The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 95: In the Rain

The cold was too much for her.

Why did the cold bother her? No other person was shivering.

Her eyes kept darting to the warm cloak of the man seated beside her.

The warmth radiating from him was soothing - she needed more.

The rain increased in intensity, pouring down mercilessly on everything beneath it.

The windows of the carriage had been shut to keep out the stray rain drops, but it unfortunately couldn’t keep out the cold.

The carriage rider was still steering them towards shelter.

She imagined herself in his position and shuddered. The rain would’ve killed her with its icy touch if she’d been the one riding the carriage.

"You’re freezing." Andon noticed first.

Yeren turned to her as if just realising that she was seated beside him.

"You can sit with me. I have plenty of warmth to share." Andon said, winking at the King.

Yeren glanced at him. She couldn’t see the expression on his face, but she saw Andon grin in response.

Then, Yeren removed his cloak and slung it over her shoulders.

The warmth was instant. And it smelled like him. She resisted the urge to sniff the costly fur.

The carriage came to a sudden halt.

Andon and Yeren peered out of the windows nearest to them at the same time.

"A cave?"

"We’re just waiting here so the men and the horses can have a little respite."

Andon nodded.

"Thank the gods that we decided to eat before the rains came."

She and Yeren nodded at the same time.

He could have just let her be, but his hand remained behind her, gently guiding until she rested her head on his chest.

She thought it would be weird at first, but all she felt was warmth.

And him. He smelled like pine and leather and wine, authority and him.

She nestled closer without realising it. What was wrong with her?

After watching them for a while, Andon leaned against the corner and fell asleep.

She took fell asleep.

When she work up, it was still raining hard. It was dark outside, so it was hard to tell what time of the day it was. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Yeren wasn’t in the carriage.

Andon still laid exactly where she’d seen him last, his eyes closed.

She leaned across his stretched legs to peek through the curtainsone of his eyes slid open.

"He hasn’t come back for the past hour. He’ll come back."

Her eyes lit up with questions.

"When did he leave?"

She’d been so deep in her sleep that she hadn’t noticed when he moved. And the the funny thing was that she was a light sleeper. Claire had never slept that comfortably since she had become conscious of herself.

"A little more than an hour ago."

"Did he say where he was going?"

Andon shook his head. "But he mind-linked me." When her brows drew together with concern, he laid a hand on her knee and said, "He’s capable to handling himself. He’d be back."

She glanced outside again.

Where could he have gone? The candles lit in the interior of the carriage wavered as a torrent of wind sent the curtains dancing.

"Have you gone to look for him?"

Andon let out a dry laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

"I might have done that ten years ago. But now? He’s have me hanged for belittling his agency."

She nodded, pretending to understand.

"I should go and look for him." She stood up, draping his large cloak tighter around her shoulders and left the carriage.

"It’s very wet outside." Was all he said.

The cold air outside the carriage was much worse, but she had something to shield her against it.

She could see his men clustered around a fire, their helmets nowhere to be seen as they talked amongst themselves.

They fell silent as she approached, slightly drenched from walking to where they were.

"My lady." The lot of them called out in unison.

She was undeserving of the title but she acknowledged it nonetheless.

"Where is the King?"

The carriage rider empty his skin of wine before saying, "He went in that direction and asked that he should not be accompanied." They pointed towards a dark part of the woods.

She knew she should turn back, but something prodded her to follow the direction they had named.

The rain was relentless, soaking her hair and distorting her already-blurry vision with endless water drops.

The trees looked like gloomy silhouettes from afar, encroaching in the near darkness.

"What are you doing here?"

A voice called out to her when she was about to cross a steep path.

Claire glanced behind her - she had come a very long way. The light from his men has completely vanished.

"Yeren?"

Just as she turned, a hand covered her mouth from behind.

"What are you doing here?" The same voice whispered, his breath tickling her ear. She knew without a doubt who it was.

The hand fell away.

"Looking for you."

"Why are you looking for me?"

"Because you’re out in the cold."

"That’s not what I asked you, Miss Stenly."

She fell silent. What did he expect her to say?

"I wanted to know where you went under the rain."

She could feel his drenched garments behind her, but his warmth still managed to sleep through.

"And why is that?"

"Is it so hard to believe that I care about the King I serve?"

"’The King you serve.’ Is that all I am to you?"

"Stop trying to divert from the subject at hand, Your Grace. What are you doing out here?"

She turned around and glanced into his face, half-expecting to see gleaming yellow eyes.

They weren’t yellow.

She touched the curve of his jaw gently.

"Tell me why you left the carriage. Was it because of me?"

"Yes. Yes, it was because of you. I needed to be somewhere that your scent wouldn’t steal the very air I breathe."

Her breath hitched.

"You could’ve just asked me to leave."

"Not when you did this to me." He peeled her hand away from her jaw and placed them at the bulge of his breeches.