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The Royal Healer: Part 14
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2025-09-01 08:00:58They argued back and forth, their voices echoing through the hall, rising and falling like a storm I could feel in my chest. The air shimmered around them, tension crackling, each word like a spark on dry tinder. And then, just like that, they vanished. Gone. As if their quarrel had been a gust of wind, sweeping them into their own realm. The hall fell into stunned silence.
I blinked, trying to process the absence of their presence, while Khaled’s face twisted. Veins were visible along his temple, his jaw taut as if he was restraining some volcanic eruption inside him. “And… so the prophecy…” he muttered, each word trembling with barely contained fury, “…it was all because she was jealous?” I saw the flicker of something darker cross his eyes. The kind of rage that didn’t erupt but simmered, ready to spill at the slightest provocation. My chest tightened as I realized how close he was to snapping. Be
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They told me I had “dirty hands.” Not from soot, not from sweat, but from what I let creep into my head when the hammer was in my grip.That’s why they kicked me out of the forge.One of the masters caught me once, just standing there, eyes half-closed, hammer raised high but not coming down. Steel was glowing on the anvil, ready to be shaped, and I just… drifted. Watching the red metal pulse, hearing it hiss, I felt it crawl into me. Each swing I made felt less like I was forging a blade, and more like I was being forged with it.And yeah. It got me hard.Didn’t take long before they told me to piss off. No one wants a smith groaning at the sparks like some drunk at a brothel.So now it’s just me. No guild, no workshop. Just my own tools, my own corner of land, and my own shame. I gather my own ore, chop my own wood for the furnace, haul water from the river, everything. Adventurers call it “independence.” For me, it’s the only way I don
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As moments passed, Khaled pulled out of me furiously. He slammed me down onto the mattress so hard the frame groaned. His weight pinned me, his hand already fisting my hair, forcing my head back so I had no choice but to bare my throat to him.“You think you can go to him, Heron?” His voice was pure gravel, low and dangerous. “I’ll ruin you before I ever let you go.”My chest heaved, words catching in my throat, but then heat pressed against my back, fingers sliding down my arms, lips dragging over my neck. The god. His laugh slid into my ear, cold and burning at the same time.“You’re mine too, little mortal,” he whispered. “And tonight, Khaled learns what it means to share.”Khaled’s snarl shook through me as he shoved my thighs open and thrust inside me in one brutal stroke. I cried out, fists twisting in the sheets, the stretch sharp and merciless. My body clenched around him, too raw, too much, but he didn’t slow, he never did.“Look
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire The Royal Healer: Part 14
They argued back and forth, their voices echoing through the hall, rising and falling like a storm I could feel in my chest. The air shimmered around them, tension crackling, each word like a spark on dry tinder. And then, just like that, they vanished. Gone. As if their quarrel had been a gust of wind, sweeping them into their own realm. The hall fell into stunned silence. I blinked, trying to process the absence of their presence, while Khaled’s face twisted. Veins were visible along his temple, his jaw taut as if he was restraining some volcanic eruption inside him. “And… so the prophecy…” he muttered, each word trembling with barely contained fury, “…it was all because she was jealous?” I saw the flicker of something darker cross his eyes. The kind of rage that didn’t erupt but simmered, ready to spill at the slightest provocation. My chest tightened as I realized how close he was to snapping. Be
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire The Royal Healer: Part 13
The hall waited, heavy with anticipation. Every eye seemed to weigh me down, every breath suspended as if the world itself paused for what would unfold before us.The God of Lust stood beside Khaled, his steps graceful, almost regal, yet each movement left a subtle tremor in the air, a quiet, dangerous warning. He didn’t glance at me, not immediately. His gaze fixed ahead as if measuring the weight of the gathering, the balance of power, and the tension coiling like a living thing around the room.“It’s not that I don’t want you here,” he said finally, his voice low, like silk over steel, carrying through the hall. “It’s simply… the wrong place to speak of such matters.”I shifted slightly beside Khaled, gripping his arm without thinking. The weight of his hand on mine was grounding, yet my chest fluttered with unease. Then, she appeared.The Goddess of Fertility and Birth stepped forward, radiance sharp as a blade. Her eyes locked onto me first,
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Before I could even process what was happening, I was lifted effortlessly. The weight of the God of Lust’s presence pressed against me, both terrifying and oddly comforting.“Here,” his voice rolled through the hall, controlled and absolute, “he is yours.”Khaled caught me instantly, relief flooding his features as he pressed me against his chest. My arms clung to him, shaky, my fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic as though I could anchor myself in his steadiness.“I-I'm sorry,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Helena… the union… it happened. She… she has me now. I didn’t want this… I never wanted it…” My words stumbled out in a rush, fear and guilt pressing heavy on my chest.Khaled’s jaw tightened, his hands still holding me, but I could feel the fury burning in him, not at me, not at all, but at the cruel, meddling prophecy that forced this impossible situation. His voice was low, dangerous, but threaded with something tender beneath
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I’m paraded into the grand hall, every eye on me like I’m some prize to be admired. The banners of Malphis flutter overhead, golden light reflecting off polished floors, but all I feel is the weight of their stares, the heat of their celebration pressing into me.Helena walks ahead, her smile radiant, almost cruel in its perfection. She holds her chin high, trailing her hand lightly along my arm, as if I’m nothing more than a trophy to display.“Everyone, behold our guest,” she announces, voice ringing through the hall. “The God of Lust’s apostle, now safely in our care.”Applause and laughter follow, but it doesn’t reach me. I can’t return their smiles. I can’t feign gratitude. I want to shrink into the floor, disappear, and crawl back to Khaled.Helena leans close, whispering in my ear, soft and honeyed. “See? You’re mine now.”Her words, meant to entice, only tighten the knot in my chest. I want to speak, to shout, to tell her she has
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