9. Faye
9
FAYE
I crouch by the fire, turning the spit of meat slowly. It's just enough to warm it since I know he said that he doesn't eat like I do. He doesn't drink like I do. And it has me wondering if maybe, like the likar out there, it's cooking it that's the problem. The juices drip and sizzle, filling the cave with a savory aroma.
My stomach growls, reminding me it's been too long since I've eaten. But first, my "guest" needs tending to.
I glance over at the strange winged man. He's slumped against the wall, eyes closed, chest rising and falling steadily. Even after days of captivity, he maintains an air of dignity that both irks and intrigues me.
"Dinner time, pretty boy," I call out, cutting a chunk of barely-cooked meat.
Faye starts calling Cassius pretty boy
His eyes snap open, dark and intense. "Ah, my gracious host returns. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I roll my eyes, approaching him with the meat. "Can it. You need to eat."
"I've told you, I don't require-"
"Save it," I interrupt, shoving the meat towards his face. "You haven't touched a thing in days. Eat."
To my surprise, he leans forward and takes a bite. His eyes close, a low sound of satisfaction rumbling in his throat.
"Well, would you look at that," I mutter. "The high and mighty Cassius deigns to eat mortal food."
He swallows, licking his lips. "Perhaps I simply couldn't resist your expert culinary skills any longer."
I snort, but can't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Right. Because raw meat is such a delicacy."
"When one is starving, anything can be a feast," he replies, his eyes locked on mine. "Maybe next time you should throw me the animal whole."
I clear my throat, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze. "Well, don't get used to it. I'm not running a bed and breakfast here."
"No, just a cozy little dungeon," he quips, shifting against his bonds.
I sigh once he finishes the meat and still refuses the water. "Come on, time for your daily constitutional."
As I help him to his feet, I can't help but notice how warm his skin feels against mine. I push the thought away, focusing on the task at hand.
"You know, most captors don't offer such considerate accommodations," Cassius remarks as we make our way outside.
"Yeah, well, most captives don't have wings," I retort. "Or refuse to explain why they're sneaking around the forest."
He chuckles, and I like the sound too much. "Perhaps I simply enjoy the mystery."
I roll my eyes again, but can't quite suppress my amusement. As infuriating as he is, there's something about Cassius that draws me in. And that's exactly why I need to keep my guard up.
I help him wash up and adjust his ties in a way that one arm has limited range of motion so that he can relieve himself. It's my best option, and to his credit, he doesn’t break free in the few minutes of slack I give him.
I lead Cassius back into the cave, his wings brushing against my arm. He doesn't pull away, and I'm tempted to touch them again. This time, I refrain. I can't let my guard down around this one.
"Alright, pretty boy, back to your spot," I say, guiding him to the wall.
He sighs dramatically. "You know, sweetheart, these accommodations leave much to be desired. Perhaps we could discuss an upgrade?"
I snort, securing his bonds. "What, the five-star cave isn't good enough for you?"
"Well, the view is certainly improving," he says, his dark eyes locked on mine.
I feel heat creep up my neck and turn away. "Nice try. But flattery won't get you anywhere."
"Can't blame a man for trying," Cassius chuckles. "Though I must say, these ropes are becoming rather tiresome. Any chance you'd consider loosening them? Just a smidge?"
I cross my arms, fixing him with a stern look. "Not a chance. You still haven't explained those wings of yours. Or why you are out here."
He flexes said wings, the movement drawing my eyes. "They're just a natural part of my charm. Surely you can appreciate that."
"Charm, my ass," I mutter. "Last I checked, humans don't sprout wings."
"Perhaps I'm not entirely human then," he says with a wink.
I roll my eyes. "No shit. But what are you? Some kind of demon?"
Cassius laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Do I look like a demon to you?"
"You look like trouble," I retort. "And until you start giving me some real answers, those ropes stay put."
He sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. "You're a tough nut to crack, aren't you?"
"Survival of the fittest out here," I shrug. "And I didn't survive this long by being careless."
"Fair enough," Cassius nods. "But you can't keep me tied up forever."
I raise an eyebrow. "Watch me."
I grab some clean cloths and my medicinal supplies, steeling myself for the task ahead. Cassius watches me with those dark, intense eyes as I approach, and I force myself to focus on the task at hand.
"This might sting a bit," I warn, dabbing a cloth soaked in zabilla extract on one of his burns.
He hisses through his teeth but doesn't flinch away. "Your bedside manner could use some work, sweetheart."
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the way his skin feels under my fingers. "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly running a spa here."
"Could've fooled me," he quips, his voice low and husky. "Your touch is quite... soothing."
I feel heat creep up my neck and concentrate harder on treating his wounds. "Don't get any ideas, pretty boy. This is purely practical."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Though I must say, I'm flattered by your attention to detail."
I glance up, meeting his gaze. There's a glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. I quickly look away, cursing myself for the reaction.
"Hold still," I mutter, moving to a particularly nasty burn on his shoulder. As I work, I can't help but notice the defined muscles beneath his pale skin. I swallow hard, trying to push away the unwelcome thoughts.
"You know," Cassius says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "if you need to see more skin, I'm more than happy to oblige."
I snort, hoping it masks my flustered state. "In your dreams."
"Oh, trust me," he purrs, "my dreams are far more interesting than this."
I feel my cheeks burn and resist the urge to smack him. Instead, I press a little harder on his wound, eliciting a satisfying wince.
"Oops," I say innocently. "Did that hurt?"
He chuckles, the sound sending an unwelcome thrill through me. "You're playing with fire, sweetheart."
I meet his gaze, determined not to back down. "I'm not afraid of getting burned."
For a moment, the air between us crackles with tension. I'm acutely aware of how close we are, of the heat radiating from his body. His eyes darken, and I see a flicker of something primal there – desire, hunger, I'm not sure which.
Clearing my throat, I quickly finish treating his wounds and step back. "There. All done."
Cassius flexes his shoulders, testing the bandages. "My compliments to the healer," he says, his voice rough. "Though I think I might need some more... thorough attention later."
I turn away, busying myself with packing up the supplies. "Don't push your luck."
Just like every other day, the rest of the afternoon passes in little quips between us. I ask questions he won't answer. He prods me about my past and Liiandor, though I don't know why.
When dinner finally comes around, I toss the fresh carcass at Cassius's feet, waiting for his reaction. I expect him to at least wrinkle his nose at the dead animal since I suspect his earlier comment was a joke.
But his eyes widen slightly, nostrils flaring as he takes in the scent of raw meat. And he doesn't look at all unhappy with the prospect of his meal.
"Dinner's served, pretty boy," I say, crossing my arms. "Thought you might prefer it this way."
He looks up at me, something dark and hungry flashing in his eyes. "How... thoughtful of you."
I watch, waiting for the disgust or hesitation. Instead, Cassius leans forward, hunching over the carcass. His long hair falls like a curtain, obscuring my view. I hear a wet, tearing sound and quickly look away, my stomach churning.
When I glance back, Cassius is sitting up straight again, though blood dribbles down his chin. The carcass lies untouched, flesh and meat intact. I frown, confused.
"Not hungry after all?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "It seems my appetite isn't what it used to be."
I step closer, studying him. Despite the untouched meal, Cassius looks... better. The wounds I've been treating for days now look weeks old, healing far faster than anything I've seen before. His skin, while still pale, has a healthier sheen to it. Even his cracked lips seem less severe.
My eyes narrow as I take in these changes. "How...?" I start to ask, then shake my head. He wouldn't give me a real answer anyway.
Unease crawls up my spine. This man – if he even is a man – is becoming more of a mystery by the day. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm both wary and intrigued.
But with everything I learn about him, I'm starting to wonder if I made a mistake by saving him.