Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 236: Chapter 236

The attack on the carriage had not matched Narfor’s usual methods. It lacked the precision, the singular focus. None of his previous attacks had involved such a large group like the one from two nights ago.

That inconsistency alone had bothered him. And just as his thoughts had begun to spiral once more, word arrived from his scouts, reports of similar attacks that had occurred within the eastern region. Travelers, merchants, even noble entourages had been targeted by rebels.

Had they somehow crossed into Amris?

The rebels in question were not driven by any righteous agenda. They had no true cause. Their aim was simple and destructive: to undermine the king’s authority and seize power through chaos and fear.

Much had transpired while Circe lay unconscious.

Ragnar had received a letter from the king informing him that the leader of a rebel camp that was previously dismantled had somehow escaped the palace dungeons. Worse still, the escape had occurred nearly a week prior. The delay in informing him spoke volumes. The king had clearly chosen to exhaust his own resources before involving Ragnar.

Thanks to the informants Ragnar maintained within the palace walls, he had known of the escape long before the king’s letter ever arrived. He had also been summoned to the capital. But with Circe lying motionless and vulnerable in his bed, Ragnar had refused the journey outright, sending Casilo in his stead.

He had written back to the king as well, detailing the ambush and Circe’s condition, offering them as explanation for his absence. It was the first time Ragnar had ever refused a direct command from the king. Even with justification, the act had felt foreign and unnatural to him. Yet he would do it again without hesitation.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

Ragnar rose immediately, already knowing who stood on the other side. He opened it to find the physician waiting, bowing deeply as soon as the door swung inward.

"Your Highness."

Ragnar nodded once and stepped aside, allowing the man entry. "She has regained consciousness," he said.

The words were noticeably calmer than the clipped, sharp commands Ragnar had been issuing to everyone else since the attack. Even the physician seemed to notice the difference.

The man turned his attention toward the bed, where Circe lay awake now, blinking at him curiously.

He bowed respectfully in her direction before beginning his examination. Once again, he found nothing amiss. Her body was healthy. The only concern was fatigue from prolonged unconsciousness and lack of nourishment.

"Light broth first," he advised. "A proper meal can follow later."

Ragnar listened carefully, then dismissed him once the examination was complete, ordering that the broth be brought up immediately.

He closed the door softly behind the physician and returned to Circe without delay. He lifted the pitcher of water from the bedside table and poured some into a cup. Climbing back onto the bed, he held it carefully, bringing it to her lips.

"Slowly," he murmured.

He fed her small sips, pausing often, watching her closely to be sure she didn’t choke. When he was satisfied, he placed the cup back on the nightstand beside the half-empty pitcher.

The broth would arrive any moment now.

Ragnar settled back beside her, his arms curling around her as if by instinct. He could not help himself. After what had happened—after nearly losing her—the need to touch her burned deep in his chest. He needed the reassurance that she was there with him, listening to the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

He touched her now, silently reminding himself that she was here. Alive and awake. fгeewebnovёl.com

Circe had spoken little since regaining consciousness, still disoriented, still gathering the scattered pieces of her mind. Silence stretched between them, comfortable and unbroken, filled only by the quiet rhythm of her breaths.

Ragnar took advantage of it.

"There’s something I need to ask you," he said gently, his tone careful, as though he feared startling a wounded creature.

"Have you always healed like that?"

It had crossed his mind that she might have known of her ability all along and had simply chosen to keep it hidden from him for reasons of her own.

"You would be the first human I have ever met with the ability to heal so quickly," Ragnar said quietly.

Yet his tone carried no accusation. If anything, it was reassuring, an unspoken promise that she did not need to fear him. She was safe with him, and that safety extended to her secrets as well.

Circe understood immediately what he was referring to. She had lost consciousness only after her skin finished knitting themselves together, the act having drained her so completely that when oblivion claimed her, she had almost welcomed it. There was no doubt in her mind that he had seen it happen.

Even though she did not fully understand how she had done it, it felt wrong to lie to him. So she told him the truth, or at least as much of it as she knew.

"I’ve never been able to heal like that before," she said honestly, her voice still weak from exhaustion. "I don’t know how it happens, or how to control it." She hesitated before continuing, shame flickering briefly in her eyes. "Once, I tried cutting my wrist to see if it would happen again, but nothing of the sort did."

Ragnar scowled at that. The idea that she had intentionally harmed herself clearly did not sit well with him. No one was permitted to hurt Circe, not even Circe herself.

"But there is something I’ve been keeping to myself for a while," she added carefully, her tone tentative, as though she feared this confession more than the last.

When Ragnar did not interrupt or press her, she took that as permission and began to explain. She told him about the woman who had been infiltrating her dreams, about the strange place she found herself pulled into, and about the revelations that had been laid bare during their last encounter. freewēbnoveℓ.com

The last thing Circe wanted was to be seen as something other, something unnatural or dangerous. But she also knew that if she truly wanted answers, she could not keep burying the truth and hoping it would simply fade away. And if there was anyone capable of helping her make sense of it all, it was the man lying beside her now.

Ragnar listened to every word without interruption. As she spoke, his features gradually settled into a blank, carefully controlled mask. So utterly expressionless was his face that by the time Circe finished, she had no idea what thoughts were forming behind his eyes.