I Helped The Imprisoned Male Lead And He Became Obsessed - Chapter 88

The emotion in Emilian’s voice couldn’t be reduced to simple words like worry or concern. It was something deeper, more overwhelming.

Perhaps that’s why, despite the overpowering stench of blood, his embrace felt warmer than anything else in the world.

A miracle. A magic beyond comprehension.

He had come for me, and I was grateful beyond words.

But at the same time, I felt a pang of guilt for making him worry so deeply.

“…I’m sorry, Emil,” I whispered softly.

At my words, Emilian loosened his hold slightly. I lifted my head slowly to look at him. His eyes were burning, his gaze heavy with unspoken feelings.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” he said, his voice tight, as though restraining a storm of emotions. “Did you hate relying on me that much? Is that why you went off alone, risking everything to find the boy?”

His unexpected question left me blinking in surprise. Slowly, I shook my head.

“No, Emil… it’s not that,” I said.

Raising a hand, I gently touched the corners of his eyes.

“I didn’t call for you because I was afraid it would be too late. That I wouldn’t be able to save Finn in time…”

I meant to clarify, to erase the misunderstanding, but my explanation only deepened the sorrow in his eyes. His lips pressed tightly together, trembling slightly.

“…You always do this,” he said bitterly, his voice low. “You think of others before yourself. Always.”

Carefully, he lifted my right arm, his gaze fixed on the claw marks left by the wolf.

Like handling a delicate glass ornament, his fingers gently traced the edges of the wound, his brow furrowing deeply.

“We need to stop the bleeding first,” he said firmly.

“Ah… okay.”

The pain, dulled by fear and adrenaline earlier, now came rushing back with sharp clarity.

Emilian removed his blood-stained outer coat and tore the hem of his clean shirt into strips.

Years of experience on the battlefield showed in his practiced, efficient movements as he wrapped the makeshift bandage tightly around my arm.

But the tightness sent a sharp jolt of pain shooting through me, and I couldn’t suppress a small groan.

“…Ugh.”

Emilian flinched as though he felt the pain himself, his face twisting in discomfort. Once he finished the first-aid treatment, he spoke firmly.

“The wound is deep. You know as well as I do that we need to treat it properly once we’re back.”

“Yes. I have antibiotics and supplies at the apothecary. I’ll take care of it there,” I said, forcing a faint smile. I didn’t want him to worry more than he already was.

Emilian hesitated, his lips parting slightly as though he wanted to say something, but then he closed them again.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace once more. With his other arm, he carefully lifted Finn, who was still unconscious.

Without another word, he pushed off the ground, carrying us both.

The cold night wind brushed against my face as we moved swiftly through the forest.

I glanced down, catching sight of the gray building below. Its unadorned, harsh lines stood out against the wilderness, cold and foreboding. My gaze lingered on it, unable to look away.

“You’re wondering about that building, aren’t you?” Emilian said, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

From above me, Emilian’s low voice broke the silence.

“I thought of that facility too, when I saw that place.”

I looked up at him with widened eyes. Emilian’s expression was somber, his gaze heavy with unspoken memories.

“But right now, your treatment comes first,” he said firmly. “Don’t think about anything else for now.”

I wanted to argue, to say that investigating that building was urgent, but the blood loss had sapped my strength. Even lifting my head felt like a challenge.

And then there was Finn. He needed to be placed in a warm bed as soon as possible. The poor boy had been through enough for one night.

Sensing my silence, Emilian quickened his pace. The dark forest blurred past beneath us, and soon, the gray building vanished from sight.

Yet, as its physical form disappeared, the images it left imprinted on my mind grew sharper and more vivid.

The rows of barred cells lining the long corridor. Each room was empty save for a single small bed, its frame tethered to long, heavy chains. The numbered plaques on each door, cold and methodical.

Seventeen years ago, the nightmare I had barely escaped… Was it being recreated here?

***

Most of the village homes were dark, their inhabitants long asleep, but a faint light glimmered through the window of the apothecary.

The children, refusing to rest, had stayed awake, waiting anxiously for Finn and me to return.

As soon as they spotted us, their drowsy eyes snapped open, and they jumped to their feet.

“Anise…”

“Anise, you’re back! Hwaaah…!”

Overwhelmed with relief, they ran to me, their small arms wrapping tightly around me. Their voices trembled, and tears began to flow freely. Even Rio, usually composed, had reddened eyes.

“It’s such a relief… I thought something terrible had happened to both of you…” Rio said, his voice choked with emotion.

On the way back, Emilian had told me how Rio had ventured out to search for us, only to be intercepted by him and sent back home.

He must’ve come to the apothecary to check on me, only to learn about everything from the kids.

Rio wiped his eyes with his sleeve, trying to hide his tears, before asking, “Is Finn okay?”

“Fortunately, he’s unhurt. He’s just exhausted and fell asleep,” I replied.

Hearing that, Rio let out a long sigh of relief. But as his gaze dropped to my bloodied arm, his expression darkened again.

The other children, noticing my injury, crowded around me with worried looks.

“Anise, are you really hurt bad?”

It was Vanessa, the youngest, who spoke. I couldn’t tell her the truth—that I had been attacked by wolves and barely survived. Stroking her head gently, I said with a reassuring smile, “I just tripped and got a little hurt, that’s all.”

The children weren’t entirely convinced, insisting that I should treat my wound immediately. Rio stepped in to calm them down.

“Anise is a pharmacist, remember? She knows how to take care of her injuries better than we do. It’s late, so we should head to bed now.”

“But still…”

Though reluctant, the children slowly began to climb the stairs under Rio’s watchful guidance. I caught his eye and gave him a grateful nod as he ushered them off to bed.

Once the commotion settled, Emilian stepped closer. Without a word, he guided me toward the examination room, his demeanor leaving no room for argument.

Inside, the medical cart was already stocked with everything needed—antibiotics, clean bandages, scissors, and a scalpel soaking in a tray of antiseptic.

I looked at him, surprised. “Emil, when did you become so knowledgeable about medicine?”

He gave me a faint smirk, though his eyes remained serious.

“Seven years on the battlefield will do that to you,” he said, grabbing the antiseptic and gauze with practiced ease. “You learn fast when you’re fighting to save lives—or your own.”

I instinctively reached for the medical cart, thinking I could at least change the bandages myself.

But Emilian frowned, his tone sharp. “What exactly do you plan to do with that arm?”

“I mean, it’s not that bad…” I started to argue, intending to say I could manage with my left hand, but his voice left no room for debate.

“Enough. Patients should stay put.”

Before I could protest further, Emilian used scissors to cut away my bloodied shirt. He then disinfected the wound, applied ointment, and wrapped it in fresh bandages.

He really does look like a doctor right now.

Watching him work so efficiently, I stayed quiet and let him take care of me. It was strange, almost surreal—after all, I was usually the one treating him.

When he handed me a painkiller and I took it, the searing pain in my arm began to subside.

However, the claw marks left by the wolf were deep. The wound would require stitches, something I couldn’t do with just one hand. Emilian suggested bringing a physician from the neighboring village.

But as he turned to leave the room, I reached out and grabbed the hem of his coat.

“Don’t go, Emil.”

“If we don’t stitch the wound, it will scar,” he said, his voice calm but insistent.

I shook my head gently, holding onto his coat. The emergency treatment he’d already provided would suffice until morning. There was no need to rush.

But the truth was, I simply didn’t want to be alone.

The memory of the wolves attacking was still too fresh, the fear lingering like a shadow I couldn’t shake. Even though Emilian had defeated them, the terror hadn’t completely faded.

“Stay. Please, just stay here with me,” I said softly.

Emilian’s crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise before he lowered them, his lashes trembling faintly. Shadows deepened across his face as he spoke in a low, steady voice.

“You’re making this difficult, Anise. You’ll make me misunderstand.”

“…What?”

“You pity me, nothing more,” he said, his tone devoid of bitterness, as though he were merely stating a fact.

When I thought I might never see him again, I was ready to tell him everything. But now, with him here, my courage faltered.

The words that might have dispelled his misunderstanding hovered on the tip of my tongue, threatening to spill out.

Emilian sat beside me on the edge of the bed. His hand brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen across my forehead, his touch gentle.

“For now, just rest. I won’t go anywhere,” he said softly.

He moved to the armchair near the bed, leaning back as if settling in to keep watch over me until I fell asleep. When I didn’t respond for a long moment, he closed his eyes, his expression calm and steady.

And then, in the quiet, I spoke.

“…What if it’s not a misunderstanding?”

I saw the faintest flicker of movement beneath his closed eyelids. Slowly, he opened his eyes, meeting mine with a gaze that rippled like a calm lake suddenly disturbed.

“What if it’s not a misunderstanding?” I repeated, my voice steady now. “What would you do then?”