Out Of The Woods

Six

Ambrose was in pain.

Agonizing pain.

His whole body was throbbing and tender, the aching feeling making him whimper.

His eyes flutter open as he comes to, widening as he realizes that he was still on the floor in Johnathan's bedchamber.

His hands fly to his throat, wincing as a fiery pain sears through his neck. The area was more tender than the rest of his body.

Ambrose's throat was sore. So sore that he could not even swallow properly.

"Ah," Ambrose moans, his vision swimming as he tries to sit upright. He felt nauseous. As if any sudden movement would make him expel the contents of his stomach. He wanted to lie down and sleep, not having the energy to move.

But he had to get out of the estate.

If he could just make it far enough to be able to link his father he could escape. Help would be on the way. Johnathan would surely be put to death for harming a royal family member.

And when Ambrose came back to the palace, he could find his mate...

Finding the ambition to move, Ambrose grabs ahold of the wooden bed frame, hoisting himself off the floor. His legs wobble as he takes a few tentative steps towards the door. His hand never leaving the bed frame.

Once he could go no further, he hesitantly lets go of the frame. He immediately regrets the action as he takes another step. And having no support, he tumbles to the ground with a crash.

Ambrose's head slams against the floor, causing his ears to ring and his vision to blur. He holds back his cries of pain, pressing his hands to the newly injured area of his head.

Tears come to Ambrose's eyes, making the boy sob pitifully. He curls into a little ball, his tears wetting the floor as he cries. Not having the strength to stand any longer.

He was beginning to lose hope, praying for someone to find him so he could be over with this nightmare.

Ambrose and Johnathan were supposed to live happily ever after. Not once, did he think his life would lead down this path. Not once, did he think Johnathan would ever lay a harmful hand on him.

The door to Johnathan's bedchamber opens, revealing Johnathan. He stands above Ambrose, who was now quivering with fear.

Ambrose flinches as Johnathan reaches towards his. He cries out, scrambling away from the older man. He scoots backward until his body makes contact with the bed frame once again. He clings to the wooden post, bracing himself against it.

"Ambrose," Johnathan growls, lurching forwards, grabbing ahold of Ambrose's hair. Ambrose sobs as Johnathan's hands graze the healing gash at the back of his head. "I wouldn't test me now, Ambrose. I am very angry with you."

He yanks Ambrose to his feet, making the boy whimper. With each stumbling step, his body ached more and more.

Johnathan drags Ambrose into the washroom, pushing him towards the filled bathtub. Steam rose from the tub, fogging up the mirror beside it.

"Clean yourself off, you smell of blood and sweat. It is disgusting. I will be back for you within the hour. Then we will talk."

Ambrose shakes with fear as Johnathan pulls him close, pressing a kiss to his lips. He watches with bated breath as Johnathan walks out of the washroom, closing the door behind him.

Ambrose's heart skips a beat as he hears the door lock from the outside, trapping him in the washroom.

Ambrose slowly pulls his clothing off, noticing many tears in the fabric. Confused, he hobbles over to the mirror, gasping at what he sees in the reflection.