Marcus saw blood caked over the marks and it seemed that she had acquired new ones. "Did you fall down?" he asked in a low voice filled with rage. She nodded. His breath became shallow as his shoulders stiffened. "Did someone 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 me. 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 seemed 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, Marcus 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 shimmery white light followed his fingers. At first, he thought that it was his imagination , but when he focused on his movements he found that the white shimmer tailed after every time. For a moment he stopped as goosebumps lined his skin. Marcus was astonished and perplexed. What in the world was happening? A ragged breath left him and he was about to ask Lara 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 shimmery light. "Please…" He softly applied some 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, Marcus 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
Lara 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 Marcus 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 gossamer wings and he was a king with the most powerful wolf in Aranea.
He groaned and tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling for a moment. He closed his eyes and recalled all the times he had seen naked women and how they had said they would happily strip for him after a few kisses, but Lara—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 time. Anticipation mounted. Those were the smallest pair of clothes he had to offer her after sifting through his five closets.
After a momentary 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.
Marcus 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 extremely painful for his length misbehaved. His gaze dashed over to the right where there was a pile of official parchments and he tried to think of every official engagement 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 Lara 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 embarrassment 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. "Something inside is swollen."
Why did his mate have to be so naive? Marcus groaned inwardly.
Chapter 38 Inappropriate
Groaning inwardly, Marcus took the pile and threw it in the trash, and then he set them ablaze. As the fire burned in the trash, he rolled her sleeves up halting just below her elbows, and then helped her with the breeches by curling them onto her waist and tied a lace to fasten them. He could feel that she was shying away, her body tense.
Once she was dressed in his clothes, he stepped back to admire his handiwork and found her blinking at him owl-eyed as if asking him 'what now'.
Marcus's throat bobbed. Could she be any cuter? His thoughts raced at the fact that this delicate piece was going to be staying alone in servants' quarters and that made him anxious.
"What do I have to do, Your Highness?" she asked. Her beautiful blue-green eyes were focused on him.
Her question brought him back to reality. With his work forgotten, he counter-asked her, "Did you get into a scuffle this morning or did someone hurt you?" He needed an answer and he needed it quickly.
"I don't know who they are," she asked, lowering her head. "But I heard their names as Giada and… I don't remember the other one...."
Marcus stiffened. "What did she do to you?" He wondered how Morava's friends reached the servants' quarters. But then he remembered that his father had taken Morava out for a palace tour. Her entourage must have stepped away from her or gotten lost. Her words brought him back out of his thoughts.
Lara stared at him with fear and worry. She pleaded, "Your Highness, I think what they did is of no importance. Please don't do anything against them, otherwise they may end up attacking me again. And in my position, I cannot afford to attract any attention." Her lips and chin trembled as she said it.
Marcus narrowed his eyes and she winced.
Unacceptable. Fury exploded in his chest and his vision turned red when he imagined his mate being beaten all over again. He was going to teach them all a lesson. He was going to make them all eat shit and then some. How dare they do anything like this to his little mate in his palace, under his protection? If she was not going to reveal why they did it, he was going to find out himself one way or another. "I am going to bloody behead them!"
"Please don't," she begged. "This is very normal. It is not the first time I have received a beating like this." She shuffled on her feet at the admission. "While I had never been in a position to defend myself at the monastery, I kicked the two girls and was able to run away from them. If you don't speak about it to anyone, perhaps they will forget about the entire incident."
Marcus blinked, stunned at her efforts to keep the incident contained even though she was badly hurt. And that made him want to protect her even more. His wolf was sad and whispered, 'She's been abused so much. We need to protect our mate.' Marcus closed the gap between them and without a modicum of restraint, embraced her. He could sense her hesitation and her physical struggle that was weak like a kitten. "Shhh…" he said as he curled his strong arms around her and stroked her hair gently. "I will make sure that such things do not happen to you ever again." His body strummed like a guitar with her in his arms and despite her squirming he kept her there, inhaling her calming citrusy scent.
WIth Marcus's arms around her, Lara tensed. Why would a king like Marcus embrace her and comfort her? He was very kind to her, maybe he pitied her after seeing all her injuries. She wasn't used to such closeness. She couldn't remember a day where her alcoholic grandmother had hugged her and as far as her memories of her parents were concerned, they were just nightmares. Bloody, violent, magic zapping around them, screams, wails… ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀꪶ
"What are you doing, Your Highness?" she asked softly. "This behavior is inappropriate for a king. What if someone enters the library and sees you with me like this?" She reminded him even though she was a little afraid of his reaction.
Marcus's eyes were closed and his chin was on top of her head, which he had pressed with his large palm against his chest. She tried her best to get out of his grip, but failed. The man was just too strong.
"Hmm?" he said, as if asking a question, but was obviously not listening. Rather than leaving her, he turned her head into his chest so that now her nose and lips were pressing against it.
"Your Highness?" she said again, her voice smothered. What she said next sounded something like, "Pleaseee lave mei." His chest vibrated with a rumble. While pushed against his chest, she made several feeble attempts to free herself, but it was of no use. Finally, she resigned herself to it and stopped her futile struggle.
Moments later, when Marcus felt better, he released her, but he still had his hands on her shoulders. "What did you say?" he asked with a silly smile, feeling a hundred times better.
Eyes rounded like that of an owl, she looked at him. Lara knew that he hadn't heard a word of what she said. The way he had pressed her against him, she was feeling too shy. Blushing a thousand shades of reds under his intense stare, she said, "Your Highness, this behavior is improper. What if someone enters and sees us in this position? I think we should start working." She blinked once and then twice when she saw that he was still staring at her with those eyes that were as dark as night.
He measured her for a moment and then said, "At first, no one will enter without my permission. Second, do you think I care if they see me like this? Moreover—" He lowered his hands and a lop-sided grin appeared on his lips. "I think you wanted me to hug you." He knew she didn't but he, being the shameless wolf, wanted to. As her mate, it felt natural.
Numerous women in this world would have battled with each other to be in his arms. He chuckled. And this little one was telling me that it was improper?
The man was utterly shameless! "I didn't!" she snapped. She immediately bit her lip and lowered her head. What a fool she was to say that it was improper on his part. He was, after all, the king. He could do whatever he wished, but just not with her. The weight of his hands on her shoulders felt as heavy as lead. The blush that rose on her cheeks had traveled to the tips of her ears.
Marcus replied, "It isn't inappropriate. But you—"
"It is inappropriate," she interrupted, lifting her face. She reminded him, "I heard that you are going to be betrothed to Princess Morava." Something inside her twisted when she said those words. She saw him cringe. "Please give me the books of which I need to translate," she added quickly to suppress the strange feeling.