The Bell of Freedom (King and human romance)✔

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"Would you like to try some snacks?" I offer Samson as he sits up in my bed, he hasn't spoken a word in minutes since he woke up. He just stares at me. "Food?"

He nods.

"Were you told not to speak to humans?" I say.

He nods again.

That's why he spoke earlier because Blake was with me, and asked most of the questions. He's that terrified of his owner that he won't break his orders. It's the cruellest form of suggestion control. I grab a biscuit tin from the shelf and I take it over to him, he peers in with curiosity. His hand trembles as he picks up a ginger biscuit, he smells it first and then takes a nibble around the edge. He's like a mouse with a tiny block of cheese. I fall back in the chair, my heart breaking just by watching him.

"Your name is Samson," I say. "That's what your parents called you and what they would have called you at the nannery. Is that familiar?"

He looks at me and then nods his head.

"Okay," I say. "That's good. Samson, you can talk to me. I promise he isn't going to hurt you ever again."

He lowers the biscuit and he's just about to speak but his eyes go over my head and he suddenly cowers in fear, trying to escape along the covers. I look at Cain, he enters carrying the blade. The silver edge rests against his side.

"Put that away!" I say. "You're scaring him."

"Oh." Cain hides the blade behind his back. "I didn't mean to."

I look back to Samson. "That blade is not going to kill you. He's just got to make a small cut along your palm, okay?"

Samson shakes his head. "Please."

"Cain, give me the blade," I say.

"Why?"

"To show him. Get the medical kit."

Cain brings the medical kit over and places it at the bottom of the bed, he opens it and extracts some bandage rolls. I take the blade from him, holding my palm out. I stare up at him suddenly.

"This won't do anything to me, will it?"

"No," Cain says. "We have to hold it. It's more complicated than that."

Samson stares at my hand and I drag the blade along my palm. I wince for a moment, clenching on my teeth as the blood starts leaking down my arm. Cain gently moves a wipe up my wrist and then tightens one of the bandages around the wound.

"See?" I say. "It's over in a few seconds. It will make you strong again."

Samson is still unsure, he keeps his eyes on Cain as he takes back the blade and walks around the bed. Cain is very patient, he doesn't force him or become irritated. He waits for Samson to go to him.

"I don't think the palm will be big enough," Cain says. "A lot of his soul was taken. I might need to make the transfer through his arm."

"Don't talk to me," I say. "Talk to him."

Cain smiles at me from across the room. He drops his eyes to the boy that is edging closer and closer to the edge of the bed. "Is that okay? I need your arm."

Samson places his arm out and Cain gently twists it so that his inner arm is facing upwards. He doesn't even flinch when Cain makes the cut, he sits so still that I wonder if Cain is even doing it. Is he used to that much pain that this is nothing to him?

Cain places the blade into his jacket pocket and then rolls the bandage around the boy's arm. Samson is very quiet, he's probably adjusting to the sensations of having his energy returned to him. Cain has a strange expression on his face as he tightens the bandage. When he's done he places his fingers into Samson's throat, as though he's checking for a heartbeat. He looks startled, his eyes widen with amazement.