Darcy awoke from her blissful sleep, her body still tender and tingling from their passionate night together. She turned in bed, feeling the morning light and the gentle breeze that drifted in through the open window. The night had been sweltering, despite the rain, especially after their intense lovemaking. She stretched, her eyes still closed, and reached for the other side of the bed. It was empty.
She opened her eyes, searching for Ephraim. So mornings he would still be in bed with her, while other tis he would be up and about, careful not to disturb her if she slept in.
When she got out of bed, she found that he had already prepared everything for her, as usual. She grabbed the new dress and freshened up before slipping it on. Then she sat at the dresser to comb her short hair, her thoughts drifting back to her sister.
Ravina.
Did she have short hair too? Or was her hair long and beautiful?
Darcy imagined her sister with long, luscious hair. Her sister was a lady after all, and though she knew they looked the sa, her sister was the epito of beauty in her mind.
The creaking sound of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Ephraim stepped inside, casually dressed, which told her he hadn't gone outside and was doing sothing at ho.
"You're awake," he smiled, coming to stand behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders, and that awakened her more than anything else.
She looked at him through the mirror. "I sleep too much," she said apologetically.
His smile widened. "I have no complaints. Perhaps I exhaust you."
Oh, he did, and with each ti it was more intense. Last night started on the sofa, and once they finished, he took her back to bed, where they did it twice more.
"You don't," she replied.
He raised a brow. "No?"
A blush crept onto her cheeks, and he chuckled. "I shall strive to be more diligent next ti," he said, as his fingers began to play with a few strands of her hair.
Darcy didn't know what to say. She hadn't ant it as a criticism. She turned in her chair and looked up at him, her blush deepening. "I have no complaints. I am more than satisfied."
Ephraim looked down at her face, into her wide blue eyes, and then touched her flushed cheeks. He was utterly captivated by how she still blushed at the smallest innuendos. How her heart raced each ti he was near her. Her reactions to him were intoxicating.
He helped her rise, with two fingers under her chin. Kicking the chair aside, he backed her into the dresser and kissed her. She was perfect in every way, and as he tore his lips from hers, he trailed kisses down her neck. One day he wanted to leave his mark there, but he knew it was too soon, and he didn't want to bring back any bad mories. Having her in his life in any way was already a joy he never thought he would experience, and he would do anything to make her feel safe and protected.
Darcy was already breathless, and she wouldn't mind if he set her on the dresser and claid her body again. God! These new feelings were frightening in their intensity but still thrilling.
"Darcy," he breathed her na against her lips while his fingers brushed the shell of her ear as he tucked a few strands behind it. Then he pulled back to look at her. "Before I take you back to bed..." he began with a hint of restraint in his tone. "Let's get you so breakfast."
Without waiting, as if a second more would make him carry her back to bed, he took her hand and led her to the dining hall.
"Did you see if Ares was okay?" She asked as breakfast was served.
He nodded. "Yes. He is still not awake."
She frowned. "What should we do?"
"I don't know. I am still searching for a solution," he told her.
He had spent the entire morning in the library.
"His people might be worried if he's gone for too long," she pointed out.
"I sent a ssage to his ho," Ephraim said. He had used magic to mimic the man's handwriting and sent a letter to his mansion, stating that he would be gone for a few days. Although he had been with the X-clan lately, Ephraim couldn't send a ssage to the clan.
After they finished their breakfast, they both went to see Ares. His condition was peculiar. Now he just lay still and cold, his skin pale, probably due to the lack of air.
Darcy walked closer to the bed and lood over him, taking a closer look. Just like with her father, she felt as though she had seen him before. Who was he? A relative?
"He looks dead," she said, feeling worried.
Ephraim placed his hand on the man's chest, using so magic to warm him up. If he didn't wake up by tonight, then he would take him to the sea. It saddened him, but perhaps that was where he should stay for the rest of his days if he didn't want to die imdiately.
Ephraim spent the rest of his day studying spells, but he knew cheating death was no easy feat. Therefore, he was trying to find loopholes. Instead of saving him from death, he was trying to see if he could do sothing to his heart, but the only solution he could find was not one he liked.
If Ares wanted to survive, he would have to give up the sick organ. His heart.
He looked around the dimly lit library as if the demon that would take the heart was already lurking nearby.
Taking the heart was not as simple as it seed. He would have to summon a demon that would take the heart and replace it with a magical heart. One of dark magic. Ares would turn to the dark side. And not only that, he would be a new person. All the mories of the past, his experiences, and even his personality would be gone or changed. In other words, he would sell his soul to the devil.
With a sigh, Ephraim set the books aside. He glanced through the window, realizing that it was getting late. Darcy had left with the crew mbers for work, but she should be back soon.
He left the library, his body stiff from all the hours of sitting. In the dark halls, he looked out the large windows and saw that it was raining again. Heading out, he shifted and flew away in the rain, to the cave in the nearby mountains where Richard was resting. It seed that he wasn't taking the dragon blood well after all.
It was tricky with those related to breedmates or those who could be breeders. They didn't have all the components in their blood to make them suitable for taking dragon blood, so they could either survive or die.
In the cold cave, Ephraim felt that they had to do sothing about Richard's situation. It was risky, but without the risk, Richard or Russell might be dood.
"We need dragon blood," he declared, looking at his fellow half-breed who watched over Darcy's father. "We should take it all the way. Give him so strong blood, preferably the blood of a Katharos."
"That could kill him."
"He doesn't seem to be doing well now. Maybe if we take the blood of a Katharos and the blood of a breedmate," Darcy's blood, Ephraim thought. "He will take it better."
Or worse. But Ephraim truly wanted to save him. He couldn't bear to give bad news to Darcy.
"Where can we get Katharos blood?"
Perhaps... Nazneen would be willing to help them.
"I will find it," he said. "Keep inford about his condition." With that, he flew back to his ho.
Upon his return, he went directly to check on Ares and found Edward erging from the room with a distressed expression. "My Lord, I fear there's nothing more I can do for him."
Ephraim, disheartened by the news, nodded. "I will handle it. Go and rest," he instructed.
Edward nodded in return and vanished into the dark corridor.
Entering the guest room where Ares lay, Ephraim realized he had no choice but to take him to the sea, despite Ares' previous claim that it wouldn't help. He had swum to the island where he lived, yet his condition remained poor. Perhaps even the sea wouldn't aid him this ti.
Heavy-hearted and unable to comprehend his own reluctance, Ephraim stood beside Ares' bed. He gazed at the unconscious man, puzzled by the depth of his concern. Over his six centuries of life, countless humans had entered and left his life, growing old and passing away. Humans he had grown to care for over ti. Each loss drove him to distance himself further when he was already limited to a small circle of accepting people.
Ephraim sighed deeply, bracing himself for the task at hand. With gentle care, he lifted Ares into his arms, taking in the cold, lifeless feel of the man's body. As he carried Ares through the rain, Ephraim couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over him. He wondered if there was anything else he could have done to prevent this situation.
The rain drenched them both as Ephraim shifted into his dragon form, with Ares securely held in his claws. He took to the sky, his wings battling the fierce winds as he flew towards the sea. Ephraim didn't want to do it, but it was the only choice left at the mont.
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