Chapter 28 #2
“Just do it,” he said from farther away, harsher now.
I did as he said and let my eyelids fall.
A moment later, I could hear him retching. It was forced and violent, sounding more human than demon. Maybe it was my emotions playing tricks on me, but my heart cracked at the sound of him doubled over. He had done it for me—to save my life.
Another minute or so, and he finally stopped. His footsteps grew closer until he was right in front of me.
“You can open your eyes, now.”
My eyes snapped open and instantly found his, disappointed that he had replaced the mask over his face. It made me see him as a demon all over again when I had just started to see him as something else.
He bent down so we were at eye level and pointed to my skirt. “I need to wrap your shoulder, and my clothes are covered in blood. I’ll need to take a strip of fabric from yours.”
My body locked up at that, at the thought of him tearing my clothes. “I’ll do it.” I held up a hand, and he leaned back a bit.
I bent over and brought up the hem of my skirt to my mouth and gripped it between my teeth.
My eyes never left his face, waiting for him to glance down to my exposed knees.
But he never did. He held my stare, patiently waiting.
I tried to tear the fabric, yanking and pulling it against my teeth. But it was harder than I thought.
The demon held out a finger, and a dark claw emerged from the tip, curling at the end like a talon.
He reached over and slit the material in my mouth until a long strip dangled from my lips, and my skirt fell back into place over my legs.
He gripped the strip and pulled it from my teeth before kneeling beside me without a word.
“I could have done it myself, you know,” I bit out.
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said under his breath so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it, then commanded in a normal tone, “Take your other arm out of your sleeve.”
Careful not to let my shirt fall completely, I kept a hand placed firmly on the fabric over my chest and pulled my arm free.
He wrapped the torn strip of fabric around the wound on my shoulder, across my chest, under the opposite arm, then secured it tightly with a knot at my back.
His touches were tender and caring, completely at odds with what I had ever expected from him, and washed up a memory I had long forgotten about.
Three years ago
Winters were hard, but so long as everyone contributed, we always managed.
Vosten and Daemon were out back chopping firewood while Ma was taking a nap in her bedroom, and I was preparing dinner for later that night.
Despite my layers, the cold air in the room bit at my skin, and my fingers shook from the chill.
I stared out the kitchen window, only half-paying attention to what I was doing—which was a mistake on my part. With my shivering hands, I should have been more mindful of the knife cutting into the vegetables I was holding.
I hissed when the blade sliced into my palm, and I dropped it. It clattered loudly against the wooden floor, but I hardly noticed—too concentrated on the blood trickling down my arm.
“Vhae!”
I whipped my head around to find Daemon coming through the door with an armful of chopped logs. He tossed them aside, and they rolled across the floor, shaking the whole house. He rushed over and took my wrist, examining the wound.
“Shit. That’s deep.”
“I’m fine,” I huffed. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“You’re bleeding. It’s not nothing,” he said softly.
He guided me over to sit at the table, the old wood creaking under my weight.
He went over to the washbasin and dipped a cloth that was hanging over the edge into the water.
After squeezing out the excess, he crouched down in front of me, gently dabbing it on the cut and turning the white cloth pink as the blood soaked into it.
His touch was tender and careful, as if I were something fragile.
“I could have done this myself,” I said, a little more breathlessly than I intended.
His hands stopped, and his eyes met mine. “You shouldn’t have to.”
My lips parted, and I was pretty sure I stopped breathing entirely. We stared at each other for a long minute before he looked back down and resumed cleaning my hand.
His words made my stomach flutter while also pinching my heart, sinking beneath my skin.
Once he was finished, he ripped a strip from his shirt without hesitating before wrapping it around my hand. When he was done tying it off, his fingers lingered.
It was only for a moment, the span of a heartbeat, but it was long enough to mean something. The glint in his eyes asked a million questions.
The air became heavy in that moment, crowded by the words neither of us spoke. But it was felt.
He cleared his throat and stood, acting like nothing had happened at all.
“Be more careful next time,” he said quietly.
The way he said it wasn’t like I was careless or irresponsible. It was as if I mattered. As if he would have stayed…if only I had asked.
Neither of us spoke, and I tried to avoid looking at him as that moment replayed in my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if this demon before me was somehow Daemon. But I knew Daemon. He wouldn’t have been capable of doing whatever could have covered him in so much blood. He was too gentle for that.
The demon towered over me and extended a hand to help me to my feet.
Without the venom consuming me and no longer writhing in pain, I took in my surroundings.
He had brought us to a stream nestled deep in the forest. I had no idea how long I’d been going in and out of consciousness, but I assumed from the quiet that we were far from the chaos we’d escaped from earlier.
The water gently trickled over smooth stones, creating a peaceful hum that filled the silence between us.
Moss caressed the edges of the stream, leading to lush grass on either side.
Light from the setting sun streaked through the canopy overhead, bathing the area in a soft, calming hue.
It was quiet and peaceful, like the forest itself had released a deep breath.
“Is that the other side of the island you were talking about?” I nodded to the land across the water.
“No. Unfortunately, I had to go in the wrong direction or risk running into another demon. If anyone saw you in my arms, it’d put an even bigger target on your back.” He stepped back a few paces.
I blamed the whole venom extraction moment for the reason why my cheeks heated at the thought of being in his arms. Despite hating demons, I couldn’t stop thinking maybe he was different.
Everything he had done for me since coming here kept replaying in my mind.
Him carrying me, the way his strong arms felt wrapped around my body, the feeling of his mouth on my neck—and how it took away the memory of feeling the teeth of another.
I knew it was stupid. I was letting one stupid phrase get to me. He wasn’t Daemon…
“Why would—” I nearly choked on my words when I turned to face him. “Uh…what are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Taking off my shirt.”