Nicon

IX

IX

    THE HOPE FADING from her eyes was enough for the King to storm out of the Doctor's quarters angrily.  His thoughts traveled uncontrollably rampant through his mind, no doubt unconsciously entering the minds of those directly around him.

    He entered a fit of rage, tight anger pressing his chest so it constricted uncomfortably.  His blood should have healed her sight.  She shouldn't be victim to the dark.  His large fist broke through the brick wall outside of his room and he heard voices murmuring worriedly at the back of his thoughts.

    "My King, you'll tear apart the castle if you continue this."  Syd's tentative voice spoke from behind Nicon.

    The King was in no mood for being patient.  "Leave me or you will perhaps pay for your stupidity with your life."

    Syd could practically feel the King's rage pulsing off of his being in waves.  The whole corridor was alive with vibrations, reflecting off of surfaces and penetrating crevices.  "As much as it would not benefit me to disobey, my King, it would be against my morals to leave you at this time when you very well may need me most."

    "It wouldn't be against my morals to kill you."  The King sneered, finally turning to view his servant warrior.

    The other man's heart froze at the taunting sight of his King, whose eyes had turned black with power.  Stories whispered through the halls were nothing compared to the sight of Nicon's wolf just barely under the surface.  If there had been power pulsing through the castle before, the magnitude at which it was projecting now was immeasurable.

    "My Ki-"

    "Stop!" Nicon roared, shaking the walls of the castle and rattling Syd's form.  The cowering man contemplated shifting into his wolf, which would at least give him a second head start.

    It would only take Nicon a half a second to catch him.

    "If I have to hear another one of your horrid pleasantries it wouldn't be just your heart I rip out!"  He was stalking toward Syd, taking large steps, and in under three heartbeats, he was standing practically nose to nose with him.

    Nicon's fingertips tauntingly danced across Syd's chest, directly above his drumming heart.  "You're awfully nervous for a warrior."

    Syd did not reply.

    "You listen to me now, mutt?"

    A reply still did not pass Syd's lips.

    "Enough, Nicon.  Leave the poor man alone." 

    Her voice jeered Nicon's glare from his servant's face and to the light and cloudy eyes of his mate.  Surprisingly, her eyes were trained directly on Nicon and for a second he forgot that she could not see him.

    "How did you get here?"

    "I heard that when one of your senses is diminished, the others are heightened.  Apparently, it's true."  Her tone trailed off in the end and disappointment crept in her voice.

    "You are dismissed," Nicon hissed to Syd, his eyes not leaving his mate's body.

    She took another step toward the man, although she couldn't see where she was going, and prayed to anyone who could hear her that she was not just embarrassing herself and walking toward a wall.

    Elysie could feel his presence in front of her and she knew his eyes hadn't left her.  She was uncomfortable not knowing how she looked, or how he looked.

    "I apologize."  His wolf was slowly retreating as his mate stepped closer, and Nicon desperately waited for her to be within reaching distance.

    "For what?"

    "Telling you my blood would fully heal you."   

    She accepted his apology, knowing the man didn't apologize often.  The words sounded foreign on his tongue.

"You mentioned it was a possibility there would be complications.  It's my fault for believing there wouldn't be."

    "You are hopelessly optimistic," he mused as she stepped closer.

    She took another step.  Nicon knew if he reached out an arm he would be able to touch her.  "I'd like to think so."

    "And brave," he commented as she stepped closer yet.  How Elysie wasn't scared out of her mind, she didn't know.  This man killed for her.

    This man healed her.

    "What is your name, human?"

    She felt his fingertips on her previously broken wrist and for a mere second, she thought she could see deep blue eyes and long dark hair in front of her.  "Elysie," she whispered. Was it he who projected the face? Was it his?

    "Elysie."

    The imagine in her mind never faded and once again she could feel hope pressing against her chest, waiting to be let out.

    "Elysie," he repeated quietly.