55: 55 You Came To Me

55 You Came To Me

"I'm late, Delia." 1

I think I must be in pretty bad shape right now. I was drenched from head to toe, and the hem of my long skirt clung to my shins, smearing the grass. There was blood on the gloves of my arm from the wound in Lancaster, and my hair was disheveled and I was a mess.

But so what? Kral has seen me in many ways. He's seen me in my worst form.

I held my breath and watched Karal come to me. His scent lingered on my nose, with a hint of liquor, but also a hint of sweet grass.

But I only feel a sense of security surrounded, like the first time he reached out to me, holding me away from the suffocating home.

Kral took off his right glove with one hand and touched my face with his warm palm. The delicate touch of his fingertips made it impossible for me to pretend to be strong any longer. My eyelashes could not bear the weight of the tears, and big tears fell on his palm.

“You came to me.”

The moment I said it, I realized there was a special feeling in my words. I looked at his face, his eyebrows furrowed, and the fingers on my face paused. I suddenly couldn't help but realize that I had always had feelings for him that I was ashamed to admit, even though I always pretended they didn't exist, even though I always told myself it was just a promise.

His golden pupils, which had been arrogant in the past, now exuded a harmless, almost gentle expression under the silver moonlight. He was silent, and his tightly pursed lips did not say a word.

The atmosphere froze for a moment. I blinked, embarrassment welled up in my head, and my sanity returned.

I suddenly found myself standing there like a clown.

I quickly lowered my head, no longer looked at him, to suppress my breakdown of emotions and sobs,and said in a low voice: "Sorry, master, I. . ."

My sobbing words were interrupted by a hug. A domineering embrace made it impossible for me to speak.

“Stop it, Delia.”

The deep voice of Kral rang in my ears. His voice was still cold but it sounded comforting. His face was buried in my neck so that I couldn't see his expression. His arm tightened around my waist. His sighing voice seemed to come from a distance: "You're doing great. You don't have to be sorry. Delia."

"I'm sorry. I'm late."

I froze. It's not a hallucination. Why is he apologizing to me?

I turned to see his face, but perhaps Kral had misunderstood me. He tightened his grip around my waist, pressed his lips to my ear, and said, "Don't leave me, Delia."

My hands were pressed against his broad chest, and I was almost out of breath under his weight. He stood motionless, pressing down on me like a boulder, not letting go. "I really want to melt you into my body, so you won't have to face this alone."

My body shivered slightly. I buried myself in his shoulder. I got carried away by his words and my eyes started to flow out again. Two big white stains soon appeared on his white shirt.

"Don't be angry with me. Please rely on me and trust me, Delia." The words in my ear suddenly stopped, the air around him grew murderous. "As for those who stand in my way, those who hurt you, I will teach them a lesson."

Kral finally let me go. I feel relaxed, the cool night air makes me awake.

“I taught you that. If you meet someone who wants to hurt you, you can kill them. You've done well.”

Kral's right hand brushed my forehead, leaving a warm trail. In an instant, the dagger in my hand was taken away by him. He looked at Lancaster, who was lying on the ground, pale. He exuded a Lycan air of oppression, and he lifted his chin with the blade of his knife. "I always knew you were stupid, Lancaster, but I didn't know you had the guts to do this to my woman."

The cold light of the dagger shone over the lake in the night, and glinted at Lancaster's throat.

"My prince, I swear to you, I have no intention of hurting Delia," Lancaster pleaded. His whole body trembled with anxiety and weakness, and his lips were purple from the loss of blood.

"Delia, for the sake of my sister Catherine, please spare my life."

He turned to me again. His tears misted his eyes and made people feel sorry for him. But I did not speak, and I would not trust him.

"Answer me, who sent you? Elder William or who? How dare you harm my future queen? How about I hang your body out as a gift to them?" Kral asked coldly, the cold gleam of his hand brushed over his face.

“No, no, no, Prince, leave me alone, it was my father! I will identify him for you! Please leave me alone, please!”

Lancaster pleaded. If he hadn't been so badly wounded that he couldn't shift into a wolf, I have no doubt he would have crawled to the ground, wagging his tail, and prayed to Kral.

"Is the elder Willam doing this for Catherine?" I thought to myself.

That nice-looking old man actually wanted me dead?

"Is there anyone else besides Willam? Catherine?" Kral was not surprised to hear the name, and the dagger in his hand moved slowly, leaving a chilling threat on Lancaster's neck.

"I would never do such a thing," a mocking female voice traversed the dark woods.

"Catherine! ! !"

Lancaster suddenly began to twist as hard as he could. He stretched his neck and groaned and shouted in the direction of the sound, as if Catherine were the only thing keeping him alive from Kral's hands.

Kral's golden eyes sparkled with ice, and he was enraged by Lancaster's cry for help. Or rather, he had been angry from the moment he saw him.

"Ah!"

Kral's grip on the knife tightened, the corners of his mouth curled up grimly, and in an instant, the dagger had been thrust into the ribs of Lancaster's chest.

His cries of pain sharpened for a moment, like a crow's brief shriek, and then came to an abrupt end. I watched the blood flow out of his body and get wet at my feet. I watched it all happen, and I just felt that the shore was finally quiet.

"Kral, what a nice surprise to see you here," says Catherine, who leans against the tree trunk and looks at us with raised eyebrows, her expression unchanged.

"And Delia," she said, tilting her head slightly at me, looking at my face as if it was the first time she had ever known me. "His Highness Kral went against the rules and suffered a curse to save you. It's very touching."

"Curse? What curse?" My heart tightened, and I pulled at Kral's sleeve and asked worriedly.

“Catherine,” Kral says, letting me hold him, but he doesn't look at me. He turns and stares at her with a stern warning, “I've put up with you so many times, and don't let my patience with you run out.”

"I promise, Your Highness," she said, jumping down from the tree and curtsying gracefully, as if we were still in a splendid, lighted palace rather than in a dark, wooded valley.

"Your patience was well worth it," she said, her red lips curving into a subtle arc, and then, as Kral and I watched, she effortlessly picked up the lifeless Lancaster. She turned to me and said meaningfully, "Delia, oh no, future queen, have a nice trial."

"Your Highness, you will see what you want to see."

With that, she left without looking back, leaving Lord Kral and me alone again by the moon-reflecting lake.

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