Chapter 7 A Mysterious Rescuer

Aria’s POV

Pain radiates through my shoulders, like a weight pressing down on me. I try to move, but it only worsens the ache. My mind is a jumbled mess, thoughts swirling like a maelstrom.

Suddenly, memories flashback - the prince's ferocious werewolf form, its razor-sharp claws, its piercing gaze, and its jaws wide open in a snarling snout, ready to devour me.

I snap my eyes open, and my heart races as I take in the sight of a stunningly handsome man, his expression a mix of worry and apprehension etched across his face.

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice shaking as I took in the grandeur of the room.

"You're in my room," The handsome man replied, his deep voice calm and soothing. "You're safe now."

I jolted upright, my heart racing, and demanded,

"What happened? How did I get here?"

As I spoke, his expression turned grim, and he reached out to brush the hair out of my face, his fingers grazing my skin.

I flinched at the gentle touch, but my eyes never left him, and I took in his features - the sharp jawline, the piercing amber eyes that seemed to burn with an inner intensity, and the chiseled cheekbones that accentuated his rugged beauty.

"I brought you here," he said, his deep voice low and husky, his gaze holding mine with a quiet confidence that was both captivating and unnerving.

"How could he be this handsome?" I wondered, my mind racing with the possibility that I'd stumbled into a divine realm or perhaps succumbed to a mortal demise, and this was the heavenly afterlife.

His chiseled features were nothing short of flawless - a sharp jawline sculpted by the gods, a smooth, unblemished complexion that seemed almost ethereal, a nose straight and proportional to his other facial features, and full lips that curled into a gentle smile, sending my heart into a frenzied flutter.

His piercing amber eyes sparkled with a warmth that belied the danger lurking beneath, like a siren's call beckoning me closer.

His dark hair was perfectly messy, framing his face in a way that made me yearn to reach out and touch its rebellious strands.

A playful pinch on my arm pulled me out of my thoughts, as he smiled at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His aura, a swirling maelstrom of darkness and malevolence, screamed danger, like a warning sign flashing in neon lights in my mind - a potent blend of power, mystery, and intrigue that drew me in even as it made me wary like a moth helplessly drawn to a flame.

"Hey, what are you thinking of?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners, making him look even more handsome.

As I was caught staring at him for what felt like an eternity, a blush rose to my cheeks like a crimson sunrise, betraying my inner thoughts;

I tried to conjure a witty response, but all I could manage was a weak, sheepish smile and a hasty shake of my head, hoping to play off my embarrassment."

"Nothing," I muttered, trying to play it cool, but I could tell he didn't believe me.

"Here, have some water," he gestured to me, handing me a glass cup.

I grasped it eagerly, bringing it to my lips. The cool liquid slid down my throat, quenching my parched mouth and soothing my dry, scratchy throat.

I gulped greedily, feeling the refreshing water revitalize me. It was like a taste explosion - I couldn't remember the last time water tasted so good!

As I drained the glass, he smiled and took it from me, his fingers brushing against mine. The gentle touch sent a shiver down my spine. He refilled the glass and handed it back to me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

'Better?' he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, still savoring the refreshing taste.

'Much better,' I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

I took another sip, feeling the water's coolness spread through my body, revitalizing me.

"Did you see the beastly wolf?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly as I awaited his response.

He looked uncomfortable, his gaze darting away from mine before he replied "Yes.."

I leaned in, my curiosity piqued. "So how—"

But my next question was abruptly halted by a loud gurgle from my stomach, betraying my hunger.

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as his face quickly turned serious, his eyes widening as if he had made a grave mistake.

"Oh, forgive me," I said, mortified. "I guess I'm hungrier than I thought."

His expression remained serious, his voice low and gentle.

"Let's get you some food. We can talk…"

He paused, his eyes locking onto mine with an inscrutable gaze, before continuing,

"about that later."

************

I tried to stand and a sharp pain shot through my body, making me wince. But before I could even process what was happening, he was before me, his hands wrapping around my waist, pulling me close.

His fingers splayed across my hips, sending shivers down my spine as he lifted me, his eyes locked on mine.

As I opened my mouth to protest, his chest pressed against mine and my words got caught in my throat. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my skin tingled where our bodies touched. My voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, "I...I can manage..."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my forehead, and whispered,

"Shhh." His warm breath caressed my skin, and I felt my heart race.

I felt his warmth, his strength, and his gentle care.

As I gazed up at my mysterious rescuer, gratitude swelled in my chest. Whoever he was, wherever he came from, he had saved me from the clutches of that monstrous beast.

But as a slave, I couldn't help but wonder... why? Why would anyone bother to save someone like me?

The gentle way he treated me, the softness in his eyes, it all bewildered me. I was accustomed to cruelty, not kindness.

My mind raced with questions: Who was this enigmatic stranger? Where was I? How did I end up here?

But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside and let myself bask in the warmth of this moment. If it was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. I wanted to savor the feeling of being treated like a person, not a possession. The gentle touch, the whispers, it all felt like a luxury I'd never known before.

He guided me to a nearby chair, his movements slow and deliberate, his face inches from mine. I could feel his breath on my skin, making my heart race and my pulse quicken.

As he helped me sit down, his hands lingered on my waist, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on my skin.

I felt a flutter in my chest, and my cheeks flushed with a warmth that had nothing to do with the pain.

His eyes never left mine, and I saw a spark of something there, something that made my heart skip a beat.

"Please, take a seat," he said, his voice courteous and gracious. "Dinner is about to be served."

A timid knock was heard, and he barked "Enter!" in a deep, authoritative voice. The door creaked open, and the royal ladies-in-waiting, their faces etched with fear, hesitantly stepped inside.

I was taken aback, my eyes wide with surprise. The ladies-in-waiting? That meant I was still in the palace! And if they were serving us, that meant my rescuer was someone of immense power and importance. I couldn't help but wonder who he was and why he rescued a slave like me.

Their eyes darted around the room as if they were walking into a trap. Their trembling hands struggled to steady the tray as they approached the table where we sat.

The fine silverware and golden trays sparkled in the flickering candlelight, a testament to the wealth and power of a royal family.

His demeanor was cool and normal, but the ladies were terrified. Their faces, usually composed and serene, now betrayed their anxiety, their skin pale and clammy.

The leader of the ladies-in-waiting, Lady Charlotte, took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on him, her gaze pleading for mercy. The other ladies followed, their movements stiff and jerky, like puppets on a string.

The air was heavy with tension as they approached the table, their fear palpable.

"Are you okay?" his deep voice boomed into the silence, his piercing gaze on me slicing through the tension like a sword.

"I'm fine," I replied, attempting a convincing smile, but my body language betrayed me like a traitor, screaming discomfort and unease.

He read my unease like a seasoned warrior reads the battlefield, his eyes narrowing as he detected the faint scent of deception.

Lady Charlotte's hands trembled like leaves in an autumn gale as she began to serve the meal, her eyes darting towards him with fear, as if seeking refuge from the storm brewing within.

"Stop," he commanded, his voice like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the room.

Forgive me, Your Highness," Lady Charlotte stammered, her voice like a gentle breeze on a summer's day, but her body language screamed terror, her face as pale as the driven snow.

"Leave us alone," he growled, his tone like a predator stalking its prey, sending the ladies-in-waiting scurrying for cover like frightened rabbits.

As quickly as lightning illuminates the dark sky, the ladies-in-waiting vanished, leaving us alone with the delicacies spread before us like a feast for the gods.

I gazed into the piercing amber eyes of the enigmatic stranger and savior, my voice barely above a whisper as I uttered the three words that would unravel the mystery shrouding him:

"Who are you?"