Chapter 32 Anastasius
“Damnit, Eleos! Listen to me! I was planning to do exactly what you did.” Claeg snorted. Seeing suffering was never easy, and I had seen plenty of it as one of De Vita’s healers. Healing always went hand in hand with suffering. The memory of my own pain was faint, but I could still see it. I had stood by helplessly as draconis begged for death rather than my healing.
“When? When did it most benefit you? After they were Saved? What kind of freedom is that?” He lashed out verbally, pressing the tip of my blade into my neck. A bead of blood fell down to my collarbone. I wasn’t afraid of him. If it came down to it I could disarm him in an instant with the way he was trembling like a newborn babe. But if he wanted to open my neck from ear to ear, I’d let him. He was right. I had been keeping them until their release suited me.
I bit my lip, falling into silence. Waiting.
“Well?” Claeg pushed, nostrils flaring.
I shook my head. “They would have been released in time,” I answered, though I knew my words wouldn’t satisfy him. “We are on the same side, Eleos.” His violet eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything, instead waiting for me to speak. I caught my lip between my teeth. “My father’s days as De Vita are numbered. As soon as I have the spell to heal, I will enact the Sacred Challenge, and I will win.”
I searched Claeg for a hint of his thoughts, but his expression was guarded. I sighed. “Come. Let us return to my room so you can rest.” I stood to leave the torture chamber, leaving my back exposed to him. The sounds of him struggling to stand met my ears, but I suppressed the urge to offer him help he didn’t want. Perhaps he would thrust his blade into my back. I swallowed, the hair on my neck standing on end as I awaited my fate. Were we destined to be enemies? I didn’t want to be, but the decision was in his hands.
The sound of the blade clattering to the ground was quickly followed by Claeg grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him. My back was flush with his front, his mouth next to my ear. The position was intimate, making my heart race. He slipped his free hand into the pocket of my pants, his fingers a hair’s breadth from my cock. I sucked in a breath at the proximity.
“Eleos—” I began, my cock confused and craving his touch, but just as quickly as his touch came it left, clutching the container of salve I had summoned.
"You're wounded." My Selected pointed to the burn on my hand from the iron poker. Right. I had forgotten.
"I'll be fine." I shrugged. The wounds were minor compared to his.
"Stas," he whispered, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. I stiffened. "I see my stubborn Circulus attitude has worn off on you," he grated, earning him a snort from me. “Now let me help,” he insisted, making me sigh and glare at the offending hand. Reluctantly, I offered myself to him.
At first, he just stared at the wound as if he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was red and puffy, angry from the heat, even if I couldn’t feel it. Gently, he grasped my hand. The look in his eyes softened. Tension left his shoulders and his jaw slackened a little where he had been grinding his teeth. Claeg slowly coated my burn. The circular movements of his thumb were soft despite his anger.
Blood filled my mouth. I released my lip, unaware that I had been biting it. I wasn’t sure how to react. Claeg was so hot and cold—obviously warring with himself. I didn’t blame him. I had failed him over and over.
“You have so many scars…”
“They do not bring me pain, Eleos. I am immune to such a fleeting sensation,” I reminded him softly.
“I don’t understand.”
I frowned as Claeg’s thumb circled my bubbled skin. “My clan worships my brokenness. They don’t understand the toll a life without pain takes. When they see me, they see a survivor, not a victim of this dreadful curse. They see strength, but Eleos, I am weak.”