A calloused hand gently caressed Morrigan’s wounded hands. His warm hands emit warmth to Morrigan’s ice-cold hands that had been soaked to her own blood for the whole night. A young man gazed at Morrigan, trying to find her eyes. “My Queen, what happened?” He inquired. Morrigan’s chestnut-colored eyes bore to the young man with ginger hair kneeling in front of her. Their gaze meeting and the dead expression in Morrigan’s eyes slowly lit up with life. “Colfre,” she called out in a small voice. Her voice is still hoarse from all the screams she did last night. She’d been in a daze for the whole night, unable to close her eyes and rest her fragile body. “I’m here, my queen.” Colfre’s hands gently squished her hand, gentle enough to not hurt her further from all the cuts she had, and enough to make Morrigan feel the assurance that someone is beside her.
Last Updated : 2021-05-20 Read more