Eltanin saw blood caked over the marks and it seed that she had acquired new ones. "Did you fall down?" he asked in a low voice filled with rage. She nodded. His breath beca shallow as his shoulders stiffened. "Did soone hurt you?" Another nod. He was going to kill the bastard with his fangs and offer his blood at her feet.
She nodded reluctantly.
WIth quivering lips he said, "Wait here for . Don't you dare go out of here. I will be right back!"
"But—"
"It is an order!" Enraged, he cut her off.
"Yes, Your Highness," she said, submitting to him.
He didn't want the guards to know of her presence. So, using a hidden tunnel that opened in the library, he went to the healer's room to snag a bottle of healing potion, along with yarrow and honey paste. Then once again using a hidden passageway, he rushed to his room where he had picked up a set of his smallest size of a tunic and a pair of slacks for her from his closet and tucked them in the inside of his shirt for her to wear. She was only wearing a gray threadbare gown and he was certain that the bag she had been clutching tightly this morning didn't contain much else.
When he returned, which seed like eternity to him because he was too impatient, he found that she was still waiting for him and hadn't gone anywhere. The thought that she didn't run away, relieved him. She was holding on to her threadbare gown and standing. When he looked at her, she shivered under his gaze, her heart pulsating so fast that he could listen to it. He trudged to where she was and placed the things on a side table.
Wordlessly, Eltanin walked behind her, opened the jar, took a large portion of the paste and applied it to her wounds gently. She froze under his touch. "I am sorry," he said as he applied more of it. "It is going to sting a little." It was a paste that his healer carried when soldiers were gravely injured in the wars they fought.. "But it will help to heal you quickly."
As he trailed a line of healing paste on her skin, a faint shimry white light followed his fingers. At first, he thought that it was his imagination , but when he focused on his movents he found that the white shimr tailed after every ti. For a mont he stopped as goosebumps lined his skin. Eltanin was astonished and perplexed. What in the world was happening? A ragged breath left him and he was about to ask Tania when he heard her sniffling. Muffled cries left her lips. A weight settled deep in his chest when he heard her crying. "Don't cry," he said in a low voice, completely forgetting about the shimry light. "Please…" He softly applied so more paste to her back. He had never imagined that a woman crying could affect him so much. "It'll be fine soon. If I don't apply the paste, you may catch an infection," he explained. She was wolf-less and her healing process was much slower than the normal wolves. And if he didn't take care of his mate, who would?
Once he finished applying the paste on her bruises and wounds all over her back, hands, face and ankles he stepped aside and wiped his hand with her torn gown. He walked to his chair where he had kept the clothes gathered earlier and gave them to her. "Wear these, until I get new ones for you." She was standing there, shivering and scared like a deer during hunting season. With trembling hands, she took the clothes from him.
"Where can I change into them?" she asked, as she wiped at her tears.
Even if her skin was burning, Eltanin could see that she wouldn't let any of the pain show on her face. Her eyes showed fear and lingering worry as she pressed her free hand to her chest to stop the gown from falling. He wanted to cup her face, wipe the tears away with his thumb, kiss her lips, put her in his lap, stroke her until she was comforted and then, maybe, he would allow her to change into her clothes. "You can go behind those screens," he said, pointing at a pair of wooden screens carved in a linenfold pattern. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀꪶ
Tania disappeared behind the screens. When she was behind it, he could see her silhouette after she removed what remained of her dress. All the blood rushed to his groin and his breeches tented. He wanted to drag his gaze away from her but was unable to. His wolf clamored on the inside to go to his mate, but Eltanin knew that if he went behind those screens, his deer would leap and run away. So, he fisted his palm tightly until his nails dug into his flesh.
She was an ethereal creature, one that he had to handle carefully. She was like a butterfly with gossar wings and he was a king with the most powerful wolf in Araniea.
He groaned and tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling for a mont. He closed his eyes and recalled all the tis he had seen naked won and how they had said they would happily strip for him after a few kisses, but Tania—gods help him. Even in this state, what man wouldn't tent his breeches upon seeing her naked silhouette through the screens. He was certain that all his dreams would be filled with her, he wouldn't get any peace.
As if they weren't already.
He exhaled heavily and when he looked back at her silhouette, he saw how she unfolded his tunic and stared at it for a long ti. Anticipation mounted. Those were the smallest pair of clothes he had to offer her after sifting through his five closets.
After a montary hesitation, she wore his tunic. She drowned in it, for the tunic fell well below her knees and her hands were swallowed by the sleeves.
Eltanin chuckled. She was so adorable.
His breath ragged, he quickly went behind his table, sat on the chair and crossed his legs. But the damn position was extrely painful for his length misbehaved. His gaze dashed over to the right where there was a pile of official parchnts and he tried to think of every official engagent that was due for the day. He couldn't think of a single.
The rustle of fabric indicated that she had finished dressing and was collecting her other clothes from the ground. When Tania stepped out from behind the screens, she was drowning in so much fabric that all he saw was her head bobbing in the air above everything. She tried rolling the sleeves up but they slipped back down. Abandoning his seat, he got up to help her.
"Where do I throw these?" she asked in a soft voice with a tinge of embarrassnt and fear as she showed him the heap of torn clothes.
"Are you hurt?" she asked in a low voice full of concern, looking pointedly at his erection. "Sothing inside is swollen."
Why did his mate have to be so naive? Eltanin groaned inwardly.
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