Free Web NovelChapter 497: Chapter 497
Ragnar’s hands hovered uselessly over Circe’s burned arms, close enough to feel the heat still radiating from her skin. The blisters were already forming, angry swollen welts that rose beneath the surface, raw and red, the sight of them enough to make his stomach churn violently.
"Circe—gods, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." His voice cracked under the weight of it, strained and uneven. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to hold her close and soothe the pain away as he always did. But the sheer terror of hurting her again kept him frozen in place, his hands trembling in the air, caught between instinct and fear.
Casilo crouched beside them, the sparring match long forgotten.
"Your highness, what was that?" he demanded, his voice edged with disbelief. "Your sword was on fire. That’s not—" He cut himself off abruptly, his eyes narrowing as realization began to dawn. "That should not be possible."
Ragnar didn’t so much as glance at him. His entire world had narrowed to the woman before him. His wife, hurt and in pain because of him. Seeing her like this always had a way of fracturing something deep within him, splintering his thoughts until everything else became meaningless, as insignificant as dust carried by the wind. This was his fault. He had done this to her.
Even now, when every instinct screamed at him to gather her close and tend to her, he forced himself to be cautious. His touch lingered only briefly, feather-light and uncertain, as though any moment of carelessness might bring her more harm.
Circe let out a shaky breath, her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the pain. "It hurts," she whispered in a way that cleaved straight through Ragnar’s heart.
This was not the first time Circe had been burned. As a child, her unending curiosity had drawn her toward danger time and time again. She had hovered her small hands over flickering candle flames, fascinated by the dance of light and heat, testing just how close she could get before it became unbearable. More often than not, she had misjudged.
There had been other times too when she had spilled cups of scalding tea over her fingers, careless moments that left her with tender skin and blistered hands.
But none of those experiences could compare to this. This pain was something else entirely.
When the flames struck her, it felt as though the heat had burrowed deep beneath her skin, seeping into muscle and bone, devouring her from the inside out. A consuming force that stole the breath from her lungs and left nothing in its wake but agony. Every pulse of her heartbeat seemed to stoke the pain further, each second stretching unbearably long.
Ragnar could not bear it.
Without another word, he carefully gathered her up, mindful of her injuries, and carried her inside. He brought her back to their chambers and guided her gently onto the edge of their bed, helping her sit with her legs dangling over the side.
"Stay here," he murmured. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
He turned quickly, moving to the dresser and rummaging through its contents with unsteady hands until he found the ointment. Relief flickered across his face for the briefest moment before he returned to her side.
He crouched in front of her, positioning himself between her knees, his expression a careful mask of focus and worry. His hands, though still trembling slightly, were far more controlled now as he dipped his fingers into the ointment and began applying it gently to her burns.
Circe felt the cooling sensation spreading across her skin, soothing the angry heat that had consumed her moments before. It was the first real relief she had felt since the flames touched her, and she let out a quiet sigh.
Ragnar had yet to explain what had happened. He had not stopped apologizing, the words spilling from him again and again, each one laced with guilt and self-reproach. He looked utterly miserable.
Even through her own pain, Circe’s heart ached for him. freewebnovёl.ƈom
She lifted her hand carefully and cupped his cheek, her fingers light against his skin. The touch drew his gaze upward to meet hers. From where he crouched before her, he was almost kneeling and she knew, without a doubt, that he would do so if she asked.
"There is no need for you to apologize," she said softly. "You didn’t hurt me intentionally."
But her words did little to ease his torment.
Ragnar shook his head. "It shouldn’t have happened at all," he insisted firmly. "It just happened. I don’t know how to control it. I don’t even understand how to." His gaze dropped briefly to her arms before returning to her face, filled with anguish. "It was my fault. I hurt you."
She didn’t pull her hand away.
Instead, she watched him as he finished applying the ointment and closed the jar. When he was done, she took the opportunity to voice the question that had been lingering in her mind since that morning.
"When did you realize you could do that?" she asked quietly.
It couldn’t have been long ago, she would have known otherwise. This was new. It had to be.
Ragnar exhaled slowly. "It happened while I was traveling back," he began. "I was stopped by some of the queen’s men. One of them tried to attack me so I reached for my shadows to defend myself but instead I got flames."
He let out a humorless breath.
"Since then, I haven’t been able to summon a single shadow. Not one," he continued. "It’s like they’re gone. And now I’m left with something I don’t understand. Something I can’t control. I’m a hazard to myself and to everyone around me."
Circe’s first instinct was to deny it outright, to tell him he was wrong, to remind him of who he was. But she knew her husband well enough to understand that he would not accept empty reassurances, not in this state.
So she said nothing, allowing him to continue.
"I was badly injured during that fight, but a woman saved me. I never got the chance to thank her," he went on. "And the worst part is I don’t remember much about her. Just the fact that she has green eyes and large wings, things that I could have imagined in a pain induced hallucination. But I have a feeling she has something to do with my current situation."
