“The great king has returned!”
“Darragh!”
“Darragh!”
The crowd kept chanting.
CHAPTER TWO
FRID
The bright light of the torches guided the way to the castle and slashed the pitch black sky above. I hurried ahead of Rowan and Theo, opening the door for them as they carefully carried Victor up the stairs. Even in the dim light of the few candles, Victor looked too pale, his skin was nearly the color of the storm clouds outside. His light hair was matted with blood and grime. His flying suit was ripped. Once again, he jumped in front of a crawler, protecting me. He never respected me enough to think that I could handle an enemy on my own. A sudden flash of irritation flared in my mind, but I did not let it flourish. There will be time to yell at him about his behavior when he was better, but for now, I had to make sure he survived.
We made it all the way to his room and Rowan and Theo placed him on the bed.
“How are you?” Rowan hesitated, looking at me.
“Good. Thanks,” I responded.
“I mean . . . um . . . Do you need anything?” Rowan rubbed the back of his neck.
I knew both brothers wanted to check on their families in the valley. They were probably beside themselves with worry.
“I’m good. Go, help the others,” I said.
“Later,” Rowan said.
Theo only nodded and both of them stumbled toward the door nearly colliding with each other and the next moment, only Victor and I remained in the room. I did not waste any more time and lit several candles, moving them closer to Victor.
I stepped toward the bed, surveying Victor’s once strong, agile body that now looked broken and lifeless. There was no time for feeling depressed about it. Slowly, and with extreme care, I took off his boots. His left foot was soaked with blood. Somehow he managed to injure his shin and the blood poured freely inside his boot.
I moved to a stack of folded towels next to a pitcher of clean water and brought them to the side table. Carefully, I pulled his flying suit off. Moving as gently as I could, I wiped the blood off his skin. Working from his neck to his chest, I uncovered more hidden injuries on his body.
If he only knew that I was taking his clothes off, he would shower me with inappropriate jokes, but his lips were sealed. His breaths were so soft, barely distinguishable. His skin appeared sallow, lifeless. With every new wound I came across, I clenched my teeth harder until my jaw started to hurt.
How could anyone stand this amount of pain without complaining? He continued to fight when he was already waypast his limit. The crawler’s bite was the last injury he got, but I had no idea about all the other ones he had simply endured.
Why didn’t he go back to the castle when he had the chance? Why did he stay with me?
A flash of anger rose somewhere in the pit of my stomach. He was always so careless about everything, never taking things seriously. But how could he treat his own wellbeing with such indifference?
“Frid,” Victor called.
“I’m here. I’m here,” I whispered, leaning over him.
“Frid . . . safe?”
“Yes, we’re in the castle.” I placed my hand on his shoulder when he tried to sit up. “Don’t worry. Just rest,” I said, cleaning the burn on his stomach.
“Don’t . . . want you . . . hurt,” he whispered.
“I need to get more temple water. I’ll be back,” I said.
“No.” He suddenly appeared agitated.
“I’ll be back in no time.”
“No. Stay.”
