Rising of a feeble mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

{Ryanna’s POV}"I’ll want to take a walk," I said, grabbing the edge of the bed as I pushed to my feet. My legs hurt like they still hated me for waking up at all.Even hours after waking, my entire being refused to respond with the speed and efficiency I was used to. Or maybe it got familiar with the calm of deep slumber. The pain wasn't just a result of the poison but also weeks of back-to-back physical and mental exertion without proper rest.Lydia, I think that's her name folded her arms. "No, you're not." She was the wolf tending to me while I recovered. "I am." I pressed, still pushing despite my body's objection."You're barely healed. One wrong move and you'll split something again… Just wait till the evening, and then you can start moving about!”I took a shaky step forward just to prove her wrong. "Then I won't make any wrong moves."Her brows lifted. "You always say that right before you do something incredibly reckless, miss. That is exactly what Miss Ophelia told me.""S

Sleep drowned in an instant flood of ice. My body arched, rebelling against the shock. That was the first thing I felt. A bucket of water splashed against my chest and face, dragging me from the calming embrace of nothing.My body screamed, slightly less than before but screamed nonetheless.I blinked hard. The torchlight swam in my vision, and what seemed like cloth clawed along damp stone walls. I moved, just to realize my arms were chained overhead, wrists raw and burning.‘Silver….’My cloak and arm bandages reeked of blood and sweat. Even worse, they itched. My feet? They barely touched the ground, toes scraping loosely over wet stone.I coughed, blood lining my tongue."Finally," one of them muttered. With an especially nasal voice and lazy tone. The same bastard from before. "Wakey wakey. You've been out for so long, hope you don't mind the bath. You needed it.""Not like he has a choice," another said. His voice had more edge, even as he grinned ear to ear. "He might as well

{Ryanna’s POV}I woke up with his name on my lips."Casper."My heart beating fast in my chest, fists gripped into the tangled sheets. I sat up slowly, dragging in a breath that didn’t calm my anxiety.“What was that?” I asked even though I knew exactly what it was.In the dream… nightmare, he was reaching for me. Arms stretched, eyes wide and desperate. He was calling me like he used to when he was little and couldn’t sleep through a storm alone.But this time, I couldn’t reach him. No matter how far I leaned in, he kept slipping away into a fog that reeked of Aurelius.I was worried about Casper. No amount of acceptance made his interactions with Aurelius any less worrying.I brushed my hand over my face and pushed back the sheets as morning light twisted through the windows, but brought no warmth with them.“You need to stop troubling yourself so much.” I sighed.It was another clear day in the rogues' quarter, which had started to feel less like a survival hole and more like somet

{Ryanna’s POV}‘It’s ready.’The words echoed in my mind as I stepped out of the tavern into the cool night. The breeze couldn't clear the thoughts racing through my head, but it sure did help calm the expression on my face. I looked across the square.Casper was still talking to Kiara. They hadn’t left yet. Her laugh danced across the night sky, and his boyish grin was a balm to my aching chest. Knowing fully well my plans could very well end this friendship he had come to cherish.Loss… what a thing.I went over the stone path toward them, and they both looked up as I came close."You both are still here," I said, trying not to sound too surprised or too strict."Kiara wanted to ask about the herbs near the brook, and anyone who trades."Casper completed; "Apparently they make good root tea, and she wants to get some for her dad and grandma."Kiara gave me a warm smile. "I’ve also wanted to try some too.""Mm, they do have some good tea. Not just the green tea, but their black tea i

{Ryanna’s POV}I wiped the side of my boot, as I waited at the entrance to the rogue camp. The morning sun hadn’t even burned off the mist yet, but the air was already humming with movement. Behind me, the camp swirled like a waking beast — mumbles, boots on stone, the sharp clang of metal on metal. I adjusted the belt of my purse and tucked a few silver strands of newly cut hair behind my ear.It still felt strange and looked even weirder.I remember my reflection from staring at the mirror earlier. My hair is shorter now, hardly jaw-length. It framed my face and for the first time in a long while, I realized the woman staring back.I had soulful blue eyes whose color and depth I had long forgotten.I finally understood some of the stares I got. I was never one for short hair, but these eyes coupled with my elbow-length hair made me look like one of those seer wolves we hear about in stories of the ancients.The familiar weight of my locks faded with every strand that hit the floor l