Luna of the Beastly Lycan King

Chapter 22. Scar in-between

☉DANIKA

I tried to follow after Fergal, but he had long since gone. Nobody was looking at or for him; their gazes were all fixed on Finarfin, the Alpha king whose wounds were quickly healing. I turned so I would not see Finarfin walk away, unsure of what I was going to do next.

I had thought about warning Finarfin that his council was against him, but it was possible that he already knew about this development. I could not talk to him anyway because I had no idea what to say, and I still could not say for sure how he was going to react since I had dared to raise my voice at him before. But if I was going by what I had seen during this sparring match…

No, I shook my head. Finarfin would not hurt me. Not in that way. I hoped.

The small crowd that had been gathered before was quickly dispersing, the nobles all bore bothered expressions on their faces. Had Finarfin intended this to be a show of strength? Had he meant to pass across a message other than the fact which was that he wanted to show that he could antagonize Fergal even further?

Whatever his intentions, I was certain that the nobles would look at him with a little more reverence now, even if there were those on his council who plotted for his downfall.

“Andras,” I called out to him when I noticed that he still stood at the ring. His expression was different, unable to be put into description. As if watching Fergal and Finarfin fight had been too much emotion for the impassivity of his expressions.

I didn’t have to say a word. Andras still had the king’s armor. He stared at the armor and cuirass discarded, both Finarfin’s and Fergal’s, and called to one of the other warriors. “Make sure these get to the palace.”

The warrior nodded and moved to begin his job.

“With me.” Andras signaled.

I fell into step with him as we walked away from the sparring grounds. I did not need to look behind me; I could feel Finarfin’s eyes trailing us. I walked two steps for everyone that Andras took; I struggled to keep up the pace, skipping after him instead as we walked.

I exhaled a sigh of relief as soon as we stepped out of the sparring grounds, but Andras would still not speak. He was the one who had called me out. Now he was saying nothing. We were fast approaching the palace. I knew I would have no other chance to speak with him.

Finarfin would not stay too long at the sparring grounds and was bound to soon start heading for the palace. The minute he would make it to the palace, Andras would become too occupied with his duties as Finarfin’s royal guard to pay me any heed. And for some reason, I needed to hear what Andras had to say now.

“Andras,” I began unsteadily, “I know that you asked me to come after you, but what it is that you want to tell me? Back at the sparring grounds, you seemed disturbed.”

Andras smiled coyly. “Am I disturbed? Or did I make you think that I am disturbed?”

I contemplated his words and stared at him. He stared back, and I knew that we could stare at each other for hours and he still would not say a thing. He needed me to ask my question.

“Fergal didn’t look too pleased to be sparring with Finarfin…” I trailed. Andras was quick to answer. “He had his arms broken. Would you be pleased?”

“No, before that. He didn’t seem to like the fact that Finarfin had selected him as his sparring partner.”

“The king does not have too many rivals who can equal him in strength—or at least come close to it. You were instructed to capture the Crimson-horned stag. You saw how that went…Fergal is the Alpha King’s Beta. It is only normal for him to make sure that the people around him are strong enough to actually protect him.”

I thought about telling Andras that Fergal had confided in me about Finarfin before and how he was so angry with Finarfin. I wanted to ask Andras about that now, but I had no idea if that was going to be too much information.

I shot down the thought. Fergal had shared this with me. It was not my knowledge to pass around. But I could not truly understand the depth of Fergal’s anger at Finarfin if I had no idea what had happened between them.

“Andras… what exactly happened between Finarfin and Fergal?”

Andras offered the briefest smile, and then it was gone, replaced by a mood so grim it took me completely by surprise. We were just within view of the palace and I could already see the gleaming armour of the guards that guarded the entrances.

“Fergal and Finarfin weren’t always sworn enemies. Once, they were the best of friends. The three of them were practically inseparable.”

I frowned. “You said three.”

“Yes. At first, there was Finarfin, Fergal… and Fergal’s sister, Davina.”

“Davina.” I tasted the word in my head, trying to remember where I had heard the name before. I drew blanks. Fergal had not told me anything about a sister.

“What happened?” I breathed, eager. Andras looked at me with deeply sorrowful eyes.

“I was only a boy back then. The late Alpha king—Finarfin’s father—had wanted me to guard the young prince. Finarfin has not always had so many friends, so I was always tailing Finarfin around, without his knowledge, of course. Making sure that in what little way I could, Finarfin would stay out of trouble, and I would grow close to Finarfin too, to be on hand in case he ever needed a… friend… I was to prove myself worthy…” he trailed off, expression vacant.

The memory seemed too hard for Andras to put into words. Or perhaps he was stalling, hoping that he would not have to be the one to tell this particular story.

“They did everything together. Inseparable. And though the king may not look like it right now, he was very full of life and adventure… and mischief. It was always so difficult keeping track of Finarfin back then.” The edges of Andras’s lips curled as he said this last part, and I could only try to imagine what it must have looked like, Finarfin, young and wild and carefree and getting into all sorts of trouble. “It happened one day. I don’t know the full details, but I know that Fergal and Finarfin returned to the palace, both angry at each other and covered in bruises—Finarfin more the worse for wear—and their sister wasn’t with them. Later, there was a funeral. That was the last time they were friends.”

“Did you hear what I said, Danika?” Andras snapped his fingers at me. “Hey!”

I shook myself out of my thoughts and opened my mouth to ask a question, but at that moment, Andras’s eyes stared off into the distance. He moved away from me without a word. I spun around with him. In the distance, I could see Finarfin coming. I scowled as Finarfin approached, Andras now by his side. Fergal’s bloody streak was still on his face. A tiny satisfaction.

I glared at him, willing him to say something. To do something. But I breezed past before he could do either.

Seeing Finarfin had caused an irrational anger and I needed an outlet. I needed to do something. So I went about the palace, searching until I found Fergal’s chambers. The door was ajar. I could not help but look in when I heard Fergal groan softly.

He stood there in the middle of the room, his back turned to me. I felt myself push open the door.

“I’m so sorry, Fergal.” My hands were over my mouth; they muffled my speech.

He didn’t even turn to acknowledge my presence. He was not in the least bit shocked to see that I was standing in his room while he was only clad from his pelvis downward. His back was a tapestry of scars and his arms still hung uselessly by his sides. I could hear the soft crackle of his flesh and bones slowly being mended, but the cuts and wounds that he had sustained were still bloody.

I felt the tears slowly fill my eyes.

“Don’t,” Fergal warned. “These are mine. My wounds. I returned the favor too. Don’t cry like it was a completely hopeless affair.”

I just watched the lines of musculature on Fergal’s back. For the longest time, all I did was stare. Then I sniffed and asked if he would like me to bandage him.