Chapter 12 #2
“I’ll take care of it,” he growled then leaned in closer and pressed his mouth to hers, and she gave in, letting him kiss her in a rough way as he touched and pawed at her shaking body.
And as anger scorched through my veins over what she was letting him do, after she’d sworn to me no man would ever replace my father, I slipped back into my room and threw my fist into a wall.
A creak beyond the door stirred me from my thoughts and I was glad to leave them in the past as a monster in me rose to the surface of my skin.
The laughter downstairs had died away and the only sounds reaching me now were the giggle of a girl close by, followed by the grunts of a man who was presumably fucking her, and the thump, thump, thump of a bedpost hitting the wall.
A shadow shifted under the door and I pushed to my feet with adrenaline setting my senses alight, moving silently as I pressed my back to the wall beside it, keeping the knife poised in my grip.
I went to the coldest place inside me, waiting for the attacker to make his move, knowing that I might have to wet my hands in blood tonight to stay alive, though if I did that, I had no fucking idea how I was going to get out of this snake pit alive.
The door handle twisted and my muscles flexed in preparation of my next move. As the door pushed open and the scent of herbs and mint sailed under my nose, I grabbed hold of the arsehole standing there, slamming my hand over his mouth and yanking him back against my chest, my blade to his throat.
“Only a fool would try to sneak up on a royal guard,” I hissed in his ear, but he shook his head violently, holding up a metal pot in his hand to show it to me.
He was a small man, not much of a threat, and as I couldn’t see any visible weapon on him, I slid my hand free from his mouth to let him speak.
“I’m the healer here,” he stammered. “My name’s Cumble. Hagot Cumble. I brought a balm for your wounds.”
“He’s fine, Cassius,” Drake muttered groggily from his bed.
“Why would you bring anything for me?” I hissed, keeping my knife against his throat. “That could be poison for all I know.”
“It’s my Affinities,” Cumble said quickly. “I see a wound, I have to heal it. I tried to go to sleep, but all I could think about was that swollen, bulging burn on your side. It’s getting infected. It’s haunting my dreams. I have to heal it, let me heal it or you’ll die.”
I pressed my lips together, considering his words. The palace healer was like this too, whenever I’d been sent to her by Marik, the old girl had always acted as if healing me was quenching a thirst in her which I couldn’t understand.
“He’ll just scratch at the door like a stray cat if you don’t let him do it,” Drake said.
“And can you hurry up about it because you’re making a lot of noise and if I don’t get my beauty sleep, my face is gonna suffer, and if my face suffers, I’ll punch a few more holes in you with my own knife and Hagot there will cry when he can’t fix you. ”
“Fine,” I gave in, releasing the man and patting him down for weapons – which he seemed to enjoy a little too much as he watched me with a giddy grin on his face and I wondered if the guy was cracked.
I got a better look at him as I stood back, his grey hair pulled up into a long ponytail and his wispy goatee almost entirely white.
His skin was oddly smooth without any imperfection upon it, and I guessed that had to do whatever balms he used on himself.
“Satisfied?” he asked, wetting his pale lips and I nodded. “Lay down and take your tunic off.”
I did as he asked, resuming my place on the floor as he lit a lantern beside the bed and Drake groaned, curling in on himself and tugging a pillow over his head to hide from the light.
Cumble suddenly swung a leg over me, straddling my hips and I stiffened in alarm, trying to get up, but he shoved my shoulders down with surprising strength, opening his tin and flicking the lid off. “Shh. Stay down there, big man, this is my process.”
He dipped his fingers into the green mixture, humming as he swayed from side to side and I tried to fight a grimace at the skinny man rocking over my very flaccid cock while he fingered that fucking pot.
“Look, I think I’ll be fine,” I tried, about to shove him off when he placed his fingers on the bright red burn on my side, making me curse as he started to rub the ointment in.
The pain started to diminish almost instantly and I gaped at him in surprise.
His humming turned to a chant as he praised the old goddess of healing for her gifts in a warbling tone and I glanced over at Drake to see if he was disturbed by this, but the arsehole was still pretending to sleep.
“Come into this man, oh goddess Luciet, come deep and come hard!” Hagot cried, tipping his head back and my nose wrinkled as he added more of the paste to the infected wound and fuck if it didn’t feel so much better.
I was torn between disgusted and thankful because I hadn’t realised quite how bad the injury was getting until now, my training making me block out the pain with every mental trick I’d ever been taught.
“Oh, sweet goddess of health and wellbeing,” he moaned like he was having an orgasm, rocking his hips faster left and right as his eyes fell closed and he slapped more paste onto my wound more violently.
“Um – Drake?” I called.
“It’s his process,” Drake mumbled back as the healer’s chanting grew to a high-pitched song that was almost operatic.
“Bathe this man in your healing juices!” he wailed. “Channel your juices through me and into him with your huge, fertile probe of life!”
“I think it’s good now,” I tried, but he kept going, rocking like a madman over my hips as I just stared on in dismay, shocked into inaction.
“Heal this man with your bountiful rod of longevity!” He opened his mouth wide, his tongue flicking up and down at speed as he made a noise like a demented songbird, then he fell over me, raking his hands down my chest and twisting my nipples hard in opposing directions.
“Ow – you motherfucker!” I grabbed him, about to throw him off when he slapped me across the face and shoved his fingers into my mouth, still caked in the minty mixture.
“Swallow down my healing broth, take my sweet life juice into your throat!” he commanded as I gagged.
“Do it, mate,” Drake urged. “He won’t stop until you swallow.”
I grimaced before swallowing the mixture he’d shoved into my mouth, almost certain I heard Drake laugh under his breath, the noise swiftly muffled by the pillow.
Cumble’s fingers continued to dip between my lips and I shoved his hand away.
“Enough!” I barked, throwing him off of me and he leapt to his feet, prancing over me, back and forth like a baby deer, his tunic flapping open and giving me a view straight up it to his hairy balls which were bouncing rampantly between his thighs. “Ah, for the love of the Fallen,” I cursed.
“Rise, my well-endowed royal man! Rise!” Cumble yelled and I growled, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and pointing to the door.
“Get out,” I barked and he giggled like a child before prancing out the door and swinging the door shut behind him.
“You just got Cumbled,” Drake laughed raucously and I scowled as I picked up my tunic, feeling violated as I pulled it back on and laid down on my makeshift bed on the floor.
“Did you let him do that shit to you whenever you get wounded?” I demanded angrily.
“Fuck no,” Drake laughed louder. “I just take his medicine and tell him to fuck all the way off. I thought you’d enjoy the full experience though.”
I aimed a punch at his arm and he laughed as he rolled to avoid it, his amusement almost making me laugh too until I remembered the view of that weird motherfucker’s ball sack and grimaced again.
At least my wound felt better though, but I had to wonder if continuing to live had been worth the mental scarring.