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Poppy knew she should have said something. She was smarter than that; smart enough to know that hiding an injury was never a good idea. But she was also tired of being the weak link, the one who needed protection. She had always been the one that needed help as the Maiden, never being allowed to do things on her own. Vikter teaching her to fight had helped, given her some autonomy, but she always had the lingering feeling of being useless. That feeling had only deepened with the death of Rylan and then Vikter and she has internalized it without even realizing. It was definitely a habit she needed to break, but for now she could only work through it so much with everything else going on.
Members of the Dead Bones clan had ambushed her, Casteel, and Kieran as they made their way back to Spessa’s End. They had gone on a scouting mission, one that only lasted a few days but had given them a chance to see where the Blood Queen stood in terms of her army’s numbers. As they had headed back the morning had been peaceful; quiet. But then one moment her and Casteel had been idly chatting, Kieran laughing at something Cas had said, and the next the prince was flinging himself off of their horse, pulling her with him in one fluid motion as the first arrow whizzed through the air.
The next moments had been a blur of Wolven teeth and fur, the shine of Casteel’s blades, and arrows whistling through the dense brush. Poppy had positioned herself behind a tree, tracking the movements of the men and jumping out, her dagger poised and ready anytime one of them got close.
Unfortunately, one of the members had snuck up on her from behind, far enough away that neither she nor Kieran, who was close by fighting another of the group, could hear him. He fired an arrow and pain, white hot crackling fire, burned through her side.
Poppy gasped and turned to inspect the wound. Luckily the arrow had been a bit wide and so while it was a deep graze that steadily oozed blood, it had passed right through and now lay stuck into the tree she had just been hiding behind.
Pushing through the pain, she spun and promptly ducked as another arrow barely missed her head this time before Kieran suddenly leapt from behind a bush, crushing the man’s throat in his powerful jaws.
“Thanks,” she breathed, picking herself up off the ground.
Kieran made a chuffing noise and bounded back to where Casteel was fighting the remaining men.
At the end of the fight, the three of them stood there, bloodied, and full of dirt, but victorious.
“Everyone alright?” Kieran asked as he shifted back to his human form. He was, of course, naked and Poppy did everything she could to ignore that fact.
“I’m fine,” Poppy responded, and she saw Casteel look her over, his amber eyes scanning every inch of her. His eyes settled on the ripped patch of her shirt coated in blood on her side where her wound scorched her side.
“You’re hurt,” he said, and Kieran’s head turned sharply to look at her.
Straightening, Poppy put a smile on her face. “I’m okay, Cas. It’s from one of the men I killed. He ripped my shirt trying to get to me, but I got there first.”
Casteel didn’t speak for a moment as he took her words in, his eyes still scanning her carefully. But then he relaxed, and a small smile curled his lips. “That’s my princess.”
Poppy rolled her eyes and turned back to where their horses were waiting, not wanting to give either of the men staring at her the chance to realize she was lying.
The wound in her side ached fiercely, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She had ripped off spare cloth from her undershirt and tied it around the wound and it seemed that the bleeding had already all but stopped. She’d make sure to clean and bandage it properly when they got to Spessa’s End, but for now this would have to do.
Kieran, now sorting a new set of pants and a tunic cut today of his saddle bag, hoisted himself up onto his horse. Poppy hesitated as she looked up at Setti and was grateful for Casteel’s help as he placed his hands on her waist and boosted her. hoisting herself up would have pulled painfully on the wound and while it had still hurt, she didn’t think it had started bleeding again from the movement.
Cas quickly joined her and then they were off, the horses’ hooves thudding rhythmically on the packed earth beneath them.
It wasn’t long before Poppy knew she had made a mistake. As each hour ticked by, she regretted her decision to hide her injury more and more.
At first the pain was a dull ache, but it had steadily built so that each minute movement sent agony rippling through her. And given the fact that she was sitting on a horse, smoothness was not in the picture. She was also hot; uncomfortably so. The weather here was still cool, threatening to turn colder as they approached the Skotos mountains but whereas she was normally just right in her cloak, it not a bit chilly, now it felt as if it were suffocating her, sweat gathering around her temples and on the back of her neck. The wound site now felt like it was made of burning coals and Poppy was beginning to think that something might be really wrong.
Determined to ride it out, she kept quiet for a bit longer as they continued down the path. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side as nausea had steadily been growing deep in the pit of her stomach. What started small had grown into full out nausea, each sway of the horse threatening to make her lunch of cheese, meat and bread reappear.
This combined with the pain radiating through her body and the heat that felt like it was melting her brain was too much. She must have been fidgeting because Casteel spoke for the first time in a while, startling her slightly. “Are you okay? You seem a bit antsy. And I can feel how warm you are through your cloak. Are you ill?”
Poppy stiffened. She truly felt horrible, but her pride just wouldn’t let her admit it.
“I’m fine,” she said thickly, swallowing the urge to gag. “I’m just wearing a lot of layers and the cloak is thick.”
Casteel was silent for a moment, and she could tell that he didn’t believe her, but he let it drop.
However, not even 10 minutes later, her body had had enough, and pride be damned, she could hide her growing misery no longer.
The sick feeling rose within her sharply and this time swallowing did nothing to help. Gods she was going to be sick.
“Cas,” she breathed, barely opening her mouth in fear that she would start vomiting right there. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Although it was more like she knew she was going to be sick, but her damn brain was still trying to deny it.
“What?” Casteel asked sharply, his grip tightening on her waist as he leaned forward to get a look at her.
Poppy’s only response was a gag, her hand flying to her mouth on instinct.
“Woah, shit. Okay, hold on,” Casteel said, as he flung himself off the horse, much like he had done earlier and hoisted her down.
He had barely set her on the ground and over by a group of bushes before she pitched forward, vomit rushing out of her mouth. Casteel held her, an arm around her waist and the other holding back her hair as she vomited.
Each heave sent a wave of fresh agony through her, and she felt tears slip down her face as her body continued to convulse.
“Easy,” Cas murmured and suddenly there was another hand on her back rubbing comforting circles. Kieran.
“What happened?” She heard Kieran ask as another heave sent a wave of hot acid up her throat.
“I’m not sure,” Casteel said. “I thought she felt a bit hot, but she said she was fine. Then she said she felt sick and well…” he trailed off and Poppy knew the sight in front of them spoke more than words could at that moment.
"I’m okay,” she wheezed hoarsely, fighting the urge to vomit again.
Cas gave a humorless chuckle. “I’m starting to think that you don’t know the meaning of those words, princess.”
Her retort was cut off as she retched again, only strings of bile coming this time, clinging to her mouth in the most disgusting way.
Kieran’s hand paused on her back. “Wait a minute,” he said slowly, “I smell blood and…” he trailed off for a moment and she could practically feel the growl in his chest as he said his next words. “ Infection. She’s hurt, Cas.”
Cas’ arms went rigid where they held her, but he didn’t move. “Poppy,” he breathed, anger tinging his words. “Where are you hurt?”
At last, the vomiting stopped, and Poppy slumped to the ground, exhausted and dizzy.
Cas, as usual, caught her and helped lower her so that she was on her knees, one arm draped across her stomach and throbbing wound and the other pressing against the ground.
“Poppy,” Cas repeated, the anger replaced with concern now.
“My side,” she rasped, throat burning from the vomiting.
Poppy felt shifting behind her and then new hands were on her back, just as calloused as Cas’s but this touch didn’t send tingles up her spine like his did.
As Kieran supported her, Cas knelt next to her and gently removed her hand from where it protected the wound. Knowing that there was no hiding it now, she lifted her hand and leaned back, not surprised when her back met Kieran’s chest.
Kieran’s hand shifted so that it was resting on her forehead. “She’s really hot, Cas.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Poppy said with a smile. Truth be told she felt really hot, and it was getting hard to concentrate. It was probably the reason she had made that goofy comment.
Kieran’s chest rumbled where her head rested on it as he laughed softly, but she could see the concern in his eyes. Cas on the other hand looked anything but amused. With careful hands he lifted the layers of clothing off of the area where the slash throbbed in time with her too-fast heartbeat. When he got to the makeshift bandage, he took his time unraveling it before slowly peeling it away. Poppy couldn’t help but let out a small groan as the scrap of clothing pulled away from the wound; the drying blood had effectively sealed the shirt to her skin.
Cas let out a soft curse when the shirt was fully peeled away, and Poppy felt Kieran tense behind her.
“You should have said something about this when it happened,” Cas chided softly, the anger back in his features.
Horror lurched in her as she felt the hot sting of tears at the back of her throat, her vision blurring. She didn’t know why she wanted to cry. All she knew was that she was hot and achy and just really wanted to sleep. Stupid feverish brain making her emotional.
Poppy saw Cas’ face soften. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m just worried about you. This is pretty badly infected.”
She took in a shaky breath as a few stray tears slipped down her too-warm cheeks. Cas moved forward then, cupping her face, and wiping the tears away with his thumbs. She leaned into the touch. His fingers felt wonderfully cool against her smouldering face.
Do you have any of that antiseptic in your bag?” Cas asked Kieran as he continued to hold her against him.
“I might. Let me go check.” The warm presence behind her disappeared and she let out a soft noise of complaint.
Casteel chuckled. “He’ll be back. He’s just getting something to help you. You’re very sick.”
“I’m sorry.”
Cas tilted her head so that she was staring into warm amber eyes. “What for?”
“For hiding this. For getting hurt. For always being the weak link…” she trailed off as her lips wobbled, fresh tears spilling down her face. They felt like lava against her already hot skin.
His expression turned sad. “You’re not the weak link, Poppy. You’re so strong. Stronger than you know. There’s no need to apologize for anything.”
Poppy nodded and rested her forehead against his chest. “I don’t know why I’m so emotional.”
“It’s just the fever, princess. No need to worry.”
They sat like that until Kieran returned, a small bottle in his hand. He handed it over to Casteel and she saw that he also had clean bandages and a canteen of water.
Cas unscrewed the top off the bottle and positioned Poppy so that she was leaning against Kieran once more.
“This is going to hurt like hell,” he said, a deep frown on his face.
Poppy gave a small smile. “It’s okay.”
His amber eyes searched her face for a moment before his lips curved into a faint smile. “Always so brave.”
Then he poured the liquid over the wound. It took all of Poppy’s willpower not to scream as the liquid hissed and frothed. It felt like acid had been poured into the wound sending zaps of lighting into her body. She writhed, trying to get away from the pain on instinct but Kieran held her in place. She felt Cas pour more of the liquid on the wound and she might have screamed then. She wasn't sure. All she could hear was buzzing in her ears and her vision flashed white. She felt like she was going to pass out and she very well might have. The next thing she knew Poppy was flat on the ground, her head in Kieran’s lap as Casteel wrapped the bandage around her midsection, making sure it was pressed tight against the wound.
Poppy noticed that his face was pale, and his lips were pulled tight, his hands trembling slightly as he worked. It had killed him to hurt her, but she knew he had also saved her life. The wound felt better already. Not perfect, but the deep throbbing ache had dulled, and her head felt clearer than before.
“Thank you,” she rasped when he was done. Cas turned to look at her and she could see golden flames in his eyes that offset the frown on his face.
“I will always be there to patch you up,” he said softly, his gaze intense, “but promise me you won’t hide any more injuries from me or Kieran. If something were to happen to you…” Cas trailed off, but Poppy knew the words that hung between them.
“I know, it was stupid. I won’t do it again.”
The golden flames in his eyes smothered and took on a warm honey hue. He picked up her hand and pressed it to his warm lips.
“Good. Now, how do you feel?”
Poppy took a moment to assess the injury. She could still feel the pit of nausea deep in her stomach and the uncomfortable warmth still wrapped around her like a too-thick blanket, but her head wasn’t swimming like it had before and the wound held only a dull throb of pain instead of the rippling waves of agony from before.
“I feel a lot better. I’m ready to keep going.”
Cas arched a brow. “Are you sure? We could rest here for the night and continue on our way tomorrow.”
Poppy shook her head and moved to stand. Cas was there immediately, hands on her arms, gently pulling her up and holding her steady as her legs wobbled. But, after a moment, her legs gained strength and she felt ready to walk on her own.
“No, let’s keep going. I know you wanted to reach the peak by nightfall, and I feel alright, really.”
Cas frowned and looked to where the cut was hiding beneath her ripped and bloodied shirt.
"Maybe I should give you blood just to make sure that the infection doesn’t come back.”
The mere thought of ingesting blood, even Casteel’s blood, lush and citrusy, caused her stomach to turn. If she drank anything at that moment, she was sure she would immediately be sick again.
“No, I’m fine. The wound feels a lot better already.”
Casteel sighed and turned his head to look at Kieran. The Wolven shrugged. “I’d feel better if she drank from you as well, but that disinfectant is strong. It should do the job.”
Poppy figured Casteel didn’t want to back down, but he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to either, so he turned back to her and gave a reluctant nod. She smiled slightly and Casteel returned the gesture as he walked over and placed an arm around her shoulders, gently squeezing the shoulder where his hand rested as he steered her back to where the horses had been abandoned in the clearing.
She should have known that she wouldn’t get that lucky. The peak was half a day’s ride from where they had been attacked and about 4 hours from where they had stopped when Poppy had gotten sick.
The wound that had felt much better before they set off again had become increasingly more painful as they continued to ride. And it was becoming annoyingly more present that her fever was rising with it and of course, with that, the nausea. Poppy pushed through it again, this time desperate to convince herself that it wasn’t happening, but she reached her breaking point as the sun began to set and they were in the last hour of their journey.
Casteel, who had been closely monitoring her, had kept asking her if she was alright, most likely sensing all of the rising discomfort in her. She had steadily denied anything was wrong, insisting she was fine, until he superseded her answer.
“You’re not fine Poppy,” he said, the world slowly being overtaken by shadows as the sun set. “I can feel that your fever is up again, and I know that you’re in pain. We need to stop, and you need to rest.”
Before Poppy could respond, Kieran pulled the reins of his horse so that he was rising next to them. “And feed,” he added, concern coating his features. “I can smell the infection again. The disinfectant isn’t strong enough.”
Poppy shook her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to feed. She knew it would help. But the nausea was taking her by full force. It was taking all of her willpower not to gag at the mere thought of drinking blood. The thick coating as the hot rush of blood filled her mouth and throat, the lush scent and decadent taste that lingered even after she finished feeding. Oh gods. She gagged, her brain cruelly sending images and phantom tastes of her past feedings.
She heard Cas curse and then the horse had stopped. Blood pounding in her ears, she only vaguely felt a gentle hand sweep back the hair that had escaped her braid as another wrapped around her waist as she leaned forward away from the horse.
The added pressure on her stomach tipped her over the edge and she heaved, acidic bile burning her throat and nose. There was nothing left in her stomach after her first round of vomiting hours before, so this time it was more painful as she retched emptily. The dry heaving seemed to last for an eternity and when she was finally done, she slumped against Casteel’s chest, feeling like she could barely lift a finger. She was so exhausted. Her body ached and she was so cold.
She began to shiver, and Casteel quickly removed his own cloak and wrapped it around her. The lingering heat from his body helped, but the chill was bone deep. It felt like she would never be warm again.
Things moved in a quick blur after that. Poppy could feel Setti’s powerful muscles moving beneath the saddle as he galloped. She could also hear Casteel talking but could barely make out the words. Her head felt thick and fuzzy, like it was shrouded in the mist the craven hid themselves in.
Time warped and Poppy wasn’t sure if she drifted in that haze for hours or minutes, but the next thing she knew were hands on her waist and then she was floating. The hands carried her and then she was set softly on the ground, something soft and warm cushioned beneath her head. She was dying. She could feel it deep inside her, the growing coldness that threatened to consume her.
"You’re not dying,” a soft voice said in her ear. “I’m going to make sure of that. But you need to drink Poppy. Please.”
The voice sounded worried, and Poppy wanted to reassure them that it was going to be okay, but she didn’t think it was and she didn’t want to lie.
A rich scent, fresh citrus in crisp snow, filled her and instead of being repulsed by it, her body pulled her toward it, demanding that she drink. She felt the need deep in her stomach, a demand that would only be satisfied by the taste of that lush blood, his lush blood.
Poppy opened her mouth and then the taste hit her tongue. She latched greedily and pulled, the hot rush of citrusy heaven making her sigh in relief.
“There you go,” the voice purred, “keep drinking Poppy. That’s good.”
She obeyed, had no control not to as her body demanded more and more of the blood. She seemed to drink forever, the need for the blood an endless ache, but then something inside of her shifted and she eased back, content and so warm. The chill that had penetrated her bones had fled and, in its place, a hot buzz of warmth coursed through her.
Poppy felt her body being moved and then she was resting on something else, but it was just as soft and warm as the first thing she had laid on.
Content and warm, the pain from the wound and sickness a distant memory, Poppy felt her body pull her into sleep, the last thing she felt were warm fingers threatening through her hair.
Warm sunlight caressed her cheek as Poppy woke slowly. She took a moment to orient herself and memories of yesterday flashed through her mind. The hot burning pain of the wound, the sickness that had taken root deep inside her, the cold that had frozen her to her core. Taking stock of her body now, though, she felt none of that. The pain in her side was gone completely and she didn’t feel sick. In fact, she felt good- strong. Her limbs no longer ached and the fog that had shrouded her thoughts had cleared completely.
Poppy’s eyes fluttered open and a shape above her came into focus, gold eyes shining brightly in the rising sun.
“Cas,” she whispered, her voice hoarse due to her dry throat.
He smiled, a hint of a dimple appearing in his left cheek. “Princess,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You scared us.”
Poppy pushed herself up, feeling Cas’s hands on her back as he helped her sit, and saw that Kieran was sitting close, his winter-blue eyes watching her carefully.
“What happened?” she asked, accepting the bottle of water Cas gently pushed into her hands.
“The wound became severely infected again,” Kieran explained as she drained the bottle, the cool water soothing her dry throat. “You were completely out of it and that’s when I realized that the infection had reached your blood. If we didn’t act fast, we could have lost you.” Kieran cleared his throat, an unreadable emotion crossing his face. Poppy opened her senses and felt a mix of things from him. Concern, guilt, and most prominently- fear. She really had scared them.
Cas brushed a loose strand of her hair back with his hand and Poppy met his golden eyes. She could see the pain and fear in them.
“We rushed to the peak where we could set camp; when you took a turn for the worse, we had started the steepest ascent. It’s too dangerous to camp there, so we knew our only shot was to make it here. You were so pale…” he trailed off and she saw how much he had been affected by the way the muscles in his jaw ticked.
“Thank the gods we got here in time. I gave you my blood and colour began to return to your face. In the next few hours your fever broke, and your wound completely healed.”
Poppy stared into his eyes, the dark smudges beneath them a testament to his concern and exhaustion from watching her all night.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shame, her shame, coating her tongue. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”
Casteel’s face turned sad, his eyes blazing with emotion. “Poppy,” he started, his head tilted as he studied her intently, “this wasn’t your fault. You were hurt. And I will always do everything I can to make sure that you are okay. If anything were to happen to you…” he continued, echoing his words from earlier.
He clenched his jaw and looked toward the sky. Poppy reached up and cupped her hand on his cheek, pulling his face so that it was looking at hers again. “Thank you. For everything.”
Cas leaned down and pressed another kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into his arms.
“Always.”