Page 68 of Forgotten Fate

“No, you are not,” I refuted. “You’re still bleeding.”

He looked down at his hand again, as if he couldn’t believe it. I began to stand up, ignoring the lightheaded feeling as I did so.

“Aura, sit down. You’re wounded.”

“You’rewounded,” I hissed, ignoring his orders.

“You have a head injury. That’s much worse than a flesh wound.”

“Not if you’ve been bleeding for hours, Elias,” I said, nearly shouting. I wasn’t going to back down. “We need to stop the bleeding quickly.”

“Aura—”

“You’re not winning this one.” I glared at him. “My injury is healing. I’m okay. Yours is getting worse.” I looked at his torso and noticed how his wet shirt clung to his skin, his blood acting as an adhesive. “Sit down and take your shirt and vest off.”

He only looked at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Once I know you’re no longer bleeding, you can tend to my head. I promise.”

His eyes narrowed, but he reluctantly complied. He took my place on the ground and began to remove his top.

For the first time, I was seeing Elias’s bare chest and arms. He was as delectable as I could have imagined. With the small shadows defining each and every line of his muscles, he looked like he could have been carved from stone. His body was a work of art and I imagined only the gods could have been the inspiration.

As alluring as he was, I couldn’t help but bring my attention to the scars. His chest, stomach, and sides were just as heavily scarred as Iremembered seeing his back. What in the heavens had this man been through?

I brushed the thought aside, and focused on the source of the blood. A huge gash ran diagonally from his chest muscle all the way down to his lower rib. Blood was still dripping from the wound, trickling down his torso.

“Fuck, Elias,” I cursed.

He looked down and observed the wound for the first time himself.

I grabbed a few rags from his pack and placed one after another over the wound, each soaking through with his blood as I applied pressure. I worked in silence, Elias only staring at my face – probably the wound on my temple – as I did my best to stop the bleeding. After a moment, it appeared what I was doing was working, as the blood stopped dripping and each rag came back with a little less of his blood than the last.

“I’ll need to close the wound, or the bleeding won’t stop entirely, and the wound won’t heal,” I told him.

Elias nodded. “In my pack there’s a small wooden case with needles and thread in it,” he said.

“Good. Keep pressure on it,” I ordered. He did so as I felt through his pack until I found said case and pulled it out. I threaded a needle, then looked at Elias. “This isn’t going to be pleasant,” I said sympathetically.

He only nodded, then pulled his hand away to reveal the open gash. I placed my left hand on his chest, noting the tight muscles underneath. I felt Elias shudder as our skin collided and energy pulsed through us. I felt the pain in my temple begin to subside, but I didn’t question it, focused only on stitching Elias’s wound.

I worked quickly and diligently, as I had watched the healers at home do many times when they stitched up the guards after their sparring practice, or tended to the soldiers who came through after a mission. Elias didn’t so much as flinch as I pierced hisskin again and again to make a suture over his large, open wound.

“You didn’t even realize you were sliced open?” I asked after a moment, nearly done with my work.

“No,” he answered, his tone unconcerned. “It’s not often that I get wounded.”

“Hm,” I said, completely focused on the last few stitches. “That’s quite arrogant of you.”

He chuckled and I cursed when the movement made the needle almost slip from my fingers.

“And I was more focused on you,” he added. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

My whole body froze and my heart could have stopped. I looked up, meeting his gaze. “Oh,” I whispered, not knowing a damn thing else to say. Our eyes remained locked on one another for a moment more before I forced myself to look away to finish suturing.

It took dozens of stitches, and it was clear only a very sharp weapon could have made such a wound. I realized it must have been Vick, as he had been holding my knife.

Blood quickly drained from my face.