood, there was nothing better.

He wanted her scent to fill his lungs and go through every part of his body, awake every single sense he didn't even know he had, just like it was doing now.

It was overwhelming but he loved it.

He loved her, not because of the matebond. Whatever he felt for her now was much stronger than the first time he had laid his eyes on her. He was sure it wasn't just the matebond, he was in love.

He didn't even know when it had happened.

He wanted her, with every fiber of his being. How long would he have to stay away? This was killing him.

The wet, salty smelling liquid that dropped on his neck, made him open his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"Zezi?"

He tried to move away but she clung to him even tighter.

"Please... save me." Her voice was really low this time and whatever happiness he had before was fading fast.

She wasn't dreaming about him. She was having a nightmare.

Worry filled his lungs, threatening to choke him.

What if he was in her nightmare? What if he was the terrifying being leaving her petrified.

He didn't want that.

"Help me." Her voice trailed off, her hold on his robes stronger than it was before, her claws had elongated and they were now scratching against his chest, drawing blood.

His hold tightened around the blanket that had reached for earlier, the thought of the nightmare she must be having filling him with guilt.

"Stay with me."

Her heart was racing wildly. He could hear it. Then it slowed down a little. She must be seeing something that brought her comfort now.

What a relief.

He hoped th--

"George."

The zig zag lines consumed his face, only barely allowing his brown skin to show in the background, any trace of white gone from his eyes, leaving an abyss of darkness in its wake.

Of course, she would dream of the wolf. He was nothing but a insane being wrapped in fur and held up with bones, yet it was him she chose to dream of.

The wolf over him.

He clenched his jaws, his claws already punching holes into the blanket from how tightly he had held it in his grip.

It was difficult to pull her away from him as gently as possible, the rage that crossed through his veins were consuming and his need to rip into beings and devour soul felt overpowering.

Finally he was able to laid her back, with stiff movement he wiped her tears and pulled the blanket over her before slamming the door shut, his force coming out more than he had expected.

If he had woken her up though, he didn't wait to find out. Going down the stairs, he sped off to the dungeon instead.

It had been so long he had gotten into a fight.

Tonight, he would and it would be bloody.

___

Delice sat up in bed.

She had been trying to sleep since she had returned from the grave.

At first, she had stayed awake expecting for a guard or a maid to knock at her door and tell her that the King had requested for her presence to answer for her crime.

At that time, she had settled by her dressing chair and written her plea, signing it with her name, in hopes that the King might at least have mercy on her own with this. Although, Lady Zezi had said she had merely used her to get out, which Delice didn't believe one bit, she hoped that Lady Zezi might be truthful and open, and begged on her behalf tonight.

The King would listen to her. On a matter like this, her voice would be of more significance.

So, she had waited and waited, till the ink she used on the scroll had dried, then she had decided that maybe Lady Zezi had not being caught. Maybe she had gotten away with this one.

Well, that was good, she was lucky.

After that Delice had gone to bed to sleep, only sleeping had been impossible.

She tossed and turned on the bed, and without a sound, tears streamed down her face as everything that had been happening in her life crashed over her again.

She couldn't tell why it was happening now, why she was remembering everything now, maybe because she had talked about it but whatever it was, it hurt.

The memories, that empty grave and that space in her heart that kept getting bigger and bigger.

They all hurt.

She turned in bed, her lips quivering as she pulled the pillow in her arms and wept.

It was all too much for her to bear.

For an hour, she stayed like that, weeping silently, till she fell asleep.

But her sleep had only been just as terrible and she had woken up shortly after.

Defeated, she crawled out of bed.

Still in the gown that she had worn to the grave, she stepped out of her room and walked down the hallway, her steps slow, like she wasn't even moving.

Finally, she stopped at Laura's door.

Her knuckles hit the door silently a couple of times before the door moved and a face popped in between. Laura's nose scrunched up at the smell that swept past it, and a shadow of a smile played over Delice's lips when she observed the look of disapproval.

Laura's hand tightened around the doorknob.

This had better not be what she was thinking.

The next words that slipped pass Delice's lips, however, confirmed that it was indeed what she was thinking.

"I went to the grave."