Prickly thorns, tender roses

Changes

Ravenna glanced upward, to the lowered golden head, the eyes set on her wrist, then to the steady hands holding her arm fast. She was lying down on a table close to the apothecary section of the wide knowledge trove which consisted of his library and ruined laboratory.

A sharp hiss filled the space when Adrian poured a clear liquid over the open gash. His gaze flickered momentarily to hers before drifting back to the cut. The dagger had been sharp, and her nerves had been strained at the time. Thus the wound was deep, and as the pair reached the castle after an endlessly silent trek, the dhampir took Ravenna straight into this area to mend it. We would not want you succumbing immediately after such an honorable feat, he had said derisively. But in truth, Ravenna had sensed an eerie sort of unease reaching from him, along with the distracting sound of his heart and the feel of him, so warm and tense against her. In his arms at the time, the woman had completely and shamelessly leaned into him. And the silk of his bare neck against her temple was still etched into her mind, as was the beating of his life, pulsing through her with an intensity Ravenna had never experienced nor felt before.

"What type of alcohol is that?" she asked presently as the blond placed the bottle aside.

"A strong regional moonshine. It should prove a good enough disinfectant," Adrian replied, reaching for a thread and needle placed aside.

It was true. Though a largely forgotten piece of knowledge nowadays which few but healers and scholars were privy to, the ancients had been known to resort to alcohol for the cleansing of wounds. And he knew of it, of course he would know of it. His mother had been a physician after all.

"Now, its use will be twofold," he continued blankly, meeting her eyes again and handing her the bottle which Ravenna took with her other hand, rising into a seated position. She regarded the transparent liquid with a critical eye. "I must stitch the wound, and we have nothing to numb you with, so drink."

Warily, she complied. Ravenna coughed her heart out after the first burning sip reached down her throat and poured its fire into her stomach, mellowing her limbs. She did not partake in alcohol and thus her body had little resistance to speak of. She made a face, "Disgusting."

"More, Ravenna. This will hurt," Adrian urged as their eyes met.

There was a sudden sizzle ringing in her ears when she now stared into those golden eyes, and though Ravenna saw nothing in their depths, she somehow felt it all. His lips had touched her skin, she had offered him to partake of her blood... and it had transformed him, if only momentarily, into someone much more ruthless, merciless and no less deadly. It was the great proverbial behemoth in the room, but none would speak of it. She had never been as frightened of anything before, not even when gasping for breath under a night creature's hold; nor had she ever been as damnably excited. The thought caused immediate distress. What... what is happening to me?

"I have never done this before, mind you," Adrian broke the silence, finally looking away. "I have only ever seen my mother do it," he took the needle and thread, also placed into a dish with alcohol.

She could not do it properly herself anyway. Ravenna nodded in understanding, taking another swig of the moonshine. The taste was horrible but its numbing effects were already making themselves known. Just then Adrian placed a hand to her shoulder applying only a little pressure, urging her to lie down again. She startled, and as drawn by an unseen force their eyes met again. When had his become so dark? The shade of them was no longer light gold, no. His irises were now a reddish copper as they bore into hers. Ravenna swallowed and slowly reverted to her horizontal position, still unable to look away. And apparently neither was he, for the beam of his eyes still burned into her.