21: 21 Why Are You Apologizing?

21 Why Are You Apologizing?

"Ah!" 2

Nick presses his moveable hand frantically against his neck, which almost breaks. The sudden rush of air made his eyes and nose water. The face that used to give me despair is now so funny.

"Why stop me?" Murmured Kral. His dark hair made his skin look delicate in the moonlight, and his dark eyes looked to me like a transparent wall. Some intense emotions surged in his eyes, but they were all suppressed by him.

If I don't stop him, Kral will lose control of himself with terrible consequences.

I don't know why I feel this way, but I do.

"Master, you are hurt," I said softly, not noticing the trembling in my voice.

Kral did not speak. He looked at me quietly, letting me reach out and touch the cuts on his arm.

The sticky touch came from my fingertips, and the warm blood ran through my fingers, drawing a curving line in my hand, and then dripping to the ground.

My heart hurts. I feel there are thousands of needles in my heart in the softest place. The cut on his body made me feel pain. I couldn't speak, only felt the tears winding down my face.

Kral's face grows more confused. He cocked his head and stared at my face. The expression on his face changed from cold to blank. He frowned and stared at me. He asked me impatiently, "Why are you crying? Are you not satisfied?"

He glanced at the cut on his arm where I had touched it, then turned to look at Nick, who was gasping for air.

"Ah, I almost forgot." He suddenly laughed, his lips curving into an arc. He suddenly reached out and took the knife from my hand. The sharp knife gleamed, and his movement was too fast for me to see. I blinked, trying to see what was happening, and Kral had already made several bloody holes in Nick.

Kral's black shirt was stained with blood, and the knuckles on his knife hand bulged. Each time he made a cut, it was precise and quick, and there was not a trace of hesitation or emotion in his movements. A dull thump rang out, turning the white hilt of his knife red.

Blood gushed from Nick's body and formed a stream on the ground. He was convulsing and his face was pale from the loss of blood. The eyes that frightened me were still staring at me, and the lips that were turning purple were opening and closing, as if they were still cursing me.

"B.itch!" I see Nick's lips mouthing the word. I looked at his twisted face, and his curses no longer scared me. I just looked at Kral worriedly. His wounds were bleeding, and the blood from Nick's body made his eyes go crazy again.

Nick obviously has no chance of being alive. His life was clearly running out, but Kral was still stabbing him, as if only the constant spatter of blood would satisfy him.

Kral is not a cruel man. This is not right.

"Kral!" I stood up and hugged him as hard as I could. My long hair wrapped around my trembling body and I crashed into his arms. "Master, calm down. I'm afraid." I buried my face on his shoulder, with a little cry.

Kral finally stopped what he was doing. The strong smell of blood and liquor filled my body. He paused for a second, looking down, his nose lingering in my hair. I shivered. It wasn't until a few moments later that his warm hand touched the back of my head and his low, husky voice said, “Delia, I'm sorry. I almost lost it.”

"Master?" I wanted to look into his eyes, but he held me so tightly that I couldn't turn around.

"Follow me. It's not just about me and him, it's about you and him. I think you should be involved." Kral crouches down slowly. He was behind me, one hand covering my body, the other take my hand, holding a bloody knife in my hand. His hot palm wrapped tightly around my numb fingers. The cold touch of the knife made my palms sweat. I can hardly hold it.

“Don't be afraid.” Contrary to the soft voice in my ear, Kral's movements were very sharp. For a moment, the touch of the knife sinking into the flesh reminded me of a hunter's quick killing of cattle and sheep.

"No!" Nick let out his final scream. It was the first time I had ever seen Nick Look at me in such a panic. He opened his eyes as wide as he could, his eyes almost falling out of their sockets. The contempt in his eyes was now replaced by fear. He could not believe that he had died at my hands. Kral took my hand and stabbed him in the heart. The blood from his wound splashed all over my face.

Nick, whom I had feared many times, was now just an unconscious piece of meat under my knife. Kral let go of the hand that wrapped my hand. I still held the dagger with a trembling hand. The light of the knife reflected my dull face.

So that's it? The disgusting insults, the bad memories, the hurt, did they all leave me? I asked myself vaguely.

The tears on my face were slowly wiped away. Kral slowly wiped the blood stains off my face. He lifted my chin and looked deep into my eyes. His deep, magnetic voice rang in my ears. "You are the girl of my choice, future queen, and no one can disrespect you. You can kill any werewolf who dares to offend you."

"But, I am too weak, I can not even shift." Numerous memories of being squeezed scolded re-emerge in my brain like a flood. I looked blankly at Kral.

“It doesn't matter. If you can't do it, I'll help you.” A cape covers my face, and the smell of Kral envelops me again. Emotions settled in Kral's long, deep, narrow eyes, and dark clouds swirled in his golden eyes.

I know I smell like Nick. The Lycans had a sharper sense of smell, and he must have smelled it. I tried to wrap my cloak around my naked self, exposing only my head.

"Give me your hand." Kral was silent for a long moment. I turned my back and handed over my injured hands.

The cloak wrapped around my body, a thin white wrist sticking out of a dark gap. The long gauze was around my wrists in layers, and blood slipped from my wrists, flowing through my pale fingers and dripping into the sand on the ground.

Kral's broad palm held my bloodstained hands, the other hand carefully treated my wounds. He moved carefully, as if afraid of hurting me again.

"Does it still hurt?" Kral asked suddenly, his head down. His eyes were fixed on my bleeding wound. His bushy eyebrows were raised and there was a cut between them.

"It doesn't hurt that much anymore," I said, biting my lip and looking away. I didn't know how to deal with it, because no one had ever asked me that question in my entire life, so I have to give a very vague answer.

“I'm sorry.” He said.

My wound was completely exposed under his eyes. The rope burns, the fingers, the blood from the struggle were all exposed to the moonlight, and I saw Kral's eyes tighten, his golden eyes churning, and he suddenly held me tight, as if trying to melt me into his bones and blood.

“Why are you apologizing?” My hands were around his waist, my head was on his shoulders, and his breath filled my lungs. In fact, there had never been a moment in my life when I felt more at ease. I looked at his drooping hair and whispered, "Thank you for coming, Your Highness, although this is the second time I have thanked you."

Kral didn't answer. He carried me with his arms in silence and walked step by step into the forest.

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