Dark Magic

Chapter 22

Rei's POV

       I waited for the perfect moment to strike, leaping from the bushes onto the red cap's back. Growling, the creature swung me from its abdomen, and I landed in the underbrush. Too many times had it happened exactly like this; me on the ground, the faery towering above me, hungry for a kill. The red cap's eyes were black like shadows, small and beady. Its scythe, covered in what appeared to be dried blood, swung at me, slashing my stomach. Gritting my teeth, I rolled over, pushing myself off the ground.
       The red cap's scythe came awfully close to marring my skin again, and I ducked to make way. I slashed at its abdomen, sticky blood flowing from the fresh wound. For the first time, my sword was bathed in blood, the substance glistening in the pale moonlight. Grunting, the faery shoved me to the ground again, my breath escaping from my lungs much too fast. Gasping, I kicked out, managing to land a solid blow to the red cap's stomach. It stumbled, giving me a split second to right myself.
In its few seconds of weakness, I swung my sword at the red cap, slicing its leathery skin. In return, its scythe sunk deep in my stomach, and I choked. I won't give up. I had been training hard to one day be able to kill the fae, and I wasn't about to back down now. I would fight until I was bloodied and bruised, until this thing was begging on its knees for me to spare its life. I could see the hatred burning deep within the abyss that were its eyes, and time seemed to stop, only this time it was the red cap that was near death.
The air was alive, buzzing with electricity. Thunder boomed as rain began to pour. For the first time, fear flashed across the faery's eyes; I was now the predator. I could practically taste its fear; it fueled me, adrenaline surging through my veins. Rain drops rolled down my face, and my sword made its presence known deep in the faery's heart, staining its chest crimson. The red cap fell to the ground, its life now a thing of the past.
A wave of dizziness hit me, and I began to sway from blood loss. I collapsed, though not onto the ground. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was soon staring into eyes of lilac.

* * *

I must have passed out, for I awoke in a dark room. As my eyes focused, I realized it was the hut on the border. I lay on the old couch, wincing as I propped myself up. Looking down, I was greeted with a nasty sight. I was practically laying in a pool of my own blood. Upon hearing a faint sound in the other room, I started. For some odd reason, I thought I was alone. How strange.
Kiaran entered the room, carrying what looked to be a needle and thread in one hand, gauze and a wet washcloth in the other. The dim lighting made his eyes glow uncannily, and I swallowed nervously in his presence. His unearthly features were flawless, glowing softly. "Hold this." He handed me the gauze.
       He reached out to lift my shirt, but I smacked his hand away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I gave him a look.
       "How am I to stitch you up if your shirt is in the way?" His tone dripped with boredom; I doubt he wanted to do this.
       "Because it's weird!" I cringed at the sudden pain that shot through my abdomen.
       "Would you rather die a slow, painful death? It's not like you're taking it completely off." His gaze bore into mine, seductive; I shivered, though I hoped he wouldn't notice. Not waiting for an answer, he pulled my shirt back from my stomach, and I gritted my teeth in pain. Kiaran brought the washcloth to my stomach, pressing it against my wounds.
       "Why do you always feel the need to save me? I'm fine on my own, you know." I looked up at him, struggling to keep eye contact.
       "If I had never saved your life the first time, you would've been dead a long time ago." His words were chilling; he was right, though I hated to admit it. Without Kiaran, I'd be dead. I had to owe it to him.
       "But you tried to kill me- when we first met." His face remained expressionless, black hair dripping rainwater. He was damnably beautiful, and I hated him for it.
       "I was provoking you; I've never once tried to kill you."
       "You tried to choke me to death! I'd say that's an attempt to kill me." Glaring at him, I did my best to ignore the fact that his hand still lay on my stomach, pressed against my wound.
       "I was trying to get a reaction out of you, and I succeeded. What more is there?" Trying to get a reaction, my ass. Scowling, I said nothing, causing his expression to darken. Lifting his hand, he tossed the blood-soaked cloth to the floor. His hands were already stained with my blood too. He said nothing as he began to stitch my wound closed, and I gritted my teeth to keep from making a sound.
       Every once in a while, his hand would lightly brush my stomach, making me flinch; his touch was electric, addictive. I craved for his touch again, for the feeling it ignited within me. Kiaran spoke in the silence. "Do you care for him?" He didn't look at me, just continued stitching me up. His face did not betray the slightest bit of emotion, if he even felt anything.
"Who?" I knew whom he was speaking of, yet I wanted to hear his voice again.
Kiaran met my gaze, something dark within his eyes. "Blaike." The way he said his name implied a past I knew not of, and I gulped.
"I-I... don't- I mean, I do care for him, I just don't know if it's like... that." I stumbled over the words, feeling attacked under his probing gaze. He didn't say anything, just focused his attention on my injuries once again. We remained in silence for the next ten minutes or so, before I dared to speak again.
"Kiaran? Why were you in that closet that day?" My voice came out just above a whisper, and he looked up at me.
"I had heard there was a human in Sapphira, and I was curious. So I followed you to Blaike's house and hid in the closet." Dear god save me, but I couldn't help but drop my gaze to his lips, though I looked away upon Kiaran noticing, my cheeks reddening.
"Why stick around? You're always watching me, always there at the right time... yet I'm completely uninteresting..." I trailed off, not bearing to look at him.
"You fascinate me." I glanced at him, stomach full of butterflies; I had always been entranced by Kiaran, yet it was now only now that I truly felt something for him.
"Why?" I don't know why I said it, but I was curious.
"There are very few things that catch my interest, but you're one of them. You're different than I expected." Kiaran continued stitching my wounds, and I winced every once in a while. He was surprisingly gentle; I would have never known he was capable of such a thing. My emotions have been on a high lately, and right now, Kiaran was not helping with that.
Once finished stitching me up, Kiaran stood, heading into the other room. I sighed, not wanting him to leave so soon; I felt crazy for feeling this way, but I just couldn't seem to help myself. I began to sit up, but Kiaran had appeared again, keeping me from getting up. With a wet cloth in one hand, he cleaned up the blood that was smeared around my wounds, ever gentle. Once he was done, he pulled my soiled shirt back over my stomach, getting up from the floor once again.
I almost told him to stay, but thought better of it; I was stupid for these feelings, and there was no possible way he'd ever have feelings for anyone, especially a human as pathetic as me. Kiaran didn't return, and I suspected he'd left. I felt disappointed, and adjusted myself on the couch, drifting off into a restless sleep.
-------------
I enjoyed writing this chapter way too much 😂
Kay_Ro You're welcome, I think you'll enjoy this chapter 😏