Star Blood |✔|

33| MOVEMENT

Movement.

There is movement within his body now- the King slowly resurfacing and becoming awake.

I do not move as he lets go, finally releasing me.

He falls off the bed, showing a moment of weakness on his part as he pushes himself back up.

I watch his stumbled steps as he made his way to the door like he was intoxicated off the blood he had devoured.

It's not until he closes himself off- cutting from my sight his bare body- that I allow a single sob to leave me.

My cry is quickly shattered though, by another.

I bury my head in the sheets as I listen to Saint's screams that quickly turn to moans.

I couldn't.

I felt a pressure suffocate me.

All at once, I found it hard to breathe.

Like those arms were still caging me within.

Still trapping the air from my body.

They came now, in short, scattered bursts as I tried- tried- tried- and failed, to get my breathing under control.

He could hear.

I need to keep myself together.

He could hear me and then come back.

I could almost picture that lazy smile in place as he watched me break.

No. No, the Temple had prepared me for this.

The Moon had chosen me.

I couldn't fail them.

I dig my nails into the palms of my hands, letting the pain bring me back to reality.

The heat from the repressors seared my skin- pulsing at the stress I felt.

I sat in the darkness, listening to Saint. Some part of me felt connected to her. Even though I knew the venom had reclaimed her mind and gained possession over that golden lioness- I wanted some comfort to be found now that she knew I laid just on the other side of the wall.

My body hurt from the venom that it had been exposed to.

I found my eyes dropping from the pure exhaustion.

But he might come back.

He might open that door and think that waiting was not something he wanted.

That he really didn't need to hear me beg for him.

He could just take it himself.

I stumble out of the bed and curl my body in front of the dim fire- the embers just glowing and fading within the ash.

It provided no warmth.

It was a habit now of mine, to stroke the Moon Stone.

To think of it as my own, and pretend that I had brought my own stone with me to the palace of nightmares.

"Jonaus," I whisper my words to the stone, thinking of the last time I had seen him. Bloody hands. A hacking cough.

"May the Moon watch over you...."

My words fade into the darkness as I drift away to dream of nightmares and watching red eyes.