Chosen - Chained

Part Two

"Again."

Raven knew it was a stupid request, but she refused to give up. She stumbled to her feet, scattering sand from the floor around her. The sun had already set, leaving them both in flickering lamplight and muted moonbeams. Shadows moved strangely against the stone walls of the practice arena, and Raven felt her head spin and sway as she tried to make sense of all of it. Her body was exhausted, worn to its barest thread, and teetering on the edge of breaking down, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She would keep going until he told her to stop, not the other way around.

Raven pitched forward, sliding her front foot into position as she angled her staff in front of her. Across the training room floor Damian rested his weight on a bo staff, his eyes sweeping down the length of her before meeting her exhausted stare with a curious one. He lifted an eyebrow and stepped forward, lips twitching. Finally, he stopped in front of her and plucked the staff from her hands, tilting his chin towards the exit behind her.

"It does not do you any good to try and trick yourself into thinking you can continue. You've had enough... beloved." Damian's voice was a low hum - a teasing note that effectively ended whatever kind of rebellion was rising up inside her. He moved to the worn, old weapons rack on the wall, setting both of the staffs in it. "It's late, and you should retire for the evening."

"I can go again."

He turned and looked at her, his hands falling to his sides. "Is that so?"

Raven swallowed, trying to read the planes of his face. He stepped forward again, crowding her space. She could feel his heat, smell the sharp scent of sweat and sand, and practically hear the barely-there rumble of a chuckle in the back of his throat. Damian picked up his hand, resting it heavily on her shoulder, so that it felt like the weight of the world was testing her strength, and pushed at her with the smallest of shoves. Without meaning to, Raven stumbled backward, trying to regain her footing in the slick sand, and she realized he was right. That was mortifying. Her shoulders slumped and she watched him move past her, motioning for her to follow.

"Come now. It's late."

Reluctantly, Raven followed him, each step heavy and uneven. Admitting that he was right about her was infuriating, but she didn't want him to see how much it upset her. She walked into the empty hallway, the stillness of the air stifling the space between them. The rest of the world felt like it was a universe away, and they were the only people who existed.

Damian stared down at her from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. He swept his eyes over her. "You're still tense." His voice was dark, and he paused next to her, crowding her against the wall. "And uncomfortable."

Well, add that to the list of things he was right about. Of course he was right. Damian was so damn observant all the time. She'd been wound tight since two weeks ago, when he had pinned her to the sand in the training room and who whole body had lit up like a display of fireworks. She could still feel his eyes boring into her, the sharp edge of steel as it slid against her skin... it practically haunted her, reminding her of all the things that were developing between them. How was she supposed to make sense of anything if he kept breaking her like this.

Since then, if she let her mind wander for more than just a few seconds, it seemed to flash back to that moment, reliving each movement - each breath, and each electrical spark against her skin. It happened over and over, until she could recite every detail like it was something memorized, and nothing she did seemed to relieve the ache inside her. She was forced to constantly live with that gnawing emptiness that only one thing could fill.