Chapter 2:The Prophet’s Wound
1901 Words
Seraphina’s POV
The bedroom door swung open without warning.
I jerked upright so fast that the book resting on my lap slipped onto the floor.
“Caspian?”
He stepped inside without answering.
The moment I saw him clearly, every word caught in my throat.
His white dress shirt was soaked in blood.
Dark stains spread across the fabric from his left side, dripping steadily onto the polished wooden floor behind him. His black coat hung loosely over one shoulder, as though he no longer had the strength to wear it properly.
For the first time since I met him, he didn’t look untouchable.
He looked exhausted, he closed the door quietly behind him before turning the lock.
The soft click echoed through the room.
My pulse quickened.
“What happened?” I asked, already moving toward him. “Who did this to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” His voice remained calm, but it sounded rougher than usual.
“It matters if you’re bleeding like this.”
He ignored my words. Instead, he walked past me with slow, measured steps and stopped beside the bed.
He pulled a small black leather medical kit from beneath his coat and placed it on the mattress.
The metal clasp struck the wood with a dull sound.
“Open it.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“The bag.”
I didn’t move. “Caspian…”
“I don’t have much time.”
Only then did I notice the way his breathing had changed.
Each breath was slower than the last, as though every movement demanded more effort than he wanted to admit.
I hurried toward him. “Sit down.”
He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed without protest.
The movement was careful, almost controlled, but I caught the slight tightening of his jaw before his face became expressionless again.
My eyes dropped to the blood spreading across his shirt. “There is so much blood.”
“I know.”
“You need to go to a hospital.”
“No.”
“You need a doctor.”
“No.”
“You could die.”
He looked up at me. “I won’t.”
The certainty in his voice unsettled me. “How can you possibly know that?”
“I just do.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “This isn’t normal.”
“Neither is tonight.”
I reached for my phone on the bedside table. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
His hand caught my wrist before I could pick it up, his grip wasn’t painful.It was firm enough to stop me. “No doctors.”
“Caspian, let go. They can save your life.”
“They can’t.”
His hand slipped away from my wrist. “Open the medical kit.”
I looked between him and the bag. “I don’t know how to treat a wound like this.”
“You’ll follow my instructions.”
“I’ve never stitched anyone before.”
“Tonight will be your first time.”
Fear settled heavily inside my chest. “What if I make it worse?”
“You won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do.”
His answer frustrated me. “You keep saying things like they’re facts.”
“They are.”
I let out a shaky breath. “You don’t even look worried.”
“Worry changes nothing.”
I looked down at the growing pool of blood beneath his feet. “It changes something for me.”
For the first time since entering my room, his eyes softened slightly, not with kindness, not with comfort, only with quiet understanding. “You don’t like seeing blood.”
“No.”
“You’ll have to look anyway.”
He slowly unbuttoned the ruined shirt, the fabric peeled away from his chest.
I covered my mouth before I could stop myself, a deep cut stretched across his ribs.
The edges of the wound were dark and uneven, as though whatever had caused it wasn’t an ordinary blade.
Fresh blood continued to flow despite the pressure of the soaked fabric.
“Oh, my… ” The words escaped before I realized I had spoken. “Who could do something like this?”
His expression remained unreadable. “The person responsible is no more to even do it again again.”
The calmness in his voice frightened me more than the wound itself.
I knelt beside the medical kit and opened it with trembling fingers.
Everything inside was arranged perfectly, bandages, sterile gloves, needles, surgical thread, antiseptic, medical scissors.
It looked less like an emergency kit and more like something prepared for moments exactly like this.
I slowly lifted my eyes to him.
“You’ve done this before.”
“I’ve had to.”
“How many times?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into the kit, picked up a pair of gloves and placed them in front of me. “Wear them.”
I hesitated. “Caspian…”
His pale grey eyes met mine. “Clean the wound first.”
I swallowed hard.
My hands refused to stop shaking as I pulled on the gloves.
Every instinct told me I shouldn’t be doing this.
I wasn’t a doctor, wasn’t even trained in first aid.
Yet the amount of blood on his chest told me there wasn’t time to keep arguing.
I reached for the antiseptic bottle. “If this hurts…”
“It will.”
“I’ll try to be careful.”
“It doesn’t matter ”
"What if I mess up?" I whispered.
"You won't." His glowing blue eyes locked onto mine. " So do it."
My hands shook violently as I unzipped the kit.
“Come closer,” he ordered softly.
“I am close,” I whispered, hugging my arms.
“Not close enough. Step between my legs.”
"Caspian..." I breathed out nervously. "I shouldn't."
"Why?" he challenged. His eyes flashed with a dark fire. "Are you scared of the blood, or are you scared of how close we are going to be?"
"I'm scared of hurting you," I whispered.
"I don't care about the pain," he murmured, his voice dropping deeper. "I said step between my knees, Seraphina. Let me feel you."
I swallowed hard and stepped between his parted knees. The moment my bare skin brushed against his pants, a dark, heavy heat settled in the room. His thighs were hard as rock, pressing against my legs and trapping me in.
“This is going to hurt,” I warned him.
“I’m used to pain,” he replied. “Especially when you are the one causing it.”
"I really don't want to hurt you," I said softly.
"I just want your hands on me," he whispered back. His voice was so deep and dark it sent shivers down my spine. "Touch my skin."
I pressed the wet wipe to his raw skin. The second my fingertips touched him, a strange, powerful shock traveled up my arm.
"Ah," I gasped softly, my whole body tingling.
"You feel it too, don't you?" he whispered.
His breathing was getting much heavier.
"What is that?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Why does it feel like that?"
"Because you belong to me," he said simply. "Tell me how it feels."
"It feels... so hot," I whispered back, my cheeks burning.
"Good," he groaned. His voice was rough with pure lust. "Let it burn. Don't stop."
Suddenly, Caspian’s large hands gripped my waist. His long fingers pressed deeply into my hips, leaving warm handprints on my thin sleepwear. He pulled my body right up against his, leaving zero space between us.
“Look at me, Seraphina,” he ordered.
"I need to look at the needle," I argued weakly.
"No," he growled gently, rubbing his thumbs over my hip bones. "Look at my eyes. Let my body do the rest."
I dragged my eyes up to his face. He wasn't crying out in pain. Instead, Caspian was watching me with a dark eyes
“I can't do this…” I whimpered.
“Yes, you can.” He tightened his grip on my waist, keeping my hips locked in tightly against his hard body.
“Look right into my eyes and push the needle through.”
“Tell me if it hurts too much,” I begged softly. "I can stop."
“Don't you dare stop. Nothing hurts when you are pressed against me like this,” he whispered back. "Push it in, baby."
I swallowed hard and pushed the sharp needle through his torn skin. He didn't even flinch. His eyes just devoured my face.
"You are shaking," he groaned softly. His thumbs drew slow and soothing circles into my hip.
"It's so deep," I whimpered. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Your hands feel too damn good," he breathed. "Pull it tight."
The friction of his strong thighs pressing against my bare legs made my skin feel like it was on fire.
"You are doing so well," he murmured. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me even closer. "You feel so perfect right here. Tell me you feel it too."
"I feel it," I breathed out. My face was just inches from his. "You need to rest after this."
“I don't want to rest. I want to look at you,” he whispered. His eyes dropped down to my mouth. “I like having you this close. You smell like mine and You smell like you want me.”
"Caspian..." my voice broke completely.
"Finish it," he commanded softly.
I tied off the final stitch and cut the thread. I wiped away the remaining blood from his stomach.
“There,” I whispered. “I did it. It's closed.”
I looked down at his ribs. My breath completely leaving my lungs.
Right before my eyes, the black thread just melted into thin air. The jagged, bloody edges of his skin quickly pulled together and sealed up perfectly. The horrible wound vanished completely into thin air.
“What… how…” I stammered, stumbling backward in pure shock. “Am I losing my mind?! Where did it go?! Caspian, tell me what just happened?!”
"Seraphina, listen to me " he started, his voice suddenly sounding tight and panicked.
Before he could say another word, a sudden, blinding pain exploded inside my own body.
“Ah!” I screamed. My knees gave out instantly.
A burning, white hot pain ripped right through my own ribs. I collapsed right onto the floor.
“Seraphina! No!” Caspian yelled. He lunged forward and dropped to his knees. "Look at me! Keep your eyes open!"
“It burns! Why is it on me?!” I cried. I grabbed my side as warm liquid instantly soaked my clothes. "What did you do to me?!"
"I am so sorry!" he shouted, pulling me into his arms. His voice was full of pure panic. "I didn't know it would happen this fast! We are tied together now, baby. Our blood is tied!"
"Make it stop!" I cried out.
With shaking hands, I lifted my shirt up.
I stared down in pure horror.
The exact same jagged, bleeding wound I had just stitched on Caspian’s chest was now violently carved right into my own skin.
The pain wasn't his anymore. It was mine.
- Writer
