Chapter 26 - I need you here

EMMA

The clock is ticking. I can hear it in every labored breath he takes. His blood drips on the floor, and every drop is a second closer to his death. His skin is pale white and his eyes are hollow, but he acts like everything is fine. His face is stern, but I can see the minuscule wince when he tries to move.

I’m pacing around the room. “Just let me get Galena.” I plead. I cannot watch someone die like that again. I don’t stop to think about it. I just can't let him die like this.

He closes his eyes and rests his head against the window. He swallows and his throat moves with the action. “Just leave me alone.” His voice is getting weaker.

“Are you crazy?” I shout and I lean over to shake his arm to wake him up.

Hadrian opens his eyes and grimaces. “Can you keep your voice down?”

I want to shout at him if he’s serious right now, but there is a knock on the door and Hadrian gives me a pointed glare. I glare back at him.

“Emma, are you okay?” Miles asks from the other side of the door. There is concern audible in his voice.

A growl sounds beside me. Hadrian bares his teeth and his eyes burn with newfound fury.

“I’m fine Miles, I was just talking to Prince Hadrian.” I call.

“Oh, oh okay, sorry to interrupt, Your Highness.” The surprise in his voice is evident. Of course he would be surprised. Prince Hadrian has not been at the palace for a week.

I get up from the floor and try to think of a solution. I pace back and forth in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The windows have a view of the palace gardens and the pond with the willow tree. The flowers move to the command of the wind. The yellow flowers of the witch hazel blow through the air.

*Wait, witch hazel?*

I think back to the garden and all the different plants and flowers that grow there. I turn back to Hadrian. “I have an idea, don’t move.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He grumbles.

I have an urge to roll my eyes, but I need to be quick. I don’t know how long the prince has left. In my opinion, he should’ve been dead already. This might not even be enough. I clean my hands and make sure that there aren’t any blood stains on my clothes. I open the door of the rooms and Miles turns to me. He eyes me with obvious discomfort. I close the door when he tries to look past me.

“I— eh I’m hungry.” I move toward the kitchen.

“I’ll go with you.” Miles offers. I’ve learned it is not really a choice. I don’t argue, because I’m in a hurry.

We walk to the kitchen and it’s mostly empty. Miles waits outside the door, like he always does when I go to visit Cecile. Cecile is grating orange zest for one of her recipes. The smell of citrus prickles my nose.

“What’s up Shortcake? If you come for more cream puffs, then you’re out of luck.”

“I need a favor.” I whisper.

She cocks her head. “Why are you whispering?” She whispers back.

I’ve learned that werewolves have impeccable hearing and I don't want Miles to find out. “Please, I need your help.” I whisper again. I sigh in relief when Cecile nods.

“I need green tea leaves, cheesecloth and ice packs.” I tell her. I don’t wait for her answer and move to the back window and open it. Cecile raises an eyebrow and opens her mouth to speak.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be right back.” I interject and climb through the window, to the garden.”

I step on the grass with bare feet. The ground is ice cold and dew has collected on the grass leaves. Goosebumps cover the bare skin of my arms.

I noticed the other day that the kitchens have a direct view of the gardens. I quickly search for the witch hazel plant and break several branches filled with the yellow flowers. The only sound in the air is the howling wind and the snap of the branches. Near the pond I find some yarrow root and pull it out of the ground. I take it all with me, back to the kitchen.

I climb back through the window. Cecile has gone back to grating the zest. On the counter lies a tin can, that I know holds green tea leaves. Next to it lies pieces of folded cheesecloth and two ice packs.

I work as quickly as I can to make the compress. I take everything with me and Miles gives me a confused look. His eyebrows are raised as I fly past him without an explanation. I just hope that he has no knowledge of herbal medicine.

I move quickly back to the royal wing and I close the door behind me. I heave a breath and Hadrian is still sitting in the same spot as before. He turns his head to look at me.

*How is this man still alive?*

Because he’s not a man. He’s a werewolf. I remind myself. Still a werewolf that isn’t healing.

I kneel down in front of him and he watches my every move.

“We need to remove your jacket. Your body is too hot and needs to cool down to stop the bleeding.”

He moves one hand to the buttons and pops them open one by one. “Too hot, huh?”

Every button reveals more of his chiseled chest. The curve of his collarbone, the hard lines of his abdomen. I turn my gaze away and focus on the task at hand, but still I feel my face flush.

He takes his hand off the wound to open his jacket completely. His bloody abdomen is exposed and the three gashes lie bare. I clean the wound as best as I can and press the compress on the wound and the ice packs over it. The combination of the herbs and the cold will hopefully stop the bleeding and allow him to heal. I tightly wrap his stomach so that the compress keeps pressure on the wound. I clean up the blood around it and wrap it again.

Something tugs at my hair and I look up. I find myself caught in his gaze. His fingers are playing with the ends of my hair again. There is a purple hue under his eyes and I wonder when the last time was that he slept.

“Pretty mate.” He says and his hand wraps around my hip and pulls me toward him.

I lose my balance and steady myself with my hands on his shoulders. His arms snake around my back and his hand wanders under my sweater and touches the bare skin of my back. A hot shiver runs over my spine. It exhilarates my heartbeat and fuels hot magma to my stomach. He buries his nose in my hair. His lips touch the mark on my shoulder and I can’t help the gasp, and bite back the moan that threatens to escape my lips. The touch sends pleasure through my veins and to the pit deep in my stomach.

“What are you doing?” I choke out.

He presses deep circles into the skin of my lower back with his thumb. “I need you here right now.” His voice is low and rough. “I need the touch of my mate.”

I’ve read about this. I tried to learn more about what I’ve gotten myself into. The library is full of books of writers and poets who describe the mate bond. About what the mate bond entails. Apparently touch is very important for mates. It can calm them, arouse them and strengthen them. The writers are in agreement that the mate bond of chosen mates isn’t nearly as strong as that of fated mates, but similar effects can be experienced. Even if it’s marginal compared to a fated mate bond.

Hadrian pulls me closer and I struggle to not accidentally touch his wound.

“Hmm, you smell so good.” He says.

*He is definitely delirious*.

The movement makes me straddle his thighs and my hands move further over his shoulders. My fingertips graze rugged skin. Irregular lines that start from his shoulder and I lean in to get a better look. Hadrian takes a deep breath when I come closer. My eyes widen when I see hundreds of scar lines covering his shoulder blades and all over his back. The scars are old, but the skin is still rough and mangled.

*What happened to him?*