When Snow woke up again it was so bright outside that, even indoors, his eyes teared-up forcing him to blink several times before he was able to focus his sight. He hadn’t want to fall asleep, especially with that dark monster sitting by his bed, but in the end exhaustion had gotten the better of him and his eyes had simply closed, refusing to open again.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up and winced when his arm hurt. There was a blanket covering him, he realized, but he didn’t remember covering himself. In fact, in his stubborn attempt to stay awake, he hadn’t even slipped between the satin sheets.

“If you’re awake drink your soup,” a voice told him, startling him, and Snow peered behind the heavy ivory drapes hanging from the bed's canopy.

As to be expected, there he was.

The dark monster was sitting at a table, a bunch of papers scattered in front of him. He appeared to be reading, even though from where Snow sat all he could see was a large mass of darkness.

Snow's gaze turned to the bedside-table and he saw the pale-green porcelain bowl with a matching lid resting there. A silver spoon accompanied it. He knew it was made of silver just by its smell, and he immediately discarded the possibility of picking it up.

Scooting closer to the bedside-table, Snow removed the lid and took a deep breath when the delicious aroma filled the air. He’d been hungrier than he’d thought, he realized, carefully picking up the bowl so he wouldn’t spill its precious content. His hands shook a bit but he still managed to take it to his parched lips.

It tasted amazingly and it was still warm, bringing him that wonderful comforting sensation. He’d gone back to being fed soups and broths, he noticed, but right then he didn’t mind it.

While he ate Snow took another peek at the monster. Had he been there the entire time? Frowning he couldn’t decide if the idea made him feel restless or reassured him.

Three loud knocks startled him again, his gaze flying to the door, his heart beating faster in anticipation. But whoever had knocked on the door didn’t wait for a reply, and Snow relaxed again when he recognized the dark-haired man that stepped into the room. Seeing him awake a fake smile immediately took over his face, his green eyes scanning him all the way from his head to his feet and back up again.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle, but Snow simply averted his gaze, refusing to reply.

ZenTar sighed at the rude manner in which he’d just been ignored and made his way to the table where the monster kept reading.

“We’ve caught up with them and dragged them back. The Henniner and two others,” he reported and Snow slowly put down his bowl at the sound of those words. “They had this with them,” ZenTar went on, placing a black bag with a silver star on the table. Snow’s heart skipped a beat as he immediately recognize it, and he couldn’t help clench his hands into tight fists when the monster opened it to look inside. “What do you want me to do?”

“Kill them. But be quiet about it. No need to stir things up more than they already are.”

ZenTar nodded and turned to leave, giving him another fake smile on his way out.

Snow just sat there, staring at the black bag.

He knew what was inside it. For years he could no longer count, more than the ropes that had kept him prisoner, that had been his heaviest, unbreakable chain. And now it was right there, within that monster’s grasp. He also knew that the monster was aware that his blood was special and yet, for reasons he could not fathom, up till then, he hadn’t tried to bleed him so he could try it out himself. Now, however, it was right there, within his reach, and Snow couldn’t help fear that, once he first-handedly realized what his blood could do, he’d be dragged back to being a mere blood supplier, kept alive but not allowed to live at all.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Drink your soup,” the voice commanded and his hands shook again but didn’t move. Always undulating, the dark mass turned his way, blue eyes glaring coldly at him. “Are you deaf now? I need you to regain your strength as soon as possible. We’re leaving in two days time,” he declared and stared at him, for a moment, before his blue eyes turned to the black bag that was clearly the center of Snow’s attention. “Are you worried about this?” he asked, placing a hand over the bag, and Snow couldn’t help flinch, certain that he was going to open it again.

Standing up, the dark monster crossed the bedroom and simply dropped the bag at his side.

Snow’s eyes widened in confusion and disbelief.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Wasn’t that yours to begin with?”

Yes. Yes it was, he thought, looking at the bag now resting next to him. But did that mean he didn’t want it? The man that had took it from him had said that it could save lives. It could heal all kinds of illness. At the very least he had expected the monster to want to keep it, so he may use it in the future, when and if needed.

“Dispose of it whichever way you want. I couldn’t care less.”

Snow lowered his head, squeezing the soft fabric of his pants, and shook his head.

“You don’t want to? Want to keep it?” the monster asked in a surprised tone and Snow shook his head again. “Damn brat! Speak up!” he demanded, raising his voice, and Snow flinched.

“I can’t …” he replied in a barely audible whisper and the monster looked at him for a moment, as if trying to make sense of his scarce words.

"You can’t get rid of it?” he tried to confirm but didn’t receive a reply. “Are you afraid of blood? You’re such a freak!” he declared angrily and grabbed the bag again.

The air around them cooled down, the darkness surrounding him becoming heavier, and suddenly a black, cold flame enveloped the bag reducing it to cinders in a matter of seconds.

Snow’s eyes widened in disbelief. Just like that, he thought, looking up at the blue eyes still staring at him. Effortlessly, without a second thought, he’d gotten rid of his heaviest chain.

“You listen to me, damn brat! I am not, and will never be, interested in your blood, or in your power, or in anything that comes from you, you understand? As far as I’m concerned you’re merely a huge, royal pain in my ass, and one I have to get rid of before you get me killed. I never asked or wanted to be chosen by a Celestial and I fucking wish you had chosen someone else! Since what’s done is done and there’s no going back, until I find a way to permanently get rid of you, I will keep you safe. Which means you are not allowed to leave my side! If you do, I will restrain you, even if I have to stuff you back inside a box. Are we clear?”

Snow nodded, even though he wasn’t clear at all about a lot of what he’d said.

“Now drink your damn soup! Afterwords try those clothes on,” he went on, pointing a chair, and Snow noticed the small pile of clothes that had been carefully place there. “Logically we didn’t pack kid’s clothes and the Fortress didn’t have any either. So MenTar fixed them as best he could. They’ll probably still be too big but there’s nothing we can do about that, with how scrawny you are. We’ll buy you new ones once we reach Weiin,” he declared and simply returned to the table, siting down to resume his reading.

Snow stared at the pile of clothes for a long while. He could see at least three tunics, two pairs of pants and a warm-looking cloak. Clothes, he tumbled the word in his mind. They were giving him clothes to wear. Real clothes, not some dirty rags. Lowering his gaze, he did his best to blink away his tears and went back to drinking his soup.

He spent the rest of the day in that bedroom, but so did the dark monster, his presence mostly as silent as his own.

ZenTar came and went a few times, reporting on how the preparations for the upcoming departure were progressing, always leaving with new instructions. But he never mentioned the healer or the other two men again.

Besides him, only a younger man came several times into the room, carrying broths, fruits and plenty of water for him to eat and drink. Though he could only eat a little at a time, from the time he’d woken up until nightfall, he had a total of six light meals.

Once the night fell food was brought for the monster as well; a rich plate of roasted meat, potatoes and carrots, but Snow found himself unable to envy his meal. Something about the mere smell of it was just sickening, leaving him queasy.

The monster had just finished his meal when ZenTar returned to inform that some prince was seeking an audience and, to Snow’s surprise, the monster simply nodded and ordered him in.