Rebirth Of A Phoenix By Shayla R.

Chapter 32; I'm sorry

"Ok, so to sum it up, Erryn and Fluntwhill are traitors, the bracelets are bad, Joseph isn't, and Fluntwhill only wants to kill me?" Pandora questioned.

Erryn. A traitor.

That must've been why she started acting so weird before the battle at Lugborn and why she seemed to go to Fluntwhill's office often. Instead of her forcing Fluntwhill to give her the society bracelet back, she would be feeding him information.

"Yeah, and if anyone but me knows that you know this, you'll be dead by dawn," Osiris said. The thought haunted him.

Yes, Erryn was a horrible person. But, the way Pandora sobbed as she watched her "friend" fall limp. The way she begged for her to come back. It ripped Osiris apart. She genuinely was not supposed to see or know that it was him that killed her.

"I'm still confused," Pandora said, her voice growing distant.

"About?" He asked.

"Why me, I understand I pull you in or whatever, but why me?" She asked. "There are millions of other people, thousands in Alemoria alone. I don't understand why of all people, you chose me to protect. I'll never understand why it's me your drawn to."

Osiris looked to her, scanning her now less confident self. She looked more vulnerable now. He hated it when she was sad. There was a fire in her blood. The flame kept her going.

He stood from where he sat and slowly walked over to stand in front of Pandora. Osiris leaned over, resting his hands on either side of her head, pressing into the couch.

"Because out of the millions of people, it's always been you. Thousands in one room, and you're like a red rose in a field of daisies. Somehow, the second I saw the way your long brown hair fell perfectly across your shoulders, the way your skin glowed in certain lighting, the way each freckle danced across your face, you were the only thing that mattered."

"But there are so many other people-"

"And I chose you," Osiris said, cutting her off. "In the field of daisies, I chose the rose."

He cupped her jaw, rubbing his thumb along it gently. "You are a rose, the most beautiful rose of roses. Your outer shell is prickly, but you give off the utmost beauty, louring everyone. I'm sorry about everything I've done, but you need to know. It was all to make sure you're safe unless Fluntwhill forced me to do it.

"Since when were you poetic?" Pandora said.

"Since I had someone to write poems about," Osiris smirked. "You are my rose now. Do you understand? If anyone touches you, I'll have their head on a platter."

Pandora nodded, "Someone's gone soft."

Osiris pushed himself off of the couch and stood looking down at her, "You've ruined the moment."

"Softy," Pandora smirked.

"You're seriously annoying," Osiris growled.

"Last time I checked, you just called me your rose," Pandora mocked.

"I also stated you have thorns," he said, crossing his arms.

"Aww, did I damage the great Osiris Welsch?" Pandora said, sticking out her bottom lip to make fun of him.

"You remember I'm a murderer, right?" Osiris said cockily. "One of the best too."

"Oh, you've made that quite clear, Welsch," Pandora said. "A murderer with a soft spot."

Whenever Pandora was beginning to be correct, Osiris would often change the conversation. She began to notice that. Unless he thought the argument was fun, which a lot of theirs were.