Deleted scene from Undeniable Lover featuring Gaetan
Hello, my friends! Just for you, here is the deleted chapter from Undeniable Lover featuring Gaetan. This scene occurs after Gaetan visits his sister, Ginnia, in the strong room and discovers that Saar, the Keep's Commander of Arms, released the Ursus prisoner, Kaelyn. Gaetan must see Noeh and tell him the news, but... Read on to find out what happened!
Gaetan’s steps were slow, painful, weighed down with the knowledge of Saar’s betrayal. Noeh…the throne room. Noeh…the throne room. He kept up his mantra, forcing his aching body to take one step at a time. Although he knew his way around the Keep, the walls and the sunstones embedded within blended together, confusing him. Perhaps it was the medicine slipping from his veins into his tissues, winding itself into his very core.
His cane tapped against the stone floor, the rhythmic click pushing him onward. One of the female Jixies, Til, came toward him, a basket of linen in her arms. A few stray hairs had escaped her bun, and they twirled around her ear, flopping in her self-imposed breeze. She smiled, and the simple gesture warmed him, bringing him back from the brink, giving him an anchor.
“Hello, Gaetan.” Her voice was soft, smooth.
“Greetings, Til.” He choked the words out, despite the pain radiating from his aching knee.
She passed without a second glance.
The ache in his knee flared anew. His mouth watered. A pill. His fingers twitched with his need for the blessed relief the tiny capsule would bring. He reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the satchel’s soft leather. A tingle of anticipation ran up his arm.
With shaky fingers he withdrew the bag and tugged at the drawstring. The leather gave way. He reached inside for the one thing that would give him some respite from his agony. His finger scraped against the inside of the empty pouch.
A tightness roiled in his gut. His malformed leg shook.
He pressed his shoulder against the wall, catching himself. With quick breaths, he inhaled sweet oxygen. A bead of sweat formed on his brow then dribbled down the side of his face. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he pushed himself from the wall and forced his leg to bear his weight.
Noeh…the throne room. Noeh…the throne room. The mantra returned, giving him something to focus on other than the agony burning in his leg.
He tightened his grip around the sunstone at the tip of his cane and pressed onward. Several long minutes passed, his mind enveloped in a wash of pain. He stopped. His heart pounded. The door, with its familiar sunstone pattern over the entryway was one he recognized, but this wasn’t the throne room. Instead, he’d wandered to the infirmary, the one place he spent more time than any other and that was sad.
His knee wobbled, and he grasped the door’s familiar handle to steady himself.
“While I’m here, I might as well refill my satchel.” His words echoed down the empty corridor. Who was he trying to convince? Himself?
He blocked the thought, instead concentrating on the door knob. His fingers trembled. A drop of sweat landed on the stone tile at his feet. The rock darkened from the wetness, and he focused on the splash marks his sweat had created, mesmerized by the beautiful pattern.
In the back of his mind, his beast roused. A muffled growl burned in the back of his throat. Blood pounded at his temple, and he held back the scream. He couldn’t let the beast loose, not again. Using the adrenaline surging through him, he pushed his way into the infirmary.
On unsteady legs, he hobbled to the back of the room where the beakers, herbs, and medicines resided in the tall cabinets. Hidden in the back shelf was his possible salvation. He leaned his cane against the counter, but the staff slid against the countertop’s smooth edge and clattered to the ground.
He didn’t care. There was only one thing on his mind.
Without hesitation, he gripped the cabinet door and yanked it open. The ancient wood’s movement sent a slight breeze across his face, cooling the sweat. He gripped the blue sunstone in his hand and willed the crystal to come to life, save him from himself, but it remained dark. His beast snarled, snapping behind Gaetan’s ever-thinning wall of resistance.
The stone slid from his fingers and danced across the countertop as if laughing, mocking him. Red coated his vision, borne as much from pain as his frustration. He raised his hand and shook his fist.
“Why?” His tormented scream echoed around the room.
There was no answer. Not that he’d really expected one. His goddess had never deemed to provide answers, not for him. He hung his head.
His limited energy spent from his outburst, he grabbed a nearby rag and wiped his brow. “Craya. I pray this war ends soon.”
He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His gaze flicked to the bottle on the counter. The pills wouldn’t heal his damaged leg, nothing would, but they eased the ache. He’d needed more and more to achieve the same effect, and he walked a thin line, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
With shaky hands, he picked up the one thing that brought him any peace and shook two pills into his palm. Round and white, they looked harmless, a mixture of healing herbs with a bit of something extra. Before he could think about it, he popped them into his mouth and dry swallowed.
His small stool wasn’t far away. The comforting wood, warn on one side to accommodate his disfigured leg, beckoned to him like a long lost friend. He should go, tell Noeh about Saar and the prisoner, but his eyes were as heavy as his limbs.
“Just for a moment.” His words slipped from his lips and he almost believed them. He walked the few steps toward the stool, sans the aid of his cane. Somehow, he managed to arrive at his destination without falling on his behind.
The old friend creaked under his weight, and he rolled it the short distance to the wall. Devoid of any hesitation, he leaned his shoulder blades against the cool stone and closed his eyes.
Stay tuned for sneak peeks from Unforgivable Lover in upcoming newsletters!
His cane tapped against the stone floor, the rhythmic click pushing him onward. One of the female Jixies, Til, came toward him, a basket of linen in her arms. A few stray hairs had escaped her bun, and they twirled around her ear, flopping in her self-imposed breeze. She smiled, and the simple gesture warmed him, bringing him back from the brink, giving him an anchor.
“Hello, Gaetan.” Her voice was soft, smooth.
“Greetings, Til.” He choked the words out, despite the pain radiating from his aching knee.
She passed without a second glance.
The ache in his knee flared anew. His mouth watered. A pill. His fingers twitched with his need for the blessed relief the tiny capsule would bring. He reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the satchel’s soft leather. A tingle of anticipation ran up his arm.
With shaky fingers he withdrew the bag and tugged at the drawstring. The leather gave way. He reached inside for the one thing that would give him some respite from his agony. His finger scraped against the inside of the empty pouch.
A tightness roiled in his gut. His malformed leg shook.
He pressed his shoulder against the wall, catching himself. With quick breaths, he inhaled sweet oxygen. A bead of sweat formed on his brow then dribbled down the side of his face. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he pushed himself from the wall and forced his leg to bear his weight.
Noeh…the throne room. Noeh…the throne room. The mantra returned, giving him something to focus on other than the agony burning in his leg.
He tightened his grip around the sunstone at the tip of his cane and pressed onward. Several long minutes passed, his mind enveloped in a wash of pain. He stopped. His heart pounded. The door, with its familiar sunstone pattern over the entryway was one he recognized, but this wasn’t the throne room. Instead, he’d wandered to the infirmary, the one place he spent more time than any other and that was sad.
His knee wobbled, and he grasped the door’s familiar handle to steady himself.
“While I’m here, I might as well refill my satchel.” His words echoed down the empty corridor. Who was he trying to convince? Himself?
He blocked the thought, instead concentrating on the door knob. His fingers trembled. A drop of sweat landed on the stone tile at his feet. The rock darkened from the wetness, and he focused on the splash marks his sweat had created, mesmerized by the beautiful pattern.
In the back of his mind, his beast roused. A muffled growl burned in the back of his throat. Blood pounded at his temple, and he held back the scream. He couldn’t let the beast loose, not again. Using the adrenaline surging through him, he pushed his way into the infirmary.
On unsteady legs, he hobbled to the back of the room where the beakers, herbs, and medicines resided in the tall cabinets. Hidden in the back shelf was his possible salvation. He leaned his cane against the counter, but the staff slid against the countertop’s smooth edge and clattered to the ground.
He didn’t care. There was only one thing on his mind.
Without hesitation, he gripped the cabinet door and yanked it open. The ancient wood’s movement sent a slight breeze across his face, cooling the sweat. He gripped the blue sunstone in his hand and willed the crystal to come to life, save him from himself, but it remained dark. His beast snarled, snapping behind Gaetan’s ever-thinning wall of resistance.
The stone slid from his fingers and danced across the countertop as if laughing, mocking him. Red coated his vision, borne as much from pain as his frustration. He raised his hand and shook his fist.
“Why?” His tormented scream echoed around the room.
There was no answer. Not that he’d really expected one. His goddess had never deemed to provide answers, not for him. He hung his head.
His limited energy spent from his outburst, he grabbed a nearby rag and wiped his brow. “Craya. I pray this war ends soon.”
He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His gaze flicked to the bottle on the counter. The pills wouldn’t heal his damaged leg, nothing would, but they eased the ache. He’d needed more and more to achieve the same effect, and he walked a thin line, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
With shaky hands, he picked up the one thing that brought him any peace and shook two pills into his palm. Round and white, they looked harmless, a mixture of healing herbs with a bit of something extra. Before he could think about it, he popped them into his mouth and dry swallowed.
His small stool wasn’t far away. The comforting wood, warn on one side to accommodate his disfigured leg, beckoned to him like a long lost friend. He should go, tell Noeh about Saar and the prisoner, but his eyes were as heavy as his limbs.
“Just for a moment.” His words slipped from his lips and he almost believed them. He walked the few steps toward the stool, sans the aid of his cane. Somehow, he managed to arrive at his destination without falling on his behind.
The old friend creaked under his weight, and he rolled it the short distance to the wall. Devoid of any hesitation, he leaned his shoulder blades against the cool stone and closed his eyes.
Stay tuned for sneak peeks from Unforgivable Lover in upcoming newsletters!