"Who's there?" He called out. His voice echoing softly in the hallowed space. "Show yourself."
A sense of unease settled over him as he knelt down to examine the broken glass scattered across the floor. His fingers traced the jagged edges gingerly, a careful exploration that inadvertently resulted in a small scratch upon his skin. Something felt amiss, a nagging suspicion that he was not alone within the sacred confines of the church. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
As he prepared to leave and inform the others, however, a movement caught his eye—a fleeting silhouette that danced at the edge of his vision, halting him in his tracks. Turning his full attention to the source of the disturbance, his gaze fell upon a form lying amidst the wreckage, obscured by the interplay of light reflecting off their skin and the pristine white fabric that adorned them.
With a growing sense of concern, he approached slowly, his footsteps echoing softly in the vast expanse of the church. His brows furrowed with worry as he drew nearer, the beating of his heart quickening with each step. Anticipation surged through his veins, mingling with the underlying sense of dread that gripped him.
Thud.
Drawing closer, he halted a few steps away from the unconscious form sprawled on the ground, his gaze sweeping over the man's battered figure, taking in every detail with a mix of concern and growing apprehension. As his eyes settled on the features partially obscured by tangled blonde hair, he couldn't help but notice the glimmer of reflected light dancing off the shards embedded within the locks.
The man's pale skin bore the marks of his ordeal, evident scratches and wounds inflicted by the broken mirror's sharp edges, painting a grim picture of the struggle he had endured. Yet, it was the peculiar hue of the blood seeping from his wounds that gave him pause—a golden liquid that flowed from the man's throat, staining his skin and clothes in an otherworldly glow.
The sound of the man's labored breathing, choked and uneven, filled the air, hinting at the severity of his injuries. B/N's gaze shifted to the source of the golden blood, his heart sinking as he realized the extent of the man's condition. A broken glass protruded from the man's stomach, the wound deep and grievous, causing more of the precious liquid to seep onto the ground below.
And in that moment onward, realization dawned upon him with chilling clarity—the person before him was no ordinary individual.
As he attempted to approach the fallen figure, he froze in his tracks when a distant voice erupted with urgency, followed by rapid footsteps that shattered the silence. The unexpected noise jolted B/N from his fading thoughts, forcing him to turn his gaze toward the source of the commotion—a figure darting by his side.
Huff.
It was his assistant, and his concern was evident in his tone as he asked, "Sir, are you okay? The commotion can be heard outside."
The expression on his face was conspicuous; beads of sweat were forming on his forehead; brows were furrowed as he stopped beside him, briefly catching his breath.
B/N's nose scrunched as he diverted his gaze away from his assistant.
"You did not get hurt, did you?" The trusted helper spouts in nervous and panicky utterances. "I need to inform Miss—"
"No, you don't have to." His firm and calm voice halted the panicky phrases of his assistant. "It isn't me."
The assistant, processing his words, felt a sense of reassurance wash over him, his initial tension easing as he hovered nearby, circling B/N to inspect him meticulously for any signs of injury. His thorough examination revealed no scratches or wounds, prompting a sigh of relief that seemed to release a weight from his shoulders.
And as B/N remained focused ahead, the assistant followed his gaze to where broken glass littered the ground.
With a sense of urgency, B/N knelt down among the shards, his movements swift and deliberate as he reached out for the wrist of the unconscious man lying before them, sensing as the laden breath coming from the form seemed to diminish.
"Sir—"
Shards of glass, soaked in golden hues, lay scattered atop the man's clothes, while the skin beneath showed signs of being pricked by the sharp edges.
With gentle meticulousness, B/N lifted the man's wrist, causing more glass to fall to the ground, creating fleeting faint noises, accompanied by a trickle of golden liquid that painted the ground underneath. The assistant held his breath as his curiosity fixed on the scene unfolding before him, his own pulse quickening with much anticipation similar to him.
And as B/N searched for a pulse his senses heightened in the tense moment. And then, a faint but steady beat met his fingertips.
Sigh.
Freeing a sigh of relief through his lips, he whispered under his breath unknowingly.
"He's still alive."
His breath hitched, his throat drying as he gently turned the figure over, revealing a face of ethereal beauty that took him by daze.
Silence.
His eyes widened in awe at the sight before him—the flawless complexion, the strands of blonde hair framing the man's face, and the delicate trickle of golden blood from his lips.
Enchantment seemed to weave itself around B/N as he met the man's half-lidded gaze, a gaze devoid of light yet strangely captivating. It felt as though the very air around them shimmered with an otherworldly allure, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as their eyes met.
A sudden movement from the man's arm, faint yet deliberate, brought B/N back to reality, his breath briefly hitching in his throat further as he felt the touch of the man's fingers on his cuff, leaving trails of golden hues in their wake. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, his heart racing in his chest as if trying to catch up with the rhythm of his now erratic breath.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed—the man's eyes fluttered closed, his grip on B/N's cuff loosening as if released from a trance.
"Sir, is something wrong?"
Silence.
With utmost tenderness, B/N cradled the injured man in his arms, mindful of any potential harm. He lifted the figure with gentle care, ensuring not to exacerbate any existing injuries, and turned to face his assistant, whose expression remained tense with anticipation.
"Prepare a slip to cover the damages incurred here," B/N instructed his assistant firmly, his voice unwavering as he attended to the matter at hand. He walked past the assistant, who watched him with a furrowed brow.
Thud.
B/N halted.
His eyes carried a stern expression that underscored the seriousness of his request as he turned slightly to address the assistant directly.
"And may I request something of you?" he asked urgently. His gaze bore a sternness that brooked no argument.
"To disclose only so little to Lilith."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
