Word Count: 1702
~Kiva
I shift from foot to foot as I allow Ark and all his wrath to examine my weeping arm wound.
"Don't be mad." I give him a weak smile, swinging my arm around as if to prove that it really isn't as bad as it probably looks.
"You're injured," he says slowly.
His lack of explosive anger is unsettling. That quiet rage that echoes in his eyes will haunt me, and will be the subject of my attention when facing whatever punishment he subjects me too.
"I tried to scale the wall back into my room and fell," I admit meekly, motioning down to the sorry state of my wet clothing.
My pride is wounded the most...and the breath that was knocked from my lungs will be missed, considering how painful it was trying to get some more back.
Ark doesn't say a word, winding his fingers tightly around my uninjured arm before yanking me to follow him.
"Woah, where are we going?"
"To the infirmary."
I practically dig the tips of my boots into the wooden floor. A hideous scraping sound followed by me nearly tripping over follows.
"No! My father will find out," I yelp. It's a fate worse than death, to be subjected to my fathers ire.
I cannot listen to another lecture on how I'm letting down thousands by not being a good Princess, or how my dead mother is probably rolling in her grave...
"Good. Maybe then he can punish you so I don't have to," he mutters, yanking on my arm.
I fight against him. "Ark, please. I'll tell you why I snuck out if you just get me some medical supplies so I can tend to myself."
He regards me quietly, thoughtfully.
Eventually he sighs. "Fine. But I need the truth."
He lets me go, gesturing for me to head up the stairs first. I make it to my room first, him following a couple minutes later with medical supplies in his hand.
Quietly, he ushers me into the bathroom, waiting until I sit on the edge of the bathtub before he starts examining the wound.
I reach out for the supplies, willing to treat myself, but he pulls back.
"I'll do it," he offers calmly.
"You don't have to-"
"Quiet."
I press my lips together. Instead, I just look at him as he grabs my arm with tentative fingers, stretching it out gently.
A hiss of pain escapes through my teeth. Ark glances up, eyes tracing over my face to ensure I'm okay. I nod mutely, not wanting him to stop.
He draws in a breath, quietly resuming.
He works quickly, adeptly. His gloved touch is featherlight as he cleans the wound.
"You look really mad at me," I murmur, examining his expression.
He shakes his head slowly. "You have no idea."
At least the wound isn't severe. He seems to take too much satisfaction from disinfecting it though, not hesitating in applying the liquid despite my yelp of pain.
"My mate wouldn't hurt me," I grit out. He wouldn't know that, but by now I would hope he would trust me with this.
That's a foolish dream, though.
Something flickers in his eyes. "You're wrong about that."
"How would you know, huh?"
His grip tightens on my arm, drawing a sharp breath from my lips. The way he looks at me, like he does right now, makes me feel like he knows more than he tells me.
I wish he wasn't so good at being secretive. And I wish more so that I didn't care about it.
He lowers that dark, burning gaze back to my wound. "Anything could have happened to you. Why do you insist on making my job impossible?"
"I needed to see him..."
"If I see him in your room, anywhere near your bed, I'm going to murder him," he mutters.
A chill crawls over my skin. Why do I get the feeling he's being literal about that?
I let my frustration fuel my anger. "You really think he's going to sneak in to have sex with me?"
The only reason he has had to be in my room has been to almost kill me....
"He's your mate. It's all he will be thinking about," he tells me.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever."
He rifles through the medical supplies, pulling out a bandage. I watch as he cuts it accurately, stretching it out before he begins to dress the wound.
"Are you going to punish me?" I ask softly.
His eyes flicker up to mine, his brow raised. "How do you suggest I punish you, huh?"
I shift uncomfortably on the counter. The idea that comes to mind isn't one I would be willing to voice to Ark, but it flushes my cheeks with embarrassment nonetheless.
"You could always let me off with a small warning," I exclaim sweetly, giving him a tentative smile.
"I was thinking of something a little more," he draws off, his gaze darkening. "Painful."
I narrow my eyes. "You're going to make me run laps, aren't you?"
He always inflicts that punishment on me when he senses my attention slipping during training. He knows it's my least favourite activity.
"It's going to be hard on you. That's all I know," he says ominously.
Some devilish, sinful part of me wants to know what he means by that...My mind has decided that despite the pain of the wound, it is enjoying being as creative as possible with the images that flash through my mind.
"Why do I kind of like the sound of that?" I whisper.
He looks up through his dark lashes.
"Kiva," he warns quietly.
"I'm joking." Not really.
It's easy to insinuate sex with him because he has an unwavering willpower. If he did decide to take me to bed right now, even though I know it's wrong, I don't think I would protest.
"Uh huh," he mutters.
"All done?" I ask lightly, noting my finished bandage.
He dips his head, stepping back so I can slide off the counter. He towers over me, not stepping away.
"Get some sleep. But we aren't done talking about this," he murmurs.
I can still feel his silent anger. I endangered myself tonight, putting his job at risk...
But there is more than that between us now. And he knows it.
***
The next week passes swiftly by with little drama.
I've spent most of it wallowing, thinking about my mate.
This morning, I stroll around the grounds, enjoying the sun despite the cold chill to the air. Ark has backed off, seeming to accept that my mid-morning strolls aren't dangerous and that I need time to myself.
I still haven't decided what I'm going to do about my mate, although I am leaning toward leaving him behind to move on with Caspian.
Because what other choice do I have?
A figure lurking on the edge of the formal garden causes me to pause.
It's a woman. She watches me with wide eyes, and for a moment, I figure she is a gardener, or someone else who works here.
But it becomes clear very quickly that she isn't.
"Who are you?" I ask tentatively.
"My name doesn't matter. I need help," she exclaims, striding toward me.
I scramble back a few steps over the gravel. With everything going on, with my death currently like luxury gold to certain people, I know I shouldn't cosy up with strangers.
"What kind of help do you think you'll find on these private grounds?" I question, gesturing around.
Father's general security patrols this area...there is a chance she will be found and apprehended just for being here.
The woman swallows tightly, smoothing her thin brown hair from her face. "Your father knows what happened to my daughter."
I frown.
"How do you know?"
"She came here to work as a maid and has been missing ever since," she tells me, desperation leeching over her every word.
My stomach sinks. By the bitter sadness in her eyes, she is mourning her daughter. And by the burning anger accompanying it, she blames my father.
"What's her name?" Maybe I've crossed paths with her.
"Ariel."
"I'm sorry, I don't know who that is," I tell her earnestly. I wish I did, because it's clear this is a broken woman who is desperate to find her daughter.
A dark shadow of pain and ire passes over her face, right as she charges at me.
She pushes at my chest, nearly sending me toppling into the hedge. "Your father knows. There are talks about what he does to young girls who come into that cursed manor you live in."
A breath catches in my throat, a sense of panic and confusion overcoming me. I rest my hand over my chest, feeling as though her hands left a scorching hot brand on me.
It doesn't seem right to fight back against this woman, to defend myself with the dagger tucked into my belt. She is clearly out of her mind...
"You're wrong. My father won't know anything," I exclaim firmly.
"All you royals are damned. You will all suffer for what you have done," she growls, pointing her finger in my face aggressively.
I flinch back. "We have done nothing."
"Those people who tried to kill you all are doing the right thing. Your citizens are on their side," she hisses, her breath clouding in front of her face.
"How could you say that?" I ask breathlessly.
"You'll see, Princess....You will get what is coming for you."
She backs away, leaving me stunned and speechless. I know my father...he would never allow anything terrible to occur within his walls, even to his staff.
I've never seen him so much as raise his voice at one...
The woman tucks her threadbare shawl around her shoulder tighter, glancing over at an approaching guard before darting back off toward the forest.
Something dark and terrible settles in my stomach. What if she's right?
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I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! and as always it is available 10 chapters ahead on Radish!
THE DARKEST TEMPTATION— OUT NOW ON WATTPAD!!
~Midika 💜🐼