Chapter 27 - Sapphires and Blood #2
He pulled a needle and a length of thread from the pouch, then grabbed a bottle of clear liquid off another shelf before plopping back down in the chair. My eyes once again fell mercifully to the laceration, though there were plenty of other things to look at.
“Are you squeamish?” he asked.
When I glanced up at him, I was met with a devilish smirk. If he’d been any other man, I might have been frustrated with his teasing, but he wasn’t. He was the Frozen Prince Callan. And I wasn’t expecting this level of calm from someone about to stitch up his own wound.
“I fought in the same war you did,” I said with far more arrogance than I’d originally intended.
“Of course you did,” he said, the smirk turning into a full smile that melted my heart.
How? How was this the same frost elf who had killed a human for spreading rumors? He looked away, the smile slowly fading from his lips as he threaded the needle.
He rolled his shirt sleeves so they’d be out of the way, his gorgeous forearms far too distracting.
Those arms...was it bad I wondered how it would feel to be restrained by them?
He poured some of the clear liquid over his thigh, sucking a breath between his teeth, then used a piece of cloth to clean the blood from around the area.
“I can put on a pair of gloves and—”
“No.” He shook his head before pushing the needle through his skin.
I sat helpless as he hunched over and stitched up his own leg. Frankly, I was completely worthless and impressed by his ability to handle pain. He winced only once when he placed the first stitch. Ten stitches later, the wound was closed, and he met my gaze.
“That should hold me together.” I couldn’t look away from his lavender eyes, lost in their depths as he stared back. “I should have the healer prepare a poultice.”
What was wrong with me? I should have gone for the poultice while he’d stitched himself, but instead I’d stupidly sat and watched while I did nothing.
I stood, determined to help in some way.
“I’ll get it for you. You stay put.” I stepped away, but the ribbon around my ribs pulled painfully, stopping me in my tracks.
“Wait...a moment,” Callan said, his voice strained with desperation.
I turned back, not expecting the view of him standing with a hand stretched in my direction in nothing but a shirt and his undershorts.
The anguish on his face was real. My heart raced in my chest as I stepped close enough he could reach out and take my hand if he wanted.
He could freeze me into a block of solid ice in a split second, and there would be nothing I could do to stop him.
Yet, I craved his touch like I craved the warmth of the sun.
It was a need that burned through me like a roaring fire, and I hated it.
I took yet another step closer. So close I had to tilt my chin to look at him. Unable to look away. Unable to move farther from him.
He squeezed his eyes closed as if to clear his thoughts. “I...thank you—”
“Of course,” I said before he could finish. “But I didn’t do anything.”
I shook my head at my stupidity. What was I doing? I knew he couldn’t touch me. Not to mention he was the fucking Prince of the Elves, and I was a thrall. What could possibly possess me to think I could be so familiar with him?
“We should test the sapphire.” His words washed over me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
The sapphire.
I’d completely forgotten.
––––––––
Callan squeezed the stone in his fist, pale lavender light leaking between his fingers. The pig had squealed and run away, much like the first time when he’d tested the amethyst. He glanced back at me, his face mask hiding a grin I could see glittering in his eyes.
He stalked after the pig, reaching with both hands this time, the sapphire pinched between his thumb and his index finger. No blinding white light, just his hands pressed to the back of the pig. He stepped back, his head snapping in my direction.
Two points of contact.
The amethyst had failed at this point.
“It worked.” I hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
He pulled the mask down from his face, revealing a look of absolute shock. “It worked.”
With careful steps, he approached me as my feet moved on their own. We came together in the middle of the stable, only inches between us, our eyes locked before his slipped to my lips. Warmth crept into my cheeks before plunging into my core.
Why was I so drawn to this man? I was a lowly human—the spoils of a bloody war. He was the son of my grave enemy and the man ultimately responsible for my enslavement.
And I had never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him.
I wanted his hands in my hair. I wanted his lips on my skin. I wanted to taste the cold truth of him.
I pushed the feeling away, taking a massive step back.
I needed space. Even if he couldn’t kill me instantly with the sapphire still clutched in his fist, there was no place in this world where I could or should be so close to him.
He was quite literally the symbol of cold.
The one thing I hated more than anything else.
And I was the fire that should melt and destroy him.
He swallowed hard. “I...”
I took several steps back from him, my eyes still reluctant to leave his face.
“I should go,” I said as I turned and fled.