All Chapters of The Lycan King's Fearless Little Warrior: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Elsie’s POV The long house was a low stone building with a thatched roof and a single big room. It smelled like a hundred things at once, like crushed leaves, vinegar, smoke, and warm wool. Bundles of dried herbs hung from every rafter, and shelves of clay jars ran along the walls. In the center, on a wooden table scrubbed pale by years of use, four villagers laid Quinn down. I stayed right beside him. Nobody asked me to move. The tall woman with the grey eyes was named Rian. She was the village’s head healer, and she said it with no pride at all, the way someone might say they were the person who fixed the roof. She had washed her hands in a basin of something that smelled sharply of vinegar, rolled up her sleeves, and turned to me. “I will need to hear everything,” she said. “Every detail, from the beginning. Do not leave anything out because you think it is unimportant. Sit. Speak.” I sat on a stool beside the table and told her. I told her about the battle, and Ezra’s claws,

Elsie's POV “He might,” Rian said. “He might forget everything about the last year. Or the last three months. Or nothing at all. I cannot tell you which. I can only tell you that of a hundred like him, I would expect sixty to live, and of those sixty, perhaps thirty to lose something. Some small, some large.”“And if we don’t?”“If we choose the gentle way, thirty or so live, and most will keep their minds, but their bodies may never recover. If we choose the second, more will live, but some will not be the same when they wake.” Rian folded her hands. “I have made the choice for others many times. It is the worst part of my work. But I will not make this one for you. He is yours to decide for.”“How long do I have?” I asked.“Until dawn tomorrow. That is when I must begin, if we are going to do the second way. His heart will not hold the first for long, and the second needs his strength while he still has some. If you choose the gentle way, I will begin the same morning, only differe

Elsie’s POVRian started with the sleeping draught.She sat beside Quinn at the head of the table, with a small cup of warm honey water in her hand, and told me that the first step was to let it wear off. “Nothing can go fast,” she said. “If we stop it all at once, his heart could fail. It will fade over the day. By nightfall, he should begin to stir.”“Stir?” I asked.“Move. Groan. Sweat. That is a good sign.” She lifted his head with one hand and tipped the cup into his mouth. “It means his body is remembering how to fight.”The long house filled up quickly. Two of the village women arrived with baskets of leaves and jars of dark liquid, and three younger men came in with buckets of water from the creek. Hunter and Randel set up a big wooden tub near the hearth, and Nolan and Piers carried in barrels of cold water and stacked them against the wall.“Cold water is for the fever,” Rian explained to me. “When it climbs too high, we put him in the tub, and it pulls the heat out. It is t

Elsie's POV “His water is coming out dark as ink,” Luciana whispered to me, looking at the basin the young man carried past. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to laugh, or cry, or both. I didn’t do either. I just watched. Hunter and Randel carried Quinn to the tub one last time near dawn. When they lifted him out, I knew immediately that something was different. His face was still flushed, but the wild, glassy look was gone from his eyes, which were closed. His breathing was deep and even. His body wasn’t shaking anymore. “Pulse,” Rian said. Luciana took his wrist. She counted for a long time. “Fifty-eight,” she said, her voice breaking. “Rian. Fifty-eight. And it’s strong. It’s so strong.” “And his skin?” I touched his forehead. It was warm, but not burning. It was damp with plain, clean sweat. There was no glow. “It’s over,” Rian said. She sat back on her heels, and I saw that her hands were trembling. “The fever has broken. The mushroom is dead. Most of the wolfsbane has left h

Quinn's POV My limbs were heavy, my skin felt paper-thin, and the lingering residue of whatever had nearly killed me sat cold in the back of my throat.Even more disturbing was that I had never felt such waves of sadness and exhaustion rolling off one person before. It felt so crushing that I could barely breathe. To worsen the case, the female smelled like me and mine.Actually, I knew that she was telling the truth about being my mate because of the bond I could feel. But not having memories to go with what I was feeling was unnerving—and nothing unnerves me. I am the Lycan King.When did this even happen? I could not imagine myself having a mate, much less a fated one. Wait, where did that come from? She could have been my chosen mate.Anyways, for now, until I have a better grip on myself, I will treat her like a stranger, which she really is at this moment.She had gone out before, but she reentered the room and waited by a corner with her arms loosely folded over her chest. I d