Iria.
Lythian did not know that the girl was Seven's personal maid— not even the faintest idea.
Step.
Walking forward, Lythian crouched beside the maid's lifeless body and dug his fingers into the blood-soaked dirt as he struggled to ground himself against the nausea that clawed its way up his throat.
The decision of 'eating another person's meat' was easy.
Yet the act was anything but.
Still, Lythian pulled out the dagger.
"I hate this…"
The maid's body was cold, and faint scents of herbs still clung to the tainted dress she wore.
Beside her was an empty cup above a tray.
Lythian did not hesitate to grab the cup. After all, it can be used to collect her blood as a replacement for water.
He turned his gaze back to Seven, who lay unconscious to where he had left him.
But survival demanded pragmatism, not sentiment.
"Fuck it."
He sliced the knife
But at the last second, his hands trembled and the blade of the dagger slipped which cut his own palm. He immediately clutched his hand out of pain, but seconds later, the wound healed.
Haah…
He took a deep breath and prepared himself for another attempt.
Sla—
Howl.
Mid-slash, Lythian paused and was caught off-guard by a sudden howl. Looking ahead, there he saw a wolf staring right into him from the forest.
It was too big to be just a wolf pup, but not large enough to be called a full-grown wolf.
The only thing that set it apart was the scar on its left eye.
Lythian smirked.
"A wolf is tastier than dead shit."
He gripped the knife as tight as he could, willing to use all of his remaining strength to hunt the wolf. Zaen crackled and enveloped both his dagger and his feet as he readied himself for the offense.
But just as he was about to move, Lythian froze.
"This fucker…"
His eyes locked with the wolf's.
"He's not alone…"
The forest behind the wolf shifted as a subtle rustling of leaves indicated that something was behind it.
As if summoned by his thoughts, three wolves emerged from the right of the scarred wolf followed by another three on the left.
Hff…
Haah…
Lythian's breath came ragged as his gaze swept over the seven wolves. The six newly appeared wolves carried pieces of raw meat in their jaws.
Howl.
At the sound of the middle and scarred wolf, the six wolves dropped the raw meat before them.
The scarred wolf stepped forward, its sharp eyes fixed on Lythian while the other six wolves stood still.
Step.
It halted inches away before Lythian and the maid's corpse.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then the scarred wolf raised its head to the sky.
Howl.
As it howled, the six wolves beside him turned and disappeared into the forest, one by one, leaving the raw meat behind.
Growl.
Lythian's stomach churned. His trembling hand clutched the hilt of his blade, but his eyes drifted to the fresh meat lying on the ground.
Step.
Ignoring the scarred wolf, he walked past it and towards the meat.
Step. Step.
Until he was standing over the pile of raw meat.
Slowly, he knelt down with reached for a piece with shaky hands but his fingers refused to touch it as he heard a low growl.
The scarred wolf.
It still stood there, inches away from the maid's corpse, watching Lythian.
"...?"
He tore his gaze away from the wolf and bit the meat.
Bite.
The taste of blood and iron filled his mouth as he bit into it.
Growl.
The low growl intensified and grew loider. Yet, the wolf remained still and did nothing.
"Fuck…"
Lythian chuckled.
He wiped off the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Staring at the remaining scraps of raw meat, Lythian's jaw clenched before shifting his gaze to Seven.
"...Even the fucking wolf wants you alive."
Lythian picked the scraps of meat up and walked back.
Step.
He crouched and dropped the meat right onto Seven's face.
Lythian's eyes darted between the meat and Seven.
His stomach growled again but it was not from hunger this time. Instead, it was from the sheer absurdity of what he was about to do.
"Fucking insane…"
Lythian gripped a piece of meat.
It was slimy and cold in his hands, as the blood was still fresh. Even he, himself, had no idea where the wolves got the meat from.
But Seven's lips were closed.
Feeding someone unconscious was dangerous. He remembered that choking was a real possibility.
"Try not to die, fucker."
Lythian leaned forward and pried Seven's jaw open, careful not to force it too much.
Using his fingers, he tore the meat into smaller pieces and pushed one into Seven's mouth.
"Chew, damn it."
Lythian muttered, knowing full damn well it was not possible.
"Fucking chew it!"
He massaged Seven's throat, more out of frustration than hope.
Nothing.
Lythian's frustration bubbled up.
He tore another piece of meat and chewed it himself, breaking it down before forcing it into Seven's mouth.
Then, he pinched Seven's nose shut and pressed his lips over the unconscious Seven's, forcing the mashed meat and air down his throat.
Lythian pulled back, coughing, and wiping his mouth.
"This is fucking disgusting…"
But because of it, Seven's throat bobbed slightly and swallowed the meat.
"It worked."
But the relief was fleeting. Seven's shallow breathing did not steady, and his body still lay limp.
Blurghh…
On the verge of throwing up, Lythian dug his fingers into the remaining scrap of meat. He tore another piece, smaller this time, and placed it in his mouth, chewed on it furiously.
…Until it was soft enough.
Looking behind his back, the scarred wolf was no longer there.
He then closed his eyes and leaned over as he pried Seven's jaw open.
Instead of mouth-to-mouth feeding, he just pushed the chewed meat onto Seven's tongue and massaged his throat,
"Fuck. I ain't doing that again."
Seven's throat bobbed, but this time something went wrong. His body twitched, and his chest heaved unnaturally.
Lythian froze.
"Shit."
Seven coughed violently, his body convulsing as he choked on the meat lodged in his throat.
"Breathe, fuck it! Breathe!"
Lythian slapped Seven's back to force it out.
Sigh.
There was no other choice; Seven needs force-feeding.
Lythian tore off a piece of meat and chewed it in his mouth. He leaned over, ready to force-feed him.
But Seven's eyes fluttered open.
"...?!"
"...!!"
Their gazes met.
Lythian, mid-motion, his mouth full of half-chewed meat.
Seven, confused, his eyes wide-open.
"What the fud—"
Seven coughed, and the leftover meat that was still stuck in his throat finally dislodged and flew.
Lythian quickly pulled himself away, swallowed the chewed meat in his mouth, before wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
"Fucker."
Lythian said disgustedly.
"I had to improvise."
Seven groaned and propped himself up weakly on one elbow.
"You—"
He coughed again.
"What… are you doing?"
"Keeping you alive."
Lythian tossed the remaining piece of raw meat onto the ground beside him.
Seven wiped his mouth and stared at the meat, then at Lythian, before dragging a shaky hand over his face.
"I'd rather die than—"
"You're welcome."
Lythian stood up, brushed off his pants, and glanced toward the forest.
Seven scowled but said nothing.
Somehow, he felt relief as Lythian was willing to go this far just to save him even if it was because of the slave seal.
But as he imagined what just happened, maybe it would have been better to die instead.
"Slave."
Seven said as he looked at the dagger Lythian held.
"Stab yourself ten times."
"You fuc—"
Stab.
"I'll fucking kill—"
Stab. Stab.