Chapter 5 #3
If she’d been a dark witch, he might not have cared. Truly, he’d have no issue torturing one of those vile creatures.
He also wouldn’t have been trusting enough to give them free rein within his home. They’d be fixed to the wall with a chain, limiting their movement and range – as he wasn’t great with barrier magic.
But he could see this female was currently harmless. White witches like her were rather purist in their mindsets until they turned, and it was exceptionally difficult to make them. But they always did, and he expected the same for her one day.
Just not now, at least. For the moment.
I wanted to see what she’d do. He expected to find her still cooking, and if not that, sulking somewhere or lingering at the exit to his home.
Then he would have teased her about her current predicament and pleaded with her to try, so he could hilariously watch her almost meet her demise.
The sharp rocks below would ensure death unless he rescued her.
I didn’t expect to see her already tending to Selene.
Doing more than he’d asked of her, it appeared.
Selene was rather strong and independent, but he couldn’t help being overprotective of her while she was in this vulnerable state. She could do nothing to protect herself. She had no say. Kier had to be that for her.
She wouldn’t appreciate a witch feeding her or even being near her. Kier didn’t either, but there was little he could do.
Capturing this female hurt his pride. He had strong magic, and he was rather adept at healing and removing hexes, but he was incapable in this instance. He’d even prefer to remove the additional hex that left his sister in a human form, but he had no way of knowing if it might make matters worse.
Human forms were easier to treat than dragon ones.
The witch’s eyes watered when the spell was near completion, and Kier averted his gaze, uncomfortable with her tears. He also didn’t understand why she was shedding them again now that her wound was mending.
She’s right. I shouldn’t assume she will know what I want.
Once more reminded of his own wrongdoings, and the care she’d already tried to provide, he brought his gaze back down to her hand.
To already attempt to feed her, though... she must be kind. Kind enough to apparently want to help.
He was still wrought with anger and hate, but perhaps he shouldn’t lash out so blindly at someone who, truly, played no part in what had happened. He could save his temper for when she actually angered him.
She sniffled, and he couldn’t help peeking at her again.
Her long, dark lashes were curved and dotted with tears.
They framed large onyx eyes. No, onyx might be incorrect, as the edge of an iris actually shimmered with russet brown when the closest torch shed its light over it.
He wondered if her eyes, which appeared like glittering night, would actually become rather bright with an alluring brown if she stood in the sun.
It was a glimmer, just a mere peek, at the possibility.
Her nose and cheeks were redder than before due to her crying, and he hated admitting that it actually made her appear sweet.
She’s really rather pretty, he thought, annoyed with himself at the admission.
It was the first time he’d truly looked upon her to see it.
Wispy chestnut-brown curls framed her hairline; strands that were shorter and escaped her braided ponytail.
Her face was oval in shape, with soft cheekbones that made her appear delicate.
The rounded tip of her elegant nose sat above plump lips, the top one slightly darker than the fuller, dusky rose of the bottom one.
He noted a small beauty mark beneath the corner of her right eye, and another slightly larger one on the sharp arch of her left eyebrow. They stood out as dark spots against the smoothness of her light-brown skin, drawing his focus to them – especially the one below her observant gaze.
Which made it awkward when she looked up to him and their eyes instantly locked on each other.
“Thank you,” she muttered. “It feels much better.”
He grunted, uncomfortable with her gratitude when he was the reason she’d been injured in the first place. Not to mention the fact that he’d been staring at her strangely. He also didn’t like how enjoyable her voice was when it was infinitely softer and not filled with annoyance.
He was the one to pull away, rather than her, when she had every reason to snatch her hand from him. He should’ve done it in disgust at touching one of her kind, but he merely retracted his paw slowly once he was sure she could handle the weight without pain.
“There,” he started, then cleared his throat as he put space between them. “I have healed you and made amends.”
Now he could go back to being irritated by the situation, and at her being in this room when there was little need at the moment.
“I will show you the spellbooks I have prepared so far, as you mentioned you were unfamiliar with the hex. Hopefully something in those pages is useful.”
Anything he could do to quicken the process and get this witch out of his home would be welcome, as well as the return of his beloved sibling.