Chapter 125 Don't Go
"Don't go." Killorn released a slight groan, covering his eyes with his knuckles, a grimace of pain flashing upon his rogue features. Even in the midst of his agony, he commanded attention with his rugged charisma. "Everything still hurts, Ophelia."
Ophelia panicked, leaning closer to her husband, palm resting upon his chest. She peered down at his chiseled face and body, marked with tales of victories. His broad shoulders were accentuated by his tunic, his soft lips pressed together.
"W-where," Ophelia demanded, pressing against him.
"Everywhere," Killorn complained, wrapping his freed arm around her. "I need you here with me."
Ophelia's heart softened as she worriedly nodded her head. "W-would you like more b-blood—"
"No, just you."
Ophelia blinked in confusion. "A-after I help the people downstairs—"
"I feel like I'm dying," Killorn continued, pulling her down upon him. She couldn't even protest, as he wrapped his entire body around hers in a tight cocoon. "Won't you honor your husband's last wishes?"
Ophelia's heart was heavy with concern, as she peered helplessly at him. His face etched with exhaustion, his brows pulled together, battling unseen demons. She reached out, her fingertips tracing his jawline, where an angry vein popped out.
"Oh give the lady a break," Reagan snorted. "This buffoon is not injured anymore, he simply used a different battle tactic."
"B-but Killorn isn't that kind of m-man…" Ophelia rebutted. Her tough and solemn husband never acted this childish and needy before. If she could give him her heart to heal him, she'd gladly do so.
"His injuries have stopped bleeding," Reagan observed, before muttering something under his breath, and waving a hand over the two of them.
Ophelia was shrouded with a soft breeze, and glanced down, to feel her sliced palm was healing by the second. She was amazed by Reagan's power, but also saw how quickly her blood dried on the spot. Was that what he used to fuel his spell just now?
"But very well," Reagan finished. "Your husband can hog you to himself while his wounded men cling onto their last shred of sanity before succumbing to their agony."
That was why Killorn needed to be downstairs. He was a solid foundation for his injured soldiers, a reminder that they'd made it out of the battles alive. He was an undeniable charisma, a presence that'd leave an irreversible mark upon all who crossed his path.
"My wife hasn't eaten all night," Killorn instructed Beetle. "Bring her supper upstairs and call for Janette to prepare her for bed."
"B-but I can help—"
"Help me by staying in our chambers, safe and pampered," Killorn interjected. "You need to be brimming with health tomorrow to reassure the women and children. Let me deal with the wounded."
Ophelia gritted her teeth, refusing to back down. "I-if you could just l-let me—"
"I did let you," Killorn warned, his tone lowering with ferocity. Her shoulders caved in. "I let you onto the battlefield and found you fainted on the floor with Layla, and your dress ripped, with dead beasts by your side. Not long, the monsters started dropping like flies, and you whispered to Layla some foolish parting words for me."
Ophelia froze. She didn't think she had said it out loud.
"So please," Killorn heaved. "For my sanity's sake, stay up here. You've done enough for tonight, Ophelia. Truly."
His words were supposed to be reassuring. His parting kiss on her cheeks should've warned her. Yet, when Ophelia sat down on the bed, she had never felt more alone. She peered at the floor, at her sliced palm already healed. She stared at her feet, even when Janette came with supper, then helped bathe the lady, and change her into a nightgown.
Ophelia's mind wandered to the monsters from tonight, how abnormal everyone made it seem. If only there was something she could do. If only, she had enough blood for everyone.
"My lady?" Janette called out when Ophelia jumped to her feet. Neil. Ophelia's eyes widened. Neil had taken ten bottles of blood out of her! "Q-quick, Janette dresses me to see everyone in the hospital. I-I have to tell Killorn something."
Janette's lips parted. She was on orders to tuck the lady into bed and make sure she wasn't getting herself in more shenanigans. "I can relay the message to Alpha—"
Ophelia already threw her closet doors open, pulling out a purple gown her husband must've ordered. "T-this one."
"As you wish, my lady," Janette softly sighed with a slight smile, knowing the lady can't be persuaded once she made up her mind. She could only do her best to support the lady from the sidelines, and that meant the quickest and simplest attire possible.
Before the two ladies knew it, Ophelia was already dashing down the stairs, a vision of lavender. She had an idea now and knew there must be a way to save everyone. She just hoped Killorn would agree.
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