When Jiang Lang stepped into his bedroom,he was unsure of what he'd find.
He thought he would maybe find: A sleeping Xu Ling? A freshly bathed, naked Xu Ling? A ready-to- fight with him Xu Ling?
Or perhaps a ready-for-pleasure Xu Ling?
To his irritation, his heart beat erratically. His palms were sweating. "Fool," he chastised himself. He wasn't human, a servant to fear, nor was he inexperienced. Yet, he wasn't exactly sure how to handle the woman in his room, that was like a punishment to him.
What he didn't expect was to find an unconscious Xu Ling, sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a pool of what looked like blood, soaking her hair and clothes.
Darkness shuddered through him. "Xu Ling?" He was at her side instantly, crouching down, gently rolling her over and scooping her into his arms. Wine, it was only wine. Thank the gods. Droplets splashed from her too-pale face and dripped onto him. He almost smiled. Just how much had she drunk?
It was then that he realized she weighed so little, he was supposed to have realized that a long time ago. "Xu Ling, wake up."
She didn't wake up. In fact, she seemed to slip deeper into unconsciousness, the movement behind her eyelids started ceasing.
His throat was tight, and he had to force the next words out. "Wake up for me."
Not a moan, not a sigh came out of her mouth.
He immediately felt worried than he's never been by her lack of response, he carried her to the bed, ripping off her wet jacket in the process and tossing it aside. Though he didn't want to release her, he laid her on the mattress and cupped her face in his hands. Her skin was ice-cold. "Xu Ling."
Still there was no response.
Was she... No. No! A heavy feeling settled in his stomach as he flattened his palm over her left breast. At first he felt nothing. No gentle beat, no hard slam. He nearly cursed the heavens. Then, suddenly, there was a weak patter. A long pause. Another feeble patter-patter.
She was alive.
His eyes closed briefly, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Xu Ling." He gently shook her. "Come on, beauty. Wake up." What in the name of the heavenly gods was wrong with her? He didn't have any experience with drunk mortals, but he didn't think this was normal.
Her head rolled to the side; while her eyelids remained closed. Her lips were tinted a pretty but unnatural blue. Sweat trickled down his temples. She wasn't simply drunk.
No, she wasn't really drunk, something was off.
Had the night in that cell sickened her? No, there would have been signs before now. Had Lin Fan inadvertently touched her? Surely not. She wasn't coughing or covered in pockmarks. What, then?
"Xu Ling." I can't lose her. Not yet.
He hadn't gotten enough of her, hadn't touched her as he'd dreamed, hadn't talked to her.
He blinked in surprise.
He wanted to talk with her, he suddenly realized. Not just satisfy his desires with her body. Not just interrogate her about the hunter. But talk.
Get to know her and find out what made her the woman she was.
All thoughts of killing her vanished; thoughts of saving her took their place,and it was strong, undeniable.
"Xu Ling. Speak to me." He shook her again, helplessly, not knowing what else to do.
Cold continued to radiate from her, as if she'd been bathed in frost and dried in an arctic wind. He gripped the covers around her, pulled them up and tunneled them around her, trying to envelop her in warmth. "Xu Ling. Please."
Even as he watched, bruises formed under her eyes. Was this to be his punishment instead? That the gods had started punishing him through her? To Watch her die slowly and painfully?
The feeling of helplessness in himintensified.
As strong as he was, he couldn't force her to respond. "Xu Ling." This time her name came out in a hoarse plea. He shook her yet again, hard enough to rattle her soul. "Xu Ling."
Damn this! Still nothing.
"Luo Chen!" he roared, his gaze never leaving her. "Yan Lie!" As far away as he was from them, he doubted they could hear. "Help me!" Had Xu Ling called for help?
Bending down, Jiang Lang pressed his mouth against hers, trying to breathe his strength into her. Warmth... tingles...
Her blue-tinted lips parted and she moaned. Finally.
Another sign of life.
He almost howled in relief. "Talk to me, beauty." He smoothed the wet hair from her face, disconcerted to find his hands trembling. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Jiang Lang," she rasped. Still her eyes remained closed.
"I'm here. Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you need."
"Kill them. Kill the spiders." She spoke so quietly, he struggled to hear.
He brushed his fingers over her cheek as he glanced around the room. "There are no spiders, beauty."
"Please." A crystal tear squeezed past her eyelid. "They won't stop crawling on me."
"Yes, yes, I'll kill them." Though he didn't understand, he continued to trail his hands over her face, then her neck, then down her arms, stomach and legs. "They're dead now. They're dead. I promise."
That seemed to relax her a little. "Food, wine. Poison?"
He instantly paled, he felt the color drain from his face until he was likely as white as Xu Ling.
He hadn't thought... hadn't considered... The wine had been made for them, the warriors, not for humans. Since human alcohol did little for them, Feng Yue often mixed in droplets of ambrosia he'd stolen from the heavens and hoarded all these years. Was the ambrosia like a poison to humans?
I did this to her. Jiang Lang thought, horrified. Me. Not the gods. "Argh!" He slammed his fist into the metal headboard, felt his knuckles crack further and was filled with his blood.
Jiang Lang was still unappeased,
he punched the headboard again.
The bed rattled and Xu Ling moaned in pain.
Stop; don't hurt her.
He forced himself to stay still, to breathe slowly, all the while willing himself to calm for the thousandth time that day.
But the urge to brutalize anything was so dark, so bleak. So intense, it was nearly uncontrollable.
Except for that brief time following his fight with Yan Lie, he'd been on edge all day and this only pushed him further.
Any moment he might cross the threshold and cause irreparable harm.
"Tell me how to help you," he repeated.
"D-doctor."