Feathers in a Storm Ch 13
Mobei Jun saw red as he surged into the room, he fisted his hand into the back of his uncle’s doublet and ripped the man away from Qinghua. He didn’t even bother to see where the man landed, instead diving to catch the birdman before he hit the floor.
“Qinghua!” He cushioned the fragile weight, cradling him as the both dropped. “Please, I’m right here. Look at me, Qinghua please.” Mobei Jun’s chest felt too small for his breath, eyes stinging as he pleaded.
He’d just found Shang again, but the fragile hope that he had for breaking the man’s curse crumbled, slipping through his fingers.
He gripped the knife sticking out of Qinghua’s chest and pulled it from the birdman’s flesh. He ended up taking a small handful of feathers with it.
Qinghua let out a pitiful cry, one that made his heart twist, but it needed to be done. He had to take it out before it killed the man he loved. The same man who went limp in his arms as teh blade clattered to the floor.
His panic rose, deep red blood surged from the wound. He couldn’t tell how deep it went or how close it made it to Qinghua’s heart. Something further obfuscated by Qinghua’s half bird state. Was his heart still in the same place? It didn’t matter, the rush of sticky red through his fingers was far from encouraging.
Anger surged through him, he wanted to yell for a physician, he wanted to scream at whatever god might listen, anyone, anything that could help. Deciding that he alone would not be enough he scooped Qinghua from the floor standing, trying to think of where he could go or what he could do.
He turned toward the door only to finally remember that he’d not come alone. Binghe had managed to wrestle his uncle to the ground while the Cang Qiong ambassador was striding toward him with purpose.
“Put him in the bed.” The man gestured with his fan, his tone firm and guiding. Mobie Jun followed the instruction on autopilot, doing his best not to jostle Qinghua’s still bleeding wound. He laid the birdman out in the bed, the very same one he’d shared with the King barely a day before.
He was so much smaller, dark feathers blending into Mobei Jun’s dark sheets. So different from the pale man he’d been wrapped in them not long ago. Mobei Jun desperately hoped he would be able to see that man again, but first Qinghua would have to survive.
