The Lycan King's Healer
The Lycan King’s Healer – Chapter 44

Gasping, I turned to the origin of the noise: the sky.

Pink sparks combusted in front of the clouds. Then orange. Then blue. Then gold. An array of dazzling colors exploded in bursting hued sparkles against the sky, as it was jewelry. Amazed, I started at the sky in both terror and half enchantment. Did they color-code bombs now?

Aldrich’s laughter was almost louder than the sky. He watched me as I cowered away, and I turned on him with annoyance. “Why are you laughing at me? What is that?”

“You’ve never seen fireworks before?” he asked in a tone that implied I should have very indeed known about them.

I slapped his arm. “Don’t make fun of me!” I commanded, still slightly afraid. “No,” I whispered under my breath.

“They are simply colorful explosives,” he informed me, chuckling.

I frowned as worry washed over me. “So they are bombs?”

“What?” he asked, laughing, “no! They are for celebration or display.”

“Oh,” I said, blushing.

“The night I met you, I watched them while wondering if Theo has ever seen them,” he mused, watching as gold sprinkled the sky, “I guess I should have wondered for you, too.”

As I watched the fireworks decorate the sky like paint splattering against a black canvas, I marveled over how casually people regarded this. Shouldn’t they be concerned how loud and fire hazardous it was over so many trees?

“It seems…romantic,” I marveled, frowning, “how are explosives so romantic?”

He cupped my face with his hand, and I turned from the sky to his face. He looked beautiful, the colored lights casting hued shadows on his face. “Because you’re with me.”

I let him k**s me. Our lips blended together like the ocean meets the shore, seamlessly and familiarly. It was also like the tide; it started off soft, then descended into something more like high tide. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his hand traveled down from my face to my h**s, pulling me against him. I kissed him like I was hungry for him, because I had been for so long. I kissed him like he was my first k**s in the world, like he was oxygen, like he was the antidote to a disease that was killing me.

He kissed me like he was relieved to be. Every touch, every dance of our lips, he seemed relieved almost. Like he thought he’d never get to k**s me again, or for this long. His hands seemed like they wanted to be greedy along my body, but he stopped himself from doing so, not wanting to ruin the opportunity he had been given. It was like he was kissing glass, something beautiful and yearned for but something so breakable that could fall to a million tiny sharp pieces in his hands.

I tangled my fingers into his hair and pulled him closer to me. I’m not sure if it was the adrenaline from the fireworks, the flutes of champagne, or the taste of his lips, but I wanted more. I wanted all of him. I tugged on his lower l*p, lightly holding it between my teeth. He made a soft noise, and I smiled in satisfaction.

Every atom inside me was alive, burning with electricity. I didn’t care who saw us out here, didn’t care for the stupid colorful explosions in the sky or the fact someone wanted us dead. All I cared about was him. I wondered why I had not done this sooner, why I had not shut him up or won an argument with a feverish k**s.

It was like our wedding night, the way he kissed me.

I froze. It was a reminder I did not want to have.

He noticed my lips suddenly unmoving, and pulled away, gasping. I did not catch my breath, too frozen to breathe.

“Did I do something wrong?” he automatically asked in a delicate, nervous whisper.

I shook my head, holding my breath until I felt light headed and dazed.

“What’s wrong then?” Concerned clouded his tone, placing a hand under my chin to take a closer look at me.

I exhaled shakily, releasing the breath. Fuzz framed my vision. The reminder made my stomach turn, and I looked down as the nauseousness made my breath catch.

“Cathy,” he whispered desperately.

I shot my gaze at his eyes, attempting to look at him to calm me down. It slightly helped; the recognition in his eyes helped me forget the lingering memory of how distant his eyes were on our wedding night, but how passionate his k****s were. And seeing now that is how he k****s while not under the influence…I felt as if I unintentionally stole those k****s from him.

“Just remembered something I didn’t want to,” I said when I caught my voice.

“What was it?” he asked, cupping my face.

I sighed, shaking my head. “I remembered our wedding night.”

“Oh,” he said, appearing as if he was not quite sure how to answer. “I wish I did.”

My stomach twisted. “That’s the problem, Aldrich,” I said, looking away from him to the glittering sky. “It feels wrong.”

He nodded, understanding. “I would feel wrong about it, too. But you have to remember it wasn’t your fault.”

“It still feels…odd. I associated you as a whole different person that night,” I murmured, “but when you k**s me like that…”

“It reminds you that it was actually me,” he finished, dropping his hands to his sides.

I nodded.

“Well, we don’t have to…do any of that,” he reminded me tentatively, “I would never want to make you upset just so that I could k**s you.”

“But I liked it,” I admitted, watching the light traveling to the pinnacle of the sky before combusting into ribbons of green.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. “My Cathy,” he said, rubbing my back soothingly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’d tell you if I knew myself,” I muttered, melting against his chest. Our interaction like this still felt so foreign, like we were supposed to be fighting rather than getting along. My cheeks felt heated every time he wrapped his arms around me like I belonged in them for years. I still wasn’t sure if I did.

“I know what’ll help,” he said, and then gestured over to the balcony railing. “That spot over there has the best view, if you have enough nerve to stand right by the edge.”

I grinned at him. “You claim to know me so well, but assume I am afraid of mere heights. I just punched a short tempered prince in the face.”

Aldrich laughed. “You’re right. Come, then.” He used the one arm positioned around me like a life tube in the ocean and ushered me over to the overlook. The balcony was huge, and it took us several moments to cross.

“Are you ready?” he asked with a keen ardor, and I laughed at his excitement.

“More ready than you’ll ever believe,” I challenged, looking at him smugly. We stood in front of the railing, and there was a wild liberation that fluttered inside of me. The option to die being this close to me was not ominous, but fascinating.

“Look then,” he gestured over the railing.

I did. My eyes drank in the moon and the clouds and the dark silhouette of mountain peaks before roaming down to how far it goes down. The distance was vast, as if the balcony was one planet and the ground was another.

I squinted my eyes at the sight of something on the stone below. It looked like a mangled branch at first. But when I leaned my head slightly down and tilted my head, a streak of horror froze my bones.

My insides stopped working as I realized the mangled branch was really a person. And the person was Alan, lying broken on the stone several stories down.