Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 148: I’ll protect you Anaya.

Chapter 148: I’ll protect you Anaya.

They came flying through the air...swift, deadly, and aimed directly at them.

Anaya’s face was filled with panic. Though she couldn’t see what was happening around her, she sensed it. The air had changed, no longer calm, but now crackling with tension. It screamed of danger.

"I’ll protect you, Anaya," Rhys said firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos as he carried her in his hands.

Without hesitation, he began running, dragging Kisha along with him while the guards who had been escorting them drew their weapons and began clashing with the queen’s soldiers. Steel rang out against steel, and the once peaceful road was now a battlefield.

Rhys spotted the horse...one that had been drawing Anaya’s carriage just moments before and rushed toward it. Without wasting a heartbeat, he lifted Anaya into the saddle, ensuring she was secure before jumping up behind her.

"I’ll join you shortly, Master Rhys. Just keep my lady safe!" Kisha called after him, her voice strong despite the danger.

Rhys gave a sharp nod, his expression unreadable, before snapping the reins. The horse galloped away, leaving Kisha and the guards behind to face the enemy.

The sounds of clashing swords, shouting men, and the sharp whistle of more arrows filled the air. The deadly projectiles kept raining down. Rhys maneuvered the horse expertly, leaning and swaying to avoid the worst of the attacks. But then...

Thwack!

An arrow pierced his right shoulder. A sharp cry of pain escaped his lips.

"Agh!"

Still, he gritted his teeth, refusing to stop. Blood trickled down his arm, soaking through his sleeve, but he held on because Anaya was with him. He had to get her to safety.

Anaya clung to his cloak tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn’t see, but she felt it...the tremble in his body, the sudden wetness of blood, and the anguished sound he had made. Something was terribly wrong.

"Rhys... you’re hurt," she thought to herself.

"I’m fine, Anaya," he replied, though his voice was ragged now, breath heavy and uneven. "Just keep holding on to me. I’ll get you to safety"

Rhys’s breathing was growing more labored by the second, and his grip on the reins was weakening. His consciousness wavered dangerously. threatening to slip into the darkness but he forced himself to stay awake. He had to. He couldn’t afford to pass out now.

He knew the queen. She might spare him, obsessed as she was with his member but Anaya? She would kill her without hesitation.

And then, as if matters weren’t already dire, the arrow wound on Rhys’s shoulder began to turn black.

It was poisoned.

By now, the horse had taken them far from the battleground, but Rhys’s strength had reached its limit. His body finally gave out. With a groan of pain, he toppled from the horse, pulling Anaya with him. The startled horse neighed and galloped off, disappearing into the forest.

"Rhys!" Anaya screamed internally, crawling blindly across the ground. Her hands flailed until they landed on his body.

He was motionless.

"No, no, no..." she thought, with tears which poured down her cheeks. Her hands ran over his frame, desperately searching for the source of the blood she could smell. Her heart thundered in her chest.

She remembered the herb.

Frantically, she reached into the inner pocket of her gown and pulled out a small pouch. Kisha had given it to her just in case, she had said. The herb was a rare one, known to slow bleeding and counteract certain poisons. Anaya bit into it, chewing it quickly until it was crushed into a bitter pulp.

Then, using her hands, she searched Rhys’s upper body until she found the wound. Sticky and hot with blood.

Without wasting a moment, she pressed the chewed herb against it, applying firm pressure.

"Please stay with me, Rhys... please," she said to herself internally over and over again. She cradled him against her chest, feeling how hot his body had become.

"Why are you burning up like this?" she thought, her expression filled with panic.

Then, her ears caught something....faint, but unmistakable.

The sound of rushing water.

They were close to a stream.

Her mind raced. She couldn’t leave him for long, but if she could just cool him down...

"I’ll be back," she thought to herself, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Carefully, she laid Rhys down on the grass, arranging him in a resting position as best she could. Then she rose to her feet and followed the sound of the water. Her bare feet stumbled over roots and stones, but she didn’t stop until she reached the stream.

Without hesitation, she stripped off her outer garments, remaining only in her underclothes. She dipped the fabric into the cold, clear water, soaking it through. The chill of it bit at her fingers, but she didn’t care.

When she returned, Rhys was still lying where she left him, breathing shallowly.

She knelt beside him and began pressing the wet cloth gently to his forehead, his neck, and his chest, trying to bring down his fevered heat.

"Just hang on a little longer, Rhys," she aid internally. "I won’t let you die. Not here. Not like this."

Her hands never stopped moving, wetting the cloth again and again, cooling his body, holding him close.

"Please open your eyes, okay?" Anaya thought to herself as she held Rhys even closer. Despite the cold seeping into her skin from the thin undergarments she wore, especially being so close to the stream, she was willing to endure it as long as Rhys opened his eyes.

*****

The next day arrived swiftly, with the golden sun casting warm rays over the small clearing. Its light filtered through the trees, bathing both Anaya and Rhys in its glow.

Rhys stirred slowly, his eyelids fluttering open with effort. The first thing his eyes focused on was Anaya, lying beside him with her hand gently resting on his chest. Her breathing was calm, her face peaceful, but there was a faint flush on her cheeks...likely from the cold.

"Does she want to fall sick wearing something this thin?" Rhys murmured softly to himself, his voice hoarse from the night before. Only then did his eyes lower to see the cloth covering his body...Anaya’s own outfit. It had dried overnight.

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

Guilt pierced his chest more sharply than the poisoned arrow had.

"She treated my wound..." Rhys realized, bringing his fingers carefully to his shoulder. The moment his fingertips brushed the bandaged area, a sting of pain shot through him, and he winced. "I must have troubled her a lot last night..."

Before he could think any further, Anaya stirred. Her body shifted, and her brows drew together as she sat up in a panic. Her hands reached forward, searching the ground with urgency, trying to locate him.

"I’m here," Rhys quickly wrote the words across her back with gentle, reassuring strokes.

The moment she registered the familiar movement, she threw herself into his arms, her whole body trembling with relief.

"It’s fine now. Thank you... for saving my life." Rhys continued writing on her back slowly and clearly, letting the words speak where his voice couldn’t.

Anaya nodded against his chest, her arms wrapping tightly around him.

"You’re welcome, Rhys," she responded by writing on his back. "I’m just happy that you’re alive. But... are you sure you’re really okay? We should still find a physician. My herb may have helped, but we can’t rely on it completely."

Rhys gave a small chuckle before replying with slow, steady strokes on her back:

"I’ll be alright. But first... let me catch some fish in the stream. You must be hungry....I am too."

Anaya smiled, nodding her head in agreement as she finally released him from the embrace.

Without wasting another moment, Rhys pushed himself to his feet. Though his body was still weak, determination filled his steps as he made his way toward the nearby stream. He crouched near the edge, his eyes scanning the water for signs of movement. His first few attempts were clumsy due to his injured arm, but soon he managed to catch a few fish using a sharp stick he fashioned nearby.

Returning triumphantly, he set the fish down and began gathering firewood. With practiced hands, he started a small fire using the flint from his belt. The flames caught quickly, and he began roasting the fish, the scent of fresh meat soon wafting through the air.

When the fish were done, he handed one over to Anaya. She accepted it with both hands, taking a bite almost immediately.

"He still cooks the same," Anaya thought to herself, savoring the taste. The warmth of the food spread through her chest. "His cooking is still top-notch, just like before."

Rhys took a seat beside her and after a moment of comfortable silence, he reached for her back once more and wrote...

"We should hurry and leave. The guards who stayed behind might have injured or even defeated some of the queen’s men, but I have no doubt she’s sent more by now."

Anaya nodded again, her expression serious now. She swallowed the last bite of her fish and rose to her feet.

"Then let’s go," she wrote back firmly. "Before it’s too late."

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