Arthur
I changed into something less ragged, less covered in sweat and blood before heading to Reshina’s room. It was late—past two in the morning, but I just needed to see that her fever wasn’t raging again before I’d be able to get some sleep.
I knocked softly on the door before entering. Piffle jerked awake in the chair at her bedside, quickly bolting from it to meet me at the door. I entered quietly, shutting the door behind me. Reshina was asleep in her bed, but still, which was a good sign.
“How is she?”
“She is better. She was awake two hours ago. Drank some broth and got washed up. She was asking about you.”
“Did she say she was in pain?”
He shook his head quickly. “No, but I doubt she would have admitted it if she was.” He glanced over his shoulder at the bed where she turned.
“That bite would have killed any other. We’ve never seen what the Beast’s bite can do to anything but a wild animal.
” His eyes crinkled in a wide grin. “I believe you saved her, Master.”
“I’m also the one who almost killed her.”
“Well,” he started, gathering the half-finished gown draped across the settee. “You did warn her about the Beast. And you are not him. So my reasoning stands more true than yours. You saved a Goddess’s life. That’s got to be good for something in your future.”
I sighed heavily, following the pull to her side.
I fell into the chair by her bed, looking over the wound.
In three days it had healed quickly, but the puncture wounds remained, albeit shriveled into mere pinpricks.
Disappointment settled into my chest. She wouldn’t need me like she had for the past few days when I’d kept her fever at bay.
She wouldn’t need my mouth on her any longer, and I was a bastard for wanting her to.
“There’s a bit of bread and butter on the cart if you’re hungry. I’d like to get some rest myself before the day begins if you’ll stay—”
“Go. I’ve got it from here. Thank you, Piffle.”
“Her gown,” he said, patting at another bundle of fabric I hadn’t noticed. “If she would like to dress before I’ve returned.”
I waved him away, running my fingers through my hair.
After he left, I crawled into the bed.
I’d get one more night, Goddess help me.
I settled in beside her, careful not to jostle her too much and wake to what I was sure would be the wrath of a Goddess.
Her skin had paled in the three days she’d fought the Beast’s bite, but as I brought my arm back around her waist again, pulling her to me, a flush of pink rose on her cheeks.
I huffed heavily out of my nose, warming her skin and she hummed in return, still in her dreams where I could not get to her.
“Reshina,” I whispered softly, placing my mouth over her wound one more time. Her body turned into mine as my lips traced over her skin.
She’d hate me come morning.
Hate I could handle.
Losing her, I couldn’t and never would.
I wondered, watching her chest rise and fall, if she dreamt of her life. Of her past lovers tracing their mouths over her skin, or if it was me she saw in her dreams.
I was a man who’d been intrigued by her story for decades.
And now, I was a man obsessed.
And obsession was the exact reason my death was the best option. For both our sakes.