[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 163: A Game of Prey and Predator

"...I will hunt you down and kill you with my own hands."

Xion swallowed.

I have two options: fight or flight. Unfortunately, ’neither’ is also an option because I’m trapped.

He slowly lifted his head, peeking up at Darius like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

The archduke’s silver hair fell over his forehead, casting a shadow over his sharp green eyes, and right now they were glowing eerily in the dim hallway.

His arms were still locked around Xion in an iron grip, and there wasn’t a trace of emotion on his stoic face.

Even the usual tiny smirk, which often appeared when Darius was with Xion, was nowhere to be seen.

His grace was staring at him, completely unbothered by the fact that he had just threatened murder.

Xion took a shaky breath. "So... uh... kill me with your own hands, huh?"

He chuckled, though it sounded more like a wheeze. "That’s... not a good thing?"

Darius didn’t react. Not even a twitch of his lips was in sight.

Okay. Tough crowd.

Xion exhaled through his nose, wracking his brain for a way to dig himself out of this grave (preferably before the archduke decided to put him in an actual one).

"W-Well, you know... If I die, who’s going to save you from your weird disease?"

He attempted to wiggle his fingers at his side before finally placing his hand on Darius’ waist to push him away. But the grip on him was still suffocating.

"And if I’m gone, you’ll have to find another doctor, and let’s be real ... who else in this world has my level of medical genius?"

They say that when people are in trouble, they end up doing the things they’re most embarrassed about.

The shameful bragging of himself was already making Xion’s ears burn,

But... But! There was still no reaction.

Not even a blink!

All the water in his body was turning into sweat gathering at the back of his neck. His already dry throat was now as barren as desert.

He gulped. "You wouldn’t want that, right? You’d have to deal with another doctor. And p-probably some old man with bad breath who touches your wrist and mumbles something about energy flow."

Darius’ arms tightened.

Xion yelped. "Okay, okay! Not funny, I get it! No old-man doctors! Can you let me go?"

Instead of letting Xion go, his grace pressed his nose deep into the crook of Xion’s neck again Darius inhaled deeply.

Xion stiffened.

Wait, wait.

What was this now? Some kind of villainous archduke death ritual? Was he about to get his soul sucked out? Or maybe, like Klein Nocturne, Darius was going to suck his blood instead of his soul? freёwebnoѵel.com

He suddenly hoped that this was not going to be one of those kinds of moments which would haunt his brain at 3 AM.

"Uh, Your Grace?" Xion croaked, trying and failing to lean back yet once again.

Darius remained perfectly still.

His breath was slow and steady as it fanned against Xion’s skin, making it slightly pink from the heat flooding in the healer’s veins.

His Grace is inhaling me! And that wasn’t the only reason Xion felt timid.

This terrifying, cold-blooded archduke, who just minutes ago looked ready to burn down the entire continent, was actually ... shaking.

It was subtle. So subtle that anyone else would have missed it. But Xion being so close to Darius felt it.

Now that his own nerves had settled down, albeit only a bit, he became aware of the faint tremor running through the archduke’s arms.

The grip that had once been suffocating wasn’t just tight. It was almost desperate.

And for some reason, that made Xion feel like the worst person in the world.

A pang of guilt stabbed his chest.

Because he was Xion, and Xion’s brain was wired in a way that prioritized survival through any other means. Sometimes it was by joking.

So, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

"You know, I was gone for one hour, and you’re acting like I ran off to elope with some wild man."

Xion chuckled lightly, tilting his head. "I mean, it’s not like we’re really lovers or something... That’s just absurd."

And now he was talking to himself.

Why did he even say that in the first place? What "elope with some wild man"? What the hell, brain?! I don’t even have a lover!

He didn’t even have a proper, real partner! Who was he going to cheat on and with whom?

The sheer nonsense of his own words almost made him want to slap himself.

But his words, however ridiculous, worked in a completely different way.

Darius finally leaned back. Nonetheless, his expression was still like before. Nothing on the surface, but Xion could sense something was shifting so he continued.

"If this is how you’re reacting now, what’s gonna happen when I actually move far away? Are you gonna wage war or something?"

The grip on Xion’s waist tensed ever so slightly as if his grace was debating whether to squeeze tighter or let go. The temperature in the air dropped by at least five degrees.

Xion, knowing that he may or may not have just dug his own grave, let out an awkward cough.

"Uh... okay, I can tell you didn’t like that joke."

Those pale green eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Xion blinked his eyes to confirm if the fraction of change in Darius’ iris was his own imagination or reality.

Then, the archduke who had been silent for so long, let out a low, deep chuckle.

"Try it," His Grace finally set Xion’s poor waist free, only for a large hand to settle atop his raven-black hair.

His hand rubbed the soft hair gently, and though his words carried a smile, their meaning was anything but.

"Go on and try to hide, Xion. And see what happens."

Xion wasn’t sure which part of the conversation had failed spectacularly, but judging by the way Darius’ fingers were soothingly brushing through his hair while he uttered literal threats, he had definitely messed up somewhere.

But the archduke was not done just yet.

His fingers slowly trailed lower to Xion’s soft ears then a bit lower, until his fingers were holding that neck in his grip.

It was so fragile, so breakable, and yet the thump beneath the skin was loud, clear and stupidly bright, just like its owner.

He closed his fingers, grasping the neck in a tight hold, not enough to hurt but definitely tight enough for Xion to feel his strength.

Then, he yanked his healer toward him. There were mere inches between their noses. Just one push and they would crash into each other.

"After all," Darius continued, his cold breath falling on Xion’s face, heating it up a notch, "hunting is much more thrilling when the prey thinks it has a head start."

Xion, with wide blue eyes, "..." Oh lord, save me!

Xion’s heart ran like a train engine. Those words were as cruel as His Grace’s infamous name. The one which Xion never took too seriously until now.

The devil.

The archduke was really a devil when it came to the things he wished to do, and there was no one who could hold him back.

"O-okay. Got it." Xion attempted to smile, trying to ease the weird atmosphere, and falling at it miserably because his smile was uglier than crying. "Can you l-let me go now?"

Darius pinned Xion with his gaze before finally leaving the poor healer’s neck.

As they sat on the same bed in utter silence, Xion expected his grace to ask him various questions.

At the very least, he expected the archduke to ask where he had been all this time, or something else entirely.

Regardless of his earlier temper, the archduke was now strangely calm.

Ah ... not just calm.

Xion was observing the silver-haired handsome guy, looking at the way his eyebrows were furrowed, the way his slightly pale lips were pursed.

And now he was sure that his grace looked a bit confused. Why though?

Should it not be Xion himself to be baffled over Darius’ sudden weird behaviour?

Xion had chalked it up to the way his grace had grown up. Whatever the reason, Xion was in no mood to guess a riddle.

His excitement over finally finding the cure for Moonshade Affliction had dimmed ever so slightly. Nonetheless, it still lingered, making him eager to tell his patient as soon as possible.

However, then, Xion thought it all over and stayed silent.

While letting the archduke brood over whatever mystery he was thinking, Xion stood up from the bed.

The moment he stood up, heavy sight fell on him. Xion directly ignored it and went to the table where an exquisite kettle inlaid with gold and sapphires was placed.

He tilted it, letting the water fill the glass before gulping it down his throat.

An audible sigh escaped his wet lips as he set the glass down. Finally, he wasn’t dying of thirst.

As for the cure...

Xion tapped his fingers lightly against the glass, mulling it over. He had a theory, but it needed more testing.

He wasn’t about to waltz up to his very temperamental patient and announce something that might turn out to be wrong.

No, he needed to be sure. Absolutely sure.

This was a matter of life and death, after all.

But fate, that fickle, twisted thing, had a way of throwing all carefully laid plans into disarray.