FALLEN | rowan whitethorn x oc

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX - off with his head!

"Yes..." She let the words hang in the air on their own as she awaited for him to make sense of his presence.

The male rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, his gaze going from the grass at his feet and back to her face, which remained etched with guardedness. After an awkward stretch of silence that she refused to break, he spoke. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"Entirely so,"

"Oh,"

Isabella could not quite understand the meaning of his presence, and the purpose behind his questions. All she could remember of her only experience with him was that of him stopping the fae male from insulting her -nevermind that she ended up killing him later on-.

So she couldn't help but wonder why he was here. Was it because he planned on attacking her, too? Or did he prefer to lure his subjects with feigned kindness and breath-taking smiles forged in deceptiveness?

His image reminded her of the thirst for blood she had felt not too long ago, and how it had ended with a corpse being buried and a notable discovery that had changed the course of her life.

"Why?" The words had left her mouth before she could process what she had done. She bit the inside of her cheek to chastise herself.

Vinhen frowned, confusion clear in the curve of his brows. "Why, what?"

"Why the offer of help?" Both the question and her voice sounded pathetic to her ears, it was reminiscent of a time in her life when even if normalcy had been the norm, she had still been on alert in the presence of unsolicited kindness.

History could not be erased with the wave of a hand, and memories could not be forgotten by the face of new.

The male chuckled softly, as if he was taken aback by her words. As if he could not comprehend the situation, either. "I just thought you may need a hand," He sounded dubious.

"Why?" She repeated, her free hand fisted as the other held on tightly to the book.

"Well, firstly, because you are alone. In the middle of the woods. At night. With no one around,"

She opened her mouth to object, indignation feeding the heat accumulating in her reddish cheeks.

He gave her no opportunity to interject as he quickly continued, "Secondly, you were just standing there, looking down at nothing, with no light to illuminate your path"

Isabella shut her mouth. He was right. In her hurry to get to the woods and start with her search, she had forgotten to grab the jar with fire tears in her tent. She had realised her predicament as soon as she had opened the book, but she had been too stubborn to go back and retrieve her missing tool.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and instead looked at Vinhen up and down. "I don't see you carrying any light with you" If she sounded too defensive, she did not allow herself to admit it.

Vinhen's frown disappeared, and in its absence, a smile transformed his face. The curve of his lips that tugged them upward was playful, one full of mischief. Naughty, even. But lacking any kind of malignity. She raised an eyebrow at his expression, and it only further motivated him, for his smile widened. He snapped his thumb and middle finger together, the sound echoed around them, and in its trail appeared a flame. It appeared to be floating in his fingers, but upon further inspection she realised that the fire was actually coming from within him.

Isabella froze in her place, as if a fresh bucket of water had been thrown over at her. She opened her mouth, "H-how?"

He seemed pleased by her reaction as he shrugged. "It is my magic. I can control fire, and call upon it if I wish for it"