After a while I put my gun back and removed myself from the general’s office to drag my steps to the living quarters. The anxieties of the day, along with the punches to my ribs that struggled to heal, prevented me from filling my lungs with the amount of air they needed, making me light-headed. Add the lack of food and the fact that I’d been asleep and dehydrated for a day, I took it as my sign to return and take care of myself, hoping that Galenor would follow shortly after.
The last thing I needed was to pass out somewhere in the corridors and cause a spectacle. I doubted everyone hadn’t already heard about my rampage and the gossip about me storming Milosh’s dinner party and forcing him out at gunpoint had spread like wildfire.
Back in the living quarters, I decided to halt the anxiety of waiting for a sound and hoping for the guards to return my subject in a fairly safe condition and take care of my own body. I took a long shower and removed the gauze that had been tightly wrapped around my torso and waist, I brushed my hair and added some iodine to the wound still throbbing at the back of my head.
I tried to tidy up the room as much as I could and prepared something to eat. I also made myself some ginger tea and drank two full bottles of water to help with hydration.
Then I lied on the bed with the door open and allowed myself to pass out while waiting for the slide of the kitchen door to announce the arrival of the man I seemed to care for a lot more than I thought.
I must have dozed off for a long while and let myself fall from consciousness and away from the pain.
“Hello, cupcake,” soft fingers caressed the side of my cheek, forcing my eyes wide open to spot vivid green blinking back at me.
“Galenor!” I jumped awake and wrapped my arms around his neck, carefully squeezing him to me, too afraid to joggle any wounds. “You’re back,” I exclaimed the obvious, making him chuckle.
Blood dripped from his dark shoulder-length locks that looked more like a crown around his head rather than damp hair, with big, dried chunks adorning the sides of his head. His shirt had been demolished by small cuts and a few sharper tears, turning it into rags.
But here he was, safe and back, at least for the time being.
“How are you?” I separated myself enough from him to scan him, to drag my eyes over the gore and the injuries and assess his state. I can’t say he looked good, though his beauty still managed to shine through all the damage inflicted on him, but he didn’t look bad either, as if he had already started to heal.
“I found the last root in the bag on the nightstand and made myself some tea. Thought I’d let you sleep for a while longer,” he explained, probably observing my surprise.
“When did you come back? And why didn’t you wake me?” I pushed his shoulder back admonishingly, then grabbed his face in my palms to study it up close. His brow had a massive cut, and the entirety of his jaw was bruised; the purple escaped through the dark stubble to make it look like the last shine of the horizon before nightfall.
The way he shifted in my arms told me that, same as in my case, his torso and ribs took the most damage, his muscles slowly shaking with exhaustion.
But he was healing, that’s what mattered.
He was back.
And in my arms.
I pressed a soft kiss on his lips, sealing our closeness and settling my heart. I had to feel more of him, I had to tell my eyes that what they were witnessing was true, that Galenor was really here.
He looked at me with surprise, with pride and…something new. Something that had locked between us both without announcing its visit. Something that planned to stay for a long while. Maybe forever. Galenor noticed it too, that new connection between us, like a bond that just snapped into place, making his eyes tremble with realisation. But, instead of celebrating the forge of energy, he leaned back, as if wanting to get away from me, pressing his lips together to avoid uttering something he might come to regret.
“How did you manage to get me released?” he asked instead, a new shade of curiosity lightening his features.
“I…” I shook my head, not at all prepared for the shift in conversation. Had I really done that? Did I really have enough power to make so many higher ranks release him?
“I don’t know,” I admitted and gave myself a moment to taste the small victory. To appreciate my own power. Then, I had to spill the truth. “I went ballistic after I woke up and threatened my commanding officer, so the general ordered to get you back.”
“You threatened a general?” he arched his brows in awe. And pride. Making me smirk a little.
“Yeah…I kinda…” I felt the need to scratch the back of my head in my sudden discomfort but did not realise my fingernails would choose to scratch the exact spot where my head wound laid. Making me shiver with a burst of pain rather than making me look cool in front of the faerie.
“What is happening?” His attention drilled into me at the observation. Before I had a chance to protest, Galenor grabbed the hand that tried to cover my wound and shifted me in place, forcing my neck to bend towards him so he could observe my injury. Judging by the drip of liquid falling down my neck, I had made the wound bleed and probably made it look more horrific than it actually was.
Galenor gasped at the sight of it, awareness waking in his tone. “Why didn’t you alert me of this new injury?” he snapped at me, as if I was somehow responsible for not making a list of everything that happened to my body since he was taken.
“New?” I frowned. “This isn’t new, it’s from yesterday, from those idiot guards.”
“Yes, I am aware!” He continued speaking as if he was scolding me like a child. “I know about your right shoulder, the last lower ribs on the left side, the bump in the torso and the bruised kidney. But why didn’t you tell me about your head?”
“Wow, okay control-freak,” I widened my eyes at him. Had he been creeping on my body while I slept? He must have, because that was a very accurate description of what I observed in the shower as well.
“Ellyana, we need to wash your wound,” Galenor stood and urged me to follow.
