Capítulo 72: 72 - Fragile Trust (2,9 k words)
Skaris's POV
I planned to send the tiger cub to its tribe and the rootless cub to Dear, but Dear asked me if I could take care of it until she was done dealing with Vick. I decided to postpone my original plan, but now that Bart and Mitchell were here, they could look after the cubs in my stead.
'Dear, I would like to leave the cubs in their care. I believe they will take good care of them in my absence,' I sent her my request.
'I trust your judgment,' was her response. She wasn't surprised when I revealed that Bart brought his cubs to the desert, only asked me to make them stay in the oasis until they find a safer place.
'Mitchell has been a great help; his people have provided us with supplies and building materials. He cares a lot about the cubs and the nursery,' I tried to say a few good words for the scorpion king, "Are you sure you don't want to keep him?'
'No,' her answer was immediate. 'Vick thinks he is not a good punching bag, and I think so too," she said, sounding tired, her voice hoarse as if she was sick.
I felt my spousal imprint burn, and my heart shrunk painfully, 'Dear, what is happening to you? I can sense that you're in pain. Did you hurt yourself again?"
'Not really,' she said before the line cut off.
I activated the spousal imprint and heard Curtis roars and hiss in the background, followed by Vick's angry growls, "Don't move! You'll tear your wounds!"
Their words made my chest clench painfully, and a feeling of helplessness settled deep inside of me. I heard some struggles as they tried to contain her. Her breathing was ragged and fast. Her emotions were growing darker. She was in pain, yet she didn't let anyone ease it.
I smiled bitterly. She wanted to restore her body to its original state and said her method was faster than crystals and emeralds, and that's the reason she was using it. Yet nobody believed her, and I could tell it was taking a toll on her. The image of her covered in blood, her flesh ripped apart, and her body torn open flashed in my mind.
I couldn't bear the sight. I leaned over and retched, coughing. Just thinking about her being hurt was enough to drive me crazy, and the thought of her enduring this kind of torture was more than I could stand.
"I knew beastmen couldn't stay away from their females for long, and it's even worse for the rootless," I heard Mitchell's voice, and it snapped me out of my trance. He was following me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I continued to walk deeper into the desert, looking for the quicksand.
"Wait," Mitchell called, "That's the opposite direction of the jungle. If you miss your female, you should go there instead."
"I'm going to see Muir," I said, knowing I didn't have to explain my reasons to him.
Mitchell frowned, "What about the cubs?"
"Please take care of them and yourself until I return," I said. He looked like he was going to protest, so I added, "I can help you with some of your duties so you can focus on raising the cubs. How about that?"
"You want to do what?" Mitchell laughed in amusement, "Only a King can rule the Flame City. Are you a King?" he eyed the sleeves that covered my stripes, "The Flame City has a strict level system divided into four levels. The Beasts, who enter the Flame City for the first time, are considered low-level beasts, no matter how many animal stripes they have. You must win at least three matches in the combat pit to raise one rank. If you don't fight and win, you don't have a right to talk."
He told me that Muir had already reached the highest Supreme level, and according to the rules, he could get his own territory and abode. But instead of that, Muir requested a meeting with his father.
"Don't tell me you want to kidnap my father next," Mitchell said jokingly.
"Why not? We think Dear would like to receive him as a gift more than you," I said, and he choked. I wasn't joking. We were looking for a suitable punching bag for Dear, and Mitchell just didn't fit our criteria.
"So I was really meant to be just a gift for her?" Mitchell mumbled, "And because she got bored of me, you guys decided to return me?"
"The Flame City needs a ruler, and it would be best if it were someone she approves of," I explained.
She told me that Flame City didn't necessarily have to be torn down from its existence. Rather than have the rootless roam free and cause destruction, she'd prefer them to run to the Flame City and kill each other there (or she would if she was allowed to stay there).
The problem was the scorpions' communal lifestyle, which wasn't solitary like the snakes', which posed a threat. Most beastmen could deal with the rootless, but not scorpions that could burrow deep in the ground, use poison gas, and have hallucinogenic stingers. They could live without food and water for moons, and their bodies were adapted to withstand extreme weather conditions, especially during winter when many beastmen were hibernating.
Dear was a bit shocked when Mitchell revealed their numbers. With patience and right tactic, they would have easily defeated the Beast City and turned it into their breeding ground.
So why haven't they done it yet?
"Something is keeping them busy with other things, like keeping the rootless under check and the mining for soul stones."
"Or their King sucks at leading them."
After meeting Mitchell, she concluded that it was all the three things above and more. Mitchell seemed to care about building a better relationship between the scorpions and the kidnapped females, or at least he was curious enough to do these types of experiments with them.
"For someone who lived his whole life in such a shit hole, it's an admirable thing to want."
If scorpions could be talked into behaving like other beastmen, then they already would. Most of them didn't have the capacity for kindness and empathy. Their roots lay deep in their genes and their history. Nature made them malevolent, and their society was built upon this fact.
"You can force people to act and think like the rest, but you can't force them to feel like the rest."
No matter how often they were told to treat the females gentler and kinder, they wouldn't get it. Just like Rosa, she wouldn't learn her lesson and would keep on harming people around her.
Scorpions like Mitchell were rare, not the norm.
I glanced at Mitchell, who was accompanying me to the quicksand. If only he knew what Dear spoke about him behind his back, would his views about her be the same?
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Curtis POV
Somewhere on an abandoned island...
We brought her here in the middle of nowhere. After her last incident, we were afraid she'd hurt herself again. The place was remote and safe enough, so Vick and I built a tent and made her to reflect on her actions.
Gold would bring us fresh water and inform us about the canal's progress. But one day, she suddenly disappeared. When we came to her tent, there was nothing there. She just vanished with a note.
"Don't look for me. I will return and cure Vick's condition before he loses his life. Until then, keep feeding him clear crystals or emeralds. Don't look for my father's help, or I'll never return. Just trust me."
"FUCK!!!" Vick roared, his body shaking, and the veins on his face and neck bulged, "I should have known that she was carrying a gastropod on her body this whole time!"
I stared at him, feeling the same. Anger and desperation filled my whole being. I punched the ground, and a fist-shaped crater appeared beneath me.
Vick grabbed his head, and I could feel his agitation, "I don't want your cure, you damn woman! I don't want anything from you. I just want you!" he yelled, and I could tell his rage was getting the best of him, "I don't want to end up like your fucking sisters!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked, a cold sensation washing over me.
"Her sisters would have died a long time ago from old age. She turned them into vampires, and that's why they stay beautiful and young, but the price they have to pay is to drink blood to quench their thirst. It's a curse, not a cure," he said, breathing unevenly.
Vick began to sweat profusely and fell to his knees, his condition worsening. His voice cracked, and he said weakly, "As the one who turned them, she can also command them and control—"
He collapsed before he could finish his words.
My eyes widened, and my stomach churned.
She appeared by Vick's side out of nowhere, clearly confused as if she didn't expect to be here.
"Did you just summon me with your spousal mark?" she mumbled under her nose. She was sitting on the ground only in her underwear, and her body was covered in bloody lashes.
"Who did this to you?" I snarled, anger burning in my chest, but the fire quickly died out when I realized that she disappeared again.
I fed Vick a crystal and waited impatiently, hoping she would return.
I sat there, gritting my teeth until Gold appeared.
He didn't ask anything and only gave me the usual supplies, but when he saw Vick's condition and her absence, he frowned. "He will feel better in water, so you should put him in the sea," he said, and when I didn't move, he did it himself. He created a makeshift pool and put Vick in it.
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Whenever Vick woke up, his spousal imprint would summon her to his side. And, like always, she would be in a worse state than before. Eventually, he became too weak and ended up in a coma-like sleep. He no longer woke up. I had to feed him a clear crystal every few hours to sustain his life force.
I returned to the tent and curled up, unable to take a rest. My fear and distress have probably activated the spousal imprint because, this time, she appeared by my side.
"Who did this to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly, afraid that she'd disappear again.
"You already know," she said, her voice cold.
"Why would you hurt yourself like this?" I asked, and she sighed.
"I already told you," she said, still not looking at me.
I quickly offered her a crystal, but she rejected it, "Save it for Vick."
I hugged her body, barely hanging onto my sanity before I passed out, "Please, don't leave."
"I told you to trust me," she mumbled weakly, and the sound of her voice sent me a stab of pain, "You could have been spared from seeing this shit."
· · ─────── · ⊱❈⊰· ─────── · ·
A few hours later...
I shook my head in panic, trying to clear my vision. I saw the knife which she used to stab her leg the last time she appeared by my side. She was now cutting a deep line from her thigh to her knee. It wasn't just her leg. She was bleeding from head to toe.
I swallowed back a whimper and tried to pull myself closer to her, afraid she would leave me again, "Please don't leave, I'll listen," I begged.
"I'm going to repeat myself. I need to restore my body to its prime state," she said, her voice sounding distant, "And the fastest way is to break it down and let it reconstruct. If you don't plan to help me, then get lost," she hissed, "You are just getting in my way and making it worse."
"I'll help you," I pleaded, "Please, tell me what I should do."
She sat on my lap, her head down and her long hair hiding her face, but the smell of her blood was stronger than ever, "Make me bleed until there's no blood in my veins."
Her words pierced right through my chest, "Cut me and make me anew. Once my cells have decomposed, they'll become new cells, and my body will reconstruct. That's how it works. I have to go through this process to fully regenerate."
My stomach was tied up in knots. It was painful to breathe. I was barely holding myself together, yet she wanted me to hurt her more. This method was too painful and brutal.
"I will be fine. Just trust me... at least once," she said. She was leaning against my chest, and I was hugging her, letting her bleed out all over me. Even though she didn't show it, her body did. She was losing consciousness and was becoming weaker; her body was trembling, and her hands were cold.
I closed my eyes and buried my face in her hair.
"Just a little longer," she murmured, pointing at the old wound on her leg that began to close up, "And it will all be over."
A growl escaped my lips as I used her knife to cut a line across her calf. I would do anything to keep her alive and by my side. Even if I had to hurt her.
She winced and clenched her fists. I felt her tense up against me and then relax. Her breath came out ragged and strained, her eyes were closed, and her brows knitted together in pain.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, stroking her back soothingly. I wanted to make her feel better, not worse.
She looked exhausted, yet she still had the strength to grip my hand and press the blade against her stomach next, "Keep going," she said, coughing, her voice raspy, "I'll be okay."
"Stay awake, please," I murmured, "Stay with me."
"Do you remember our first kiss? I made you bleed first, then you bit me and made me bleed with our second kiss," she said, cupping my cheek and kissing my lips, "But I guess, third time is the charm," she murmured with a chuckle.
Her voice was weak and slurred, "If someone out there can do this to me, it's you. You are used to seeing your ancestors hurt and kill their females, don't you? Take advantage of their experience and let them be useful for once. I know you won't go down the same path of madness as they did because I won't die... I can't die."
My hand was shaking uncontrollably, and I was growling and hissing in frustration. I didn't know how many times I had cut, and at which places. I was afraid of counting. I only knew the places that weren't injured were where her spousal imprints were. She was bleeding too much, and the amount of her blood was enough to drown us both.
I tried my best not to panic. I needed to trust her. She asked me for help for the first time, and I couldn't abandon her.
"You've done well, Curtis," she said, soothing my heart.
Her head rolled off to the side, and she went silent, her hand dropping and her eyes closing. I stopped breathing and pressed my hand against her chest. Her heart was still beating, and she was still breathing.
She was still alive, and I noticed that it became harder and harder to draw blood out of her wounds, and they were healing faster.
I didn't let her go and stayed awake, listening to the beating of her heart. I was too afraid to fall asleep and miss a moment.
I looked down at her face and brushed her hair away from her cheek. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. It wasn't working. The tears flowed down my face.
If there was someone out there who could do this to her, it was me.
Muir wouldn't be able to even break a strand of hair on her head, not to mention cutting her flesh. He would only prolong the torture, like I did initially, by constantly summoning her to my side. Skaris had enough emotional baggage to carry on his own. He didn't need her adding more burden.
Vick wanted to protect her from harm. Her father's lies, which were always rooted in truth, influenced his beliefs. Even though he loved her, he couldn't afford to trust her wholeheartedly. She was manipulative and could twist his feelings and use his love against him, so he had to be careful and think twice before allowing her to do anything.
Yaya also couldn't trust Vick wholeheartedly. If she allowed him to control her, she would be a prisoner of her love.
I was different. I wasn't manipulative, nor was I a liar. I was always straightforward and honest, and she knew it. She didn't have to be wary of my actions and motives. My imprint on her tongue reminded us to always be honest with each other.
"Curtis isn't my pet."
"I've chosen him as my SOLE mate."
"Hey! Aren't you supposed to be my mate?!"
"Why are you doing nothing?! Why are you trusting his words over mine?!"
"I specifically told you not to listen to him, yet you do exactly that!"
"Does the spousal imprint mean nothing to you?!"
I didn't listen to her.
I doubted her and believed Vick instead, which caused her to close up to me again.
We forced her to take in more mates than she had wanted.
If we hadn't bound her to us with our spousal imprints, she could have just stopped her heart from beating for a while once she got rid of the drugs in her body. She wouldn't have to think about turning us into rootless if her heart stopped beating and she died. She wouldn't have to go through all this torture. She could have revived and restored her body much more efficiently.
I hugged her tighter and nuzzled her cheek.
I'm sorry.
I'm truly sorry.
I won't doubt you again.
I won't listen to anyone over you.
I'll always trust you.
I wrapped her up and carried her to the ocean to wash the blood off. I held her in the shallow water. After a week, her wounds began to close up before the blood even had a chance to leave her body. She focused on regenerating and didn't waste energy on anything else.
After another week, she suddenly woke up and gasped.
Her eyes shot open, and she stared straight into mine.
They were no longer colorless.
They were red.
Like mine.
╔═══ Author's note ════╗
Yaya is lucky she managed to get to the stage where her wounds healed fast enough to be caught by the naked eye before she let Curtis finish the job, or RIP his mind.😔
At least we know why YY's sisters don't age. 😏
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