Chapter 53 Claeg
“You’re hurting him!” I roared, throwing the witch to the side, but she didn’t cease the dancing sweep of her hands or her eerie song. Anastasius had fallen unconscious, but his face was still pinched in agony, his back arching. “Stop!” I commanded the witch. She was only a child, but I palmed my side for a dagger. Of course, there was none, so my fists balled, prepared to hurt her for the pain she was subjecting Anastasius to. She continued to ignore me as if I were nothing but an annoying bug flitting about her space.
I growled, storming towards her, but strong arms wrapped around my torso. I lashed out, expecting Sivert, but it was Ercan who held me back. “Let me go, Father. I will not warn you again,” I vowed, my voice low as I released the brutality of the Ruptor. He stilled, recognizing the tone of my darker side, but didn’t let go. Instead, Rohit stepped in front of me. He opened his mouth to reason with me, but I was beyond words. There was only action. I became a feral beast, jerking so violently Ercan was forced to release me right into Rohit’s waiting arms. I grunted, ramming into him with all my strength. He stumbled backwards, and I would’ve ripped through him had my focus not been taken by the whimpers coming from Anastasius. I threw Rohit to the side with inhuman strength and stalked toward the draconis who dared harm what was mine.
“Clotho,” the witch barked, her tone so jagged that it hurt my ears. If it weren’t for the pain in my chest, I would have shriveled away from the unnatural cadence. My sister stood between me and my target, baring her teeth in an instant. I snarled at her, showing her exactly where my heart laid, but I didn’t care. In that moment, nothing mattered more than protecting my prince.
Clotho didn’t hesitate before drawing her twin daggers from her shoulders. My sister was the master of those daggers, for they seemed to follow her every wish. Many feared how lethal she was with them in her hands, but I didn't bat an eye. De Vita had tortured me, leaving scars deep within my bones. They had unknowingly strengthened me.
“I won’t let you touch her,” she spat. I raised an eyebrow at the wording, but there was no time to question her. Clotho launched herself at me. And so we began our dance, fighting with the short weapons made the battle close and intimate. We dodged, parried, lunged, and swiped, neither of us gaining the upper hand. Eventually she found an opening, thrusting upwards. I caught the blade aimed for my throat by the edge.
“Get out of my way, sister,” I warned. I didn’t just fight to remain strong anymore; I fought to keep the love I had found, to protect it. She may have been the Janardan heir, but I was the hunter of weakness and I knew hers. I tightened my grip on her weapon until it was coated with my blood. The wound cut deep, it had to for blood to spill, but the resulting shock was worth it.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked, withdrawing her weapon with shaky hands.
“Sometimes you have to bleed before you can heal,” I answered, using her shock to push past her, but Rohit stood in my path. I let out a low warning sound.
“Open your eyes and look, you fool! She has not harmed the prince.” He gestured behind me, and I blinked at him, relaxing slightly at the certainty I found in his eyes. He was right. Where Stas’ shoulder had been a mess of torn ligaments and tendons, the flesh was knitting itself together before my eyes. The witch really was healing him. My weapon clattered to the floor, and shudders of relief wracked through my body. I stumbled back toward Stas, grasping his hands in mine. They were warm, and his skin had regained its golden hue. I caressed his cheek, my ragged breaths quickly turning into sobs.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
He was going to be okay.