Sweet Innocence and Gentle Sin || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Chapter 32: Bloody Mess

He didn't seem fazed, but I quickly realized the wound wasn't healing and the blood around the gash was bubbling like acid. It made me falter—what kind of blade was this?

I didn't... like it, not anymore. He wasn't healing.

I hit and fought so hard because I knew he could heal—but this time he didn't. Why did that make me feel so sick?

I wanted him dead... but I didn't at the same time. Did that make me a fool? Did that even make sense? I thought I'd be happy if he dropped dead, but was that the truth?

I faltered, and that was all the shadows needed to pounce on me. I felt silken darkness dance across my body in fluttery waves that cooled off my skin and made me shiver. They were so calculated, so rigid—so different from what I remembered.

Before I could make a move against it, I blacked out. The last thing I remembered was the side of my head hitting the dirt beneath me.

~)(~

I woke with a startle and immediately grabbed the candleholder on the makeshift table to throw at the intruder. It was just Cassian, though I still considered throwing it at him.

My head pounded, making me hiss when I sat up and looked at him. "What? I don't need you chastising me."

He couldn't walk into the tent if he wanted to, not with those wings. So he stood awkwardly and frowned at me. "I was going to... then Jurian fessed everything."

I nodded. Someone had to do it, and I was too afraid to relive it.

"I'm still in trouble though, aren't I?"

"What? No, it was just... very passionate training." I raised a brow and Cassian laughed. "I... I'm not good at this kind of thing—"

"So don't get involved."

"Yeah, but I don't want you killing my brother," Cassian bit.

I dropped my head, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt. Why? I wanted that bastard dead, and yet I was upset about it.

I risked asking, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, scarred for life—thanks for that."

"He's not healing?"

Cassian shook his head. "That dagger, it's named Truth-Teller. It's magical and... confusing. It's sentient or something, cause he says it's picky about who wields it." He took a deep breath and leaned cautiously on the post my tent hung against. "Illyrians can't heal magic wounds—not perfectly. That's why we train with basic weapons."

I rubbed my forehead and said, "Where's Jurian?"

That made Cassian smile and laugh. "He's pacing like a frightened mother goose. I'll get him for you."

I thanked him and watched him leave, letting the tent flap close again. It was darkness inside, save for the candlelight. I tried to avoid complete darkness when I could. Something about it made me panic.

Perhaps it was because of the endless nightmares of those caves dripping with blood. Or the claustrophobic rooms far from sunlight, able to muffle any sound. Or it was because I knew the darkness held the shadows I never wanted to find me.

I felt eyes staring at me. Over the years, I learned to notice eyes on me, notice when I wasn't alone in a room. I was a hunter, a tracker. If I didn't know my surroundings, I was dead. It was as simple as that.

I inhaled deeply, feeling warm air weigh my lungs before exhaling away all the stiffness in my body. I slumped down and ran a hand through my hair. My mind hurt. I was confused, panicked, frightened, angry, guilty. I was everything I shouldn't be.