Chapter 49 "Must you worry me at every turn?"

Chapter 49 "Must you worry me at every turn?"
Dismounting Starlyght after the flight was far more difficult than when Aizurah had mounted her. The subtle shifting and curving during their flight had worked her muscles, and she hadn’t realized how much pain she was in until they landed. Aizurah doubled over the minute her feet hit the ground, fighting the scream that threatened to tear itself from the base of her throat. 

“Princess.” Arden lifted her off her feet before she could protest and carried her back to her tent, all while ordering people out of the way and requesting a healer be sent to see her. He was halfway through removing her armor when Zeidan strode into the tent, red-faced and boiling. 

“Go, Arden,” Zeidan ground out furiously, not bothering a single glance at the knight. Arden nodded and backed out of the tent without saying a word.

Aizurah had never seen her husband so angry. His silver eyes burned, pupils blown wide with rage. He began unclipping and yanking the pieces of armor off her in silence, each move forceful enough to make her body sway. When he was finished, he came to stand in front of her, wearing a look of sheer fury. 

“Say someth—" His mouth crashed down on hers, tormenting and bruising. Their teeth clashed, and she felt her lip split, but she responded in kind, her mouth battling against his eagerly. 

“Why must you be so fucking hardheaded? Why must you go against my every command?” Zeidan hissed against her. He gripped her hair in his fist and forced her head back, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, her body coming alive, regardless of his anger. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, scratching her nails across his scalp, the apology only halfhearted.  “I only wanted to help.” The pair broke apart, breathing heavily as the tent flap was pulled open and one of the physicians strode in uninvited. Aizurah sighed in disappointment as Zeidan released her.

“Princess, Sir Stonewell said I must see to your injury.” Aizurah nodded in agreement and leaned back on the cot. Zeidan knelt down, untied her laces, and ripped her boots off, allowing her to lift her feet up. The motion contracted her core, and she let out a groan of pain she couldn’t suppress.

“You shouldn’t have gone. You’re clearly in pain,” Zeidan scolded.

“Of course, I’m in pain, Zeidan!” she ground out. “It’s not going to stop me from helping or ensuring you safely return to me!” The heated look in his eyes, the satisfied smirk, made her want to lunge at him. Instead, she allowed the healer to lay her back and pull her clothing away from the wound, which had begun to bleed. A worried look came over Zeidan’s face as he watched from two paces away. “I’m alright,” she reassured him.

“You are, princess,” the healer agreed, dabbing at the stitches with some kind of herbal ointment. It smelled of mint and something harsh, stinging the wound. “I would recommend you remain in bed for a few days and let this properly heal. If you must leave bed, it should only be to walk briefly about camp. No flying,” she commanded pointedly, to which Aizurah sighed. Zeidan may have gotten his way in the end, but she had still managed to help on the battlefield, which gave her some pride.

“I’m not happy, princess,” Zeidan finally said when the healer had gone, turning to face her.

“When are you ever happy with one of my decisions, Zeidan?” she replied smartly, annoyed. “I came here to help end the war, and end it quickly; that’s what I intend to do.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she sat up.

“You’re doing nothing else for the remainder of our stay on this island,” he growled at her.

“Yes, I heard the healer!” she snapped. “At any rate, there’s little left for us to do, isn’t there?” The day had been a dramatic win for the kingdom, and the pirates had been all but decimated in the battle.          

“I love you, stupid brat…” he told her, cupping her face in his hands. The words weren’t stated with any real venom, only soft adoration. “Must you worry me at every turn?” Her heart stammered in her chest, and she closed her eyes, allowing his touch to cool her ire and ignite her insides in an entirely different way.

“I love you, husband,” she finally replied, caressing his cheek. She didn’t want to fight him; she wanted to fuck him, and to return to the safety of The Fire Hills, where no one would bother them ever again.

And yet… Aizurah knew, deep down, that somehow Sebastian was behind her attack. She knew it in her bones. She longed to find her place at her father’s side, but she knew it was no longer safe for her, or Zeidan. She would settle for fucking him, for the time being, and worry about returning home in a few days…