Page 78 of Blood Weaver
My mouth snapped shut. I was getting angry and reacting in a way that the simple healer Leila from the Central Plains wouldn’t.
“I don’t believe you,” I scoffed. “You made all of that up to make them look like—”
“Like bad people? Because theyare, Leila.” His eyes hardened. “Ten years ago, they dispatched an envoy to Valoria to discuss a trade for the princess, but the King and Queen of Valoria refused to give up their only daughter. Hence, the Crimson Clan’s alliance with us to attack Valoria and kidnap her.”
“They … they went to Valoria to ask for the princess?” I asked, my mouth hanging open in shock.
Mykal nodded. “This isn’t common knowledge,” he whispered. “So keep it between us.” He winked and leaned against his desk. “Too bad we couldn’t find Princess Lyanna when we invaded Valoria. Had I been the Commander back then, I would not have failed.”
I snorted and mumbled, “Right,” then stood from the bed and began to pace. “Let’s say I believe you,” I started. “Why does the Crimson Clan rely so heavily on Ronan to complete this prophecy?” I remembered Silas’s words—The fate of the Crimson Clan depends on Ronan.
Mykal chuckled. “Ah, I’d rather keepthatlittle tidbit to myself,” he said, offering a secret smile. “Let’s just say that Princess Lyanna’s maidenhood is vital for the resurrection of the Demon Fox.”
“You mean she has to be a virgin?” I asked with furrowed brows.
He grinned. “Yes, but it must be taken by Ronan.”
My eyes widened until I was sure they would pop out of their sockets. My virginity needed to be taken … by Ronan? Did he know about this the other day when we almost …
I felt sick. Beyond sick. Lightheaded, I held on to the headboard to stabilize myself.
Mykal frowned. “Are you okay, Leila?” he asked sincerely.
I gasped for air as panic ensued. “I—I need—air,” I choked out.
Mykal came toward me, gripping my face with both hands and tilting my head back to look up at him. “Breathe, Leila,” he whispered to me. “Calm your racing heart and breathe. Don’t make me use other methods …”
I shook my head and my eyes welled with unshed tears. “I—I can’t!”
“Damnit,” he murmured before smashing his lips onto mine.
I sucked in one lungful of air before it was cut off. As his soft lips melded with mine and his tongue snaked into my mouth, I was lost, my panic momentarily distracted by the intensity of his kiss.
It was both desperate and commanding, as if he was trying to pull the panic from me through our joined lips. My mind spun until I couldn’t comprehend the warmth, sensation, and sheer audacity of Mykal's actions. The juxtaposition of fear, anger, and confusion tangled my thoughts in a storm of emotions.
When he finally pulled away, I was in a daze. The world seemed to regain its focus slowly and I stumbled backward, touching my lips with trembling fingers. “Why …?” My voice trailed off and the weight of the situation pressed down upon me.
Mykal's expression was inscrutable. Vulnerability lingered behind his eyes, which seemed at odds with his earlier aggression. “When the mind can't be controlled, distract it,” he answered lightly, trying to maintain a nonchalant tone.
I tried to find my voice, my anger, my defenses, but all that came out was a feeble, “That wasn't a distraction. That was an invasion.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “You were panicking, and I couldn't think of a faster way to snap you out of it.”
“We'reenemies, Mykal. You can't just … kiss me when you feel like it!” I retorted. As my wits returned, my indignant fire nipped on its heels.
He stepped closer and locked his intense gaze onto mine. “Maybe that's the problem. Maybe we shouldn't be enemies.”
An eerie silence enveloped the tent and the weight of his words seemed to press down on both of us. The atmosphere was thick with unsaid words and unfinished business. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
He didn’t know it, but he would always be my enemy. Whether I was the healer Leila from the Central Plains or Princess Lyanna from Valoria. As long as he was Keldaran, I would always hate him.
I raised my chin defiantly. “Don’t ever do that again.” Spinning around, I primly sat back down on the edge of his bed.
I was ashamed that I’d lost control in enemy territory. And whether I wanted to admit it or not, Mykal was right: distraction was key. My panic attack was long forgotten.
I slumped and tried to remember the last night I spent with Ronan. He hesitated … He told me not to push him and I did anyway. Even so, he should have been upfront with me. He should have told me about this prophecy, if what Mykal said was true. The only way I would know for sure was if I managed to escape and confront him.
Mykal observed me keenly, likely trying to piece together my scattered emotions. His previously imposing figure was more subdued now, perhaps sensing the complexity of my internal turmoil. “You're thinking about him, aren't you?” His voice was barely above a whisper, carrying a mix of bitterness and resignation.
