A Demon's Kiss ✔️

SEVEN

Word Count: 2019

~Aspen

Kastriv is methodical and efficient as he continues to sew up my wound.

"Fuck this," I grit out, stomach clenching. It's odd, knowing I should be feeling more pain currently. My arm is numb, either from adrenaline, or from whatever tonic Kastriv gave me, that is currently making my head spin.

Finally, after what feels like centuries passing, Kastriv pulls away.

I watch as he turns back to his table, rummaging through the supplies. "All done now. Let me clean it up and bandage it."

"I'm really feeling whatever you gave me," I mutter, my other hand resting against my forehead. I'm sweating profusely, and the dizziness is seconds away from making me collapse into unconsciousness.

And yet at the brink of all of it, I kind of feel good...

"You should hopefully recover from it's affects soon," Kastriv mutters distractively, cleaning away at the wound.

My eyes track over his face, suddenly compelled to say more to the Noble. "I hate Oliver."

He doesn't look up. "Me too."

"I wish I could kill him," I say, so out of my body at this point, I hardly care what I'm saying. If this comes back to Oliver, I'm done for, but Kastriv doesn't seem like the type to turn on me like that.

Something flickers in Kastriv's eyes, but it's hard to decipher. "I'm not objecting."

"Why me? Why did I have to be subject to his abuse?" I ask. I don't expect him to have an answer for me, and yet I feel the need to say it. I've wondered for so long what I've done to deserve this...

Kastriv pauses, looking up with furrowed brows.

"He abuses you?"

I flinch, realising I've said too much, put myself in too much danger. "No...I mean, this is the worst it's ever been."

Kastriv doesn't look convinced, although mercifully pulls his attention back to my wound. "He could have killed you. I doubt he would have gotten you help."

"We fell out of love. He just doesn't care about me, is all," I mumble, watching as he deftly winds the bandage around my arm, ensuring it's snug.

Finally he looks up at me. "Take the job I've offered."

"I can't." I wince.

He straightens, towering over me. "Yes, you can."

Diverting my attention down, I fidget with the edge of the bandaged, now secured. Were it so simple to take the job, qualified or not, I would. It is, however, not so simple.

"I'm scared," I admit sheepishly.

"It is frightening, but it's the right thing to do. You do not need to have contact with him any longer," he reminds me.

Never have contact with Oliver ever again? I couldn't imagine a more blissful concept.

"You underestimate Oliver. He wouldn't stop until he killed me. He hate's Demon's remember?" I exclaim.

Kastriv appears thoughtful as he looks over me, as if he can see what makes me a Demon. Outwardly I appear so normal, and yet my kind have been, for lack of a better term, demonised since the beginning of time.

The Noble standing before me is the first person I've met to outwardly speak in favour of Demon's retaining their autonomy and place in society.

"I'll protect you. And soon enough, if you do this job for me, you can protect yourself," he says.