The Lycan King's Healer

me just another co

was dead. Death is a funny thing like that; with some deaths, like executions or freak accidents, some people are killed before th

there would be no meat for the rodents to feast on. Dwindling, seemingly melting. Empty, devoid of my own

and this pained body and into the sky. Into bliss away from this cruel world where I

t the

to my sunken and sallow body. “You can

ipped through my soul–she is n

houted into the void.

not

son who knew I was even still existent was Emily’s servant, who had been watching me slowly die. He did agree to inform Aldrich that I had im

tter; Aldric

is? Why must this be my fate, left here

Loathing consumed me, and I wished I could burn this cottage down with it. I wished I could b

, so our child was not remotely stabilize

s desperate to rescue my baby. The only thing in the world that I loved. Maybe

the pain worsened. My soul would be ripped into pieces by it soon. She was the on

e again. Let my baby and I live. I want my p

felt like my soul was being sh

*

of pale light. It shone over my cor

t I refused to leave the cottage out of s

g the room in moonlight. The dark floor looked like the o

whispered, echoing through

o the void, I must live

rare child. Rare

jected in the voice. As the moonlight saturated my

y soul begged, are you h

re to grant you life again; your bloodlin

uestioned. I’m an

oddess urged, for you and your sister, Danika, ar

re mysterious and very discreet; they kept to themselves during their time period

ermeating through my bodil

and medicine, had the ability to bring anything back from t

, remembering how pathetic and insignificant I felt in comparison to Prince Aldr

an guess with ease. You are one of them. Your species is very important, dea

nce Aldrich and I, I mutte

him, even more so. And you

and a bath and sunlight. But mostly,

urn, was a

arned, I will grant you life, but i

, who was treated like a clown then tossed away like a forgotten piece of gar

e to escape from the dust and death drowning in cobwe

*

ars

dr

ing to each other in the sky. And I admitted to myself, after

d time to analyze. I forgot about birds, about the details of life and the way the cl

r leave. A cottage to the right of a large willow tree caught my eye, and it looked like the most peaceful th

” a tiny voice echoe

I scanned the sunlit forest around me.

repeatedly calling for help. As a former soldier, it was

iction. I couldn’t remember who last resided in it–probably one of the servants o

pproached the cottage. The soldier in me was gracious, but t

ndeed stuck, hanging out of