DEMON CRY

20.

The Crown Prince wasted no time when he heard the news. His heart longed to see her. The messenger had told her that the Royal Advisor was fine; it was Amara who was in a critical condition. He just had to see her. He didn't want to leave his warriors at the mercy of the greedy Duke, so he put one his most trusted Generals in charge. He limited the number of reports that his warriors had to present to the Duke. 

Duke Trent was not happy with the Prince's decision. He found it insulting. He decided to write a letter to the King about this matter. 

Prince Damien left in a few hours. Tracovia didn't need him for now. His warriors had pushed the demons away from their border. They would be fine, he told himself. There was someone he needed to see. He cursed himself for wanting to escape the castle. He cursed himself for his weakness. He should have protected her. He should've allowed Tyhane to handle Tracovia. 

He couldn't understand how demons could've breached his castle. He had already made up his mind. He was going to torture those demons. He was going to make them beg for death. He would show them no mercy. 

He wished Tracovia wasn't so far. He wouldn't have stopped if it weren't for the exhausted warriors. His Generals had insisted he took along with him a few warriors just in case. They didn't complain as they rode on, skipping their meals. He considered them and suggested they camp for the night. 

He couldn't sleep at all. It was just plain torture. He wanted to be with her immediately. He wanted to know if she was alright. He wished he hadn't yelled at her. He wished he hadn't pushed her away. He wished his mother hadn't wiped her memory of him. He smile faintly at the memory of their first meet when he had shared the bond chalice with her. He hadn't known what it was back then. He stared at the sky as he promised the stars that he would cherish her and that he would fulfil his duty toward her. 

He told himself that he would stop trying to use his curse to push everyone away. 

God, how much he wished she would get better. 

The night passed slowly. Under different circumstances, he would've enjoyed it. 

His warriors were up before the sun rose. Together, they packed their tents and resumed their travel. 

Another day and they reached. 

His parents received him at the front gate. 

'How are they?' He asked them while he dismounted his horse. His mother's eyes were red and his father looked tired. The King replied, 'Rowan is well. He is unscathed.' 

The Prince was glad. He paused before he whispered her name, 'Amara?' They couldn't look him in the eye. His heart cracked, 'Where is she? I need to see her!' He was becoming restless. His woman had to be alright. He wouldn't be able to hold on to his sanity if anything happened to her. 

'It's not a good idea, son,' the King held his son's arm to stop him from leaving. 

'Father, I need to see her,' the Prince said, restlessly. 'She's in her room?' 

His father looked at him carefully before letting go of him and confirmed, 'She's in her room.' 

He sprinted toward Amara's room. 

Nothing would have prepared him for what he saw. His Amara was on her bed. He almost didn't recognize her. She was pale. There were claw marks on her face. Her arms were bandaged. The rest of her was hidden under a snug blanket. His heart ached. He flinched as he neared her. 

Phoebe was taking care of her. 

'How is she?' He tried to sound as stoic as he could. 

The sorceress looked at him, noticing him for the first time, 'Prince Damien.' She looked at Amara. She felt bad for the Prince. Amara had been injured badly. She had lost too much blood. At first, Phoebe feared Amara wouldn't survive, her wounds were too deep but she managed to keep her alive. 'She's hanging on.'