211 - A Desperate Turn Of Event
Death had a feathery touch that left chills behind. At this moment, George could feel those chills on his spine.
His death was fast approaching.
He knew it.
From the little window that looked like a dot at the far height of the dungeon, he could see the golden rays of the setting sun.
He didn't do it!
He could never kill Aunt Alice!
She was dead?
She was like a mother to him.
His heart hurt; he wanted to grieve her loss, but he couldn't; he would be killed soon… for a crime he didn't commit too.
If only Zezi would come to see him. She was the only one who could convince the King.
At that moment, he heard something. Someone had stepped into the dungeon.
Hope glimmered in his mismatched eyes and he hurried to the bar.
“Zezi?” He called out quickly before the being who had stepped into the dungeon came into view. His face fell and his hope vanished.
Delice.
A calmness washed over his wolf, as an overwhelming worry came over him.
His death would mean he was leaving her alone.
Tears filled his eyes and his throat was filled with so much sorrow he couldn't speak. His wolf blamed him for the time he had stolen from them and for once, his wolf’s grief became his own.
“Zezi is not coming,” she said quietly, as she approached him. Her eyes concealed of everything. His eyes found her neck, and disappointment hit him when he found out she was wearing a high-collared dress.
Disappointment hit him?
His wolf’s feelings were starting to merge into his own.
It was starting to feel like his own feelings.
However, this time, he didn't fight it.
Too much was against him for him to make another enemy within himself.
“The King fears that seeing you might put her pregnancy at risk, her health,” Delice continued. “She has been through enough.”
Grieve washed over him and he stumbled back, his head bowed in sorrow.
Delice noticed many things at that moment, but what stood out to her most was the fact that he was injured in too many places. He shouldn't be here, he should be receiving treatment. Why weren't his injuries healing?!
It hurts to see him like this, she could feel the sting in her mark, the pang in her heart.
She clenched her hands by her side not to reach into her collar and brush over the bite mark.
That mark was strange, she was certain of that, their bond was strange, and talking to Nicholas about it had confirmed it.
“I know what you are.”
He scoffed painfully, feeling betrayed. “I would never—”
“I know.”
He looked up sharply, shocked and surprised that he didn't have to convince her or fight for her to believe him.
“I sought the help of Lord Rosil this afternoon because I couldn't find Nicholas. I needed something to help with the sting and pain of the bite. While she was helping with her magic, I saw it.”
He took a step closer to the bars.
“Saw it?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She spoke like this was something he was supposed to know about. “Saw what?”
Her gaze held his; it was hard to ignore the feeling that followed, but necessary, so it was done. “Our connection is a strange one.”
A half smile played on his lips. It was devoid of humor or the happiness it should carry. “What did you see, Delice?”
It was the first time he was calling her name without bitterness, rage, or the quest for vengeance.
He called her name.
Like she was just her, just Delice.
Tears threatened to choke her, but she suppressed them and took a step closer to him, the bars standing between them, the chains holding him down. She was torn but her feelings were of no significance at this moment.
“There was another presence in that Hall. You were fighting with it.”
George’s eyes widened.
Another presence?!
He didn't even know—
He paused in his thinking.
Of course, another presence!
It was a foggy memory but it was there. By the Moon, it was there!
His hands grabbed the bars and desperation shone in his eyes, as he spoke hurriedly, pleading, “You need to tell the King—”
“He will not believe me.” Her hands instinctively went around his, his warmness a sharp contrast to her cold. She pulled away quickly, folding her hands behind her. “My interest is conflicted.” She didn't have to explain that, he understood. “My words no longer hold value.”
“I will only die for my crimes, Delice.”
Her name, again.
Like she was a friend.
“This is not my crime. I can feel it in my bones. I did not kill her, I would never–”
“I know but he doesn't.”
Someone that believed him, someone that was on his side. It made him feel a little less alone.
He shouldn't feel that with her, but he did and he was too tired to fight it.
“Also, he might just believe that you are manipulating my thoughts through the bond we share; after all, you are my mate.” Delice paused, the last word heavy, filling the dungeon with an unexplainable tension. “You are nothing like we have ever seen before. They will attribute different abilities to you until they know what you are.”
“I am not manipulating you, Delice, I swear by the Moon.”
“I know. I trust you… and what I have seen, of course.” She frowned. “But I cannot prove it and you do not have time.” Her voice filled with urgency. “I need to get you out of here.”
At that moment, they heard boots marching in their direction.
They were coming.
It was time!
“Help me, please,” George whispered, begging.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
A heavy word but it was all that was needed.
A second passed.
Then Two and Three….
The guards burst into the dungeon only to find it empty of its prisoner.
The King, being Delice's Sire, could smell her presence in the dungeon.
“A traitor, twice.” He gritted, rageful. “Find them!” He commanded. “I want them both, alive or dead. I want them before dawn.”
An order was given and a mad search began.
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