DEMON CRY

9.

'Prince Damien?' 

She couldn't stop herself. She was shocked at her voice sounded. She no longer sounded like she was scared. It was surely different. His presence was not unsettling. There was something about the feral look in his eyes that drew her to him. She had never seen any sort of emotions in those eyes before. 

The beast's strange look turned hostile. He staggered back. A look of malice on her face. Amara couldn't understand what she had done to get such a reaction from him. She stepped toward him. 

He growled. His eyes had darkened. He looked dangerous. 

She pushed herself back against the wall. Lord Jeremiah and the Shalore were still there with the warriors. She wished they would step in. 

And her wish was answered. The other end of a spear hit the side of head hurling him to the floor. If it were a normal being, they would be knocked out cold. But the savaged Prince wasn't. There was a bruise but nothing more. Amara could feel the rage oozing from his pores as he glared in the general direction of the warriors. A thunderous growl erupted from the core of chest and resonated in the hallway. In a flash, he was racing in the same direction. 

Amara feared for the life of the warriors; Lord Jeremiah was there with them too. 

'Let's go!' the Supreme Sorceress whispered, grabbing her arm. Amara was too dumbfounded to protest. She let the Royal take her away. She couldn't take her eyes off the beast. The warriors were being careful but they were still hurting him. Something inside her flared into life. She felt rage against all those that were hurting him. She was shocked to find it directed at the sorceress too. 

They ambushed the beast. Lord Jeremiah landed a blow on his back. 

That broke her. The fire in her consumed her. She felt something leaving her fingertips; she didn't understand what it was, some sort of unseen force. She could feel it make its way to the Prince who had been ambushed by the battalion. 

The next thing she knew, the Prince had passed out cold.

She stopped short, so did the sorceress. By the look on their faces, Amara knew they were shocked. 

'What happened, Jeremiah?' the sorceress asked. 

The Third-In-Command looked at her, his eyes wide. 'I don't know.' He sounded bewildered. 'He just passed out without any blow.'

The sorceress walked toward the unconscious Prince. Amara followed her. 

'He has already started to heal.' 
She looked bewildered. Amara peered over her shoulder to see Prince Damien. He wasn't a beast anymore. He looked more like himself. His features were now serene. He looked exhausted and weak. It broke her heart to see him this way. 

His bruises were fading. 

'He's still breathing,' Lord Jeremiah stated. 'We will talk about this in the morning. The King and Queen must be informed of this strange incident. He has never passed out.' 

Amara was surprised to know that the 'strange incident' Lord Jeremiah referred to was not of the Prince turning into a hideous creature. 

'We'll watch him as a precaution.' 

'Alright,' the Shalore nodded. She turned to look at Amara, 'Try to get some sleep.'

Amara shook her head, 'What happened?' 

'Amara, it's late. You must sleep,' Jeremiah insisted. One of the bigger warriors carried the Prince and began to walk away. Lord Jeremiah followed him. Amara couldn't help herself. She followed him not caring that she disobeyed two Royals in one night. A part of her longed to know if the Prince will be alright. She wanted to ponder over it but she pushed it later. She wouldn't be sleeping anyway. 

They didn't say a word. They walked to the dungeons. It was dark and brooding. It was the worst place to keep a Prince, even in his hideous form. There was barely any natural light. There were only torches that were suspended on the cold stone walls. She was about to ask the Royals why they kept him here when Lord Jeremiah spoke, 'We keep him here because he prefers to be here.' 

Amara wondered why. 

It was one of the corner cells. It was neater than the others. There was a mattress on the cold floor; there was a tiny window with two bars across it. It was plain. The warrior carefully put the Prince on the mattress and stepped outside. Lord Jeremiah locked the door. 

She looked at the unconscious Prince for some time, cursing herself. She wasn't supposed to feel so protective toward the Prince. It was wrong. She shook her head and shut her eyes. She tried to ignore the looks the Royals were giving her. She was worried about the Prince. There were a lot of questions pounding inside her head. 

A lot of why's and how's. 

'You should sleep, Amara. It's a lot to take in,' the sorceress smiled kindly as she took her hands in hers,  'I'm sure you have a lot of questions but they will have to wait till tomorrow.'