Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The men appeared as if from nowhere, bowling into Keeran and sending Aelia sprawling into the roots that protruded from the hard earth.
She staggered against the tree, clambering to her feet. She turned to see five men surrounding Keeran where they’d knocked him to the ground, beating him viciously.
"Keeran!" She dove towards them, but something caught her legs, and she landed flat on the ground with a graceless thud. Slightly winded, she struggled to her knees. Somebody grabbed at her hair and pulled her to her feet, wrestling her arm behind her back.
"My apologies for ruining the moment, but I'm afraid it provided too good a distraction for us to miss," her captor panted in her ear, his breath rancid.
Aelia writhed against him, trying to free herself from his painful grip despite the warning stabs of pain as her shoulder threatened to dislocate.
Throwing her free elbow backwards into his stomach caused him to release her momentarily, but she wasn't fast enough, and he caught her arm again, his fingers digging into her hard enough to bruise.
"None of that now," he said through his teeth and brought his knee up into the back of her ribs.
Gasping, she scratched at his hand and threw her body weight against him, sending him stumbling backwards, dragging her with him.
It wasn't enough to completely unbalance him, and he sent his fist flying into her face, hard enough to make stars dance in her vision.
"I said none of that!" he growled, and kneed her in the ribs again. She still couldn’t see his face, but the scent of stale sweat shrouded him, bad enough to make her want to gag.
"Aelia!" Keeran thundered, and the fury in his voice was startling. She looked towards him, struggling to focus after the blow to her head.
Keeran was already on his feet, and two of their attackers lay on the ground, unquestionably dead.
The other three were battling with him simultaneously, trying to catch him off guard, but to little avail.
He seemed to blur as he blocked and attacked, spinning around with surprising agility for his monstrous size, dealing out crushing blows.
The remaining men darted around him, some wielding knives, some weaponless, but neither seemed able to touch him as he ducked and spun and sidestepped.
He was raw and animalistic, terrifying and savage.
His attacks landed heavy and accurate, felling another man with a hit to the temple with the heel of his hand.
The man behind Aelia cursed and spat into the grass.
Facing her towards him, she got a glimpse of him before he punched her in the face again.
Then he threw her on the floor, kicked her in the stomach, and ran to help his comrades.
Her vision flickered dangerously as pain wrapped its fingers around her skull and squeezed.
Curled in a ball, she clutched at her sides, as if she could stop her barely healed injuries from splitting open.
Her face screwed up as she waited for the flickering to settle, for the pain to finish welling.
Moaning, she managed to get to her knees and drag herself over to the bags, rummaging frantically. Finally, she found what she was looking for and, hauling her battered body to its feet, she stumbled towards the group of thrashing men, holding Otis’s dagger tightly.
Keeran jabbed one of the men in the throat and he dropped to the ground with a sickening rattle of breath. The remaining two attacked him wildly, doubling their efforts.
Keeran blocked and avoided blows that came with ever-increasing ferocity as fear gave his opponents strength.
They had started this fight with the certainty of winning, but now the odds weren’t looking so good, and they fought ferociously for their lives.
Blood ran down Keeran’s forehead, but he showed no signs of tiring, every movement made with calm perfection.
He jumped forwards and kicked one man's knee, breaking his leg, before punching upwards under the man's chin, snapping his neck with the force of the contact.
Aelia gasped, and somehow, Keeran heard. His head whipped to her, and she recoiled at the sight of him. There was nothing human in his eyes; the evil she’d caught glimpses of shone bright and unmistakable, fear sending a shiver of goosebumps over her skin.
The black of his eyes flickered as she stepped back, revealing something of the man she’d thought she was beginning to know, an agony she didn’t understand creasing between his brows.
The remaining man seized this opportunity and hit Keeran on the back of his neck, quickly following it with a kick to his lower back, sending Keeran onto his knees. She recognised the man as the one who had held her and staggered towards them, unnoticed as he took hold of Keeran's head.
Panic enveloped her; there was no way she was going to make it to him in time. She was going to watch Keeran die, watch this thug snap his neck.
Horror surged inside of her, making it impossible to breathe, overwhelming every thought but one; save Keeran.
He didn’t need saving though. In a tenth of a second, he reached over his head to grab hold of his attacker’s arms and, with a powerful heave and a roll, flipped the man over and into the dirt in front of him.
Aelia threw the dagger towards him, and Keeran didn’t hesitate, swiping it from the air and plunging the knife into the man's throat. Blood poured in horrifying gurgles from his open neck as she stood over him, watching with wide eyes as the noises rapidly quietened, until they stopped altogether.
She stared at the mutilated flesh and tried to feel some remorse or sorrow for the loss of life, but she felt too numb, her hands shaking where they hung by her side. Only then did she look up.
Keeran knelt on the floor a few feet from her. He was hunched over himself, but seemed to notice as she took a step towards him.
"Don’t!" he warned. It was more of a growl than words. She stopped where she was, halted by the tone of his voice, and watched him as he knelt in front of her, engaged in some internal struggle.
She recognised it; the desire to Shift artemian’s felt, when magic tempted them towards their animalistic tendencies, throwing them into an emotional frenzy.
He battled with it, breathing quickly as it warred against him.
His whole body shook with the strength it took to control himself, his hands clenched into fists that he pressed into his thighs.
Slowly, moment by moment, he seemed to regain control.
His breathing slowed, and the shaking stopped.
The campfire seemed to dim, darkness creeping a little closer from the wilderness around them.
Finally, he sat back on his feet, running his hands through his hair.
He looked up at her for the first time, and relief shot through her as she saw the warm brown of his eyes.
"Oh, Aelia, your face!" he exclaimed. She knelt before him, placing her hand on his knee.
"I'm alright,” she mumbled, not letting herself wince at the pain of talking.
Blood trickled down his cheek from a small cut on his brow, but otherwise he seemed completely unharmed. She raised her hand to wipe the blood from his face, but he shrugged her off and guided her back to the fire, sitting her in its warmth.
He left to fill a bowl with water but returned quickly, sitting beside her.
Taking off his ruined shirt, he ripped strips from the cleaner fabric and soaked them in the bowl.
She glanced at his chest, averting her eyes automatically before realising what she had seen.
Gasping, she couldn’t help but look back at him.
Her eyes widened as they ran over the multitude of scars that covered almost every inch of him. A few fresh cuts oozed blood, but they were nothing compared to the long, jagged scars that stretched across his body.
The deformed skin shone silver in the firelight.
Adrenaline numbed her inhibitions, and she leant forward to trace her finger along a particularly nasty one, feeling the smooth, raised skin.
They varied in both size and age, some faint and almost invisible, whilst others would never be so indiscernible, no matter how much time passed.
They covered his arms and shoulders, winding their way down his abdomen to his back.
He sat still while she examined him, watching her face intently.
"Come," he said finally, and she sat up, looking into his eyes. Her mind was flooded with questions, all pushing to the front, desperate to be asked, but she bit her tongue. Now was not the time.
The cloth was cool as he carefully washed dirt from the cuts on her face. It stung but she refused to let him see any sign that it hurt. After seeing what pain he had endured, her own seemed comparatively pitiful.
"l saw him knee you, let me see that too."
Lifting her shirt over her back, she showed him. He cursed under his breath. She turned, seeing his dark eyes burning as he glared at her side, and she stretched her neck to try and see for herself. Already the skin was turning a fresh shade of purple.
"Is it that bad?" It didn't feel bad, but shock still numbed the pain. He ran his fingers over her, tickling the sensitive skin. He gently prodded around her ribs, and she grimaced.
"It will bruise badly, but the cuts won't scar if you use the poultice I gave you.
He could have broken your ribs, but I don't think he did. You were lucky." He rose to his feet to retrieve the poultice. Aelia couldn’t be sure, but his hand seemed to tremble as he gave it to her. “You stay here, I’ll dispose of the bodies.”
He didn’t pause, leaving her kneeling in the dirt as he dragged off the first of the attackers into the night without so much as a glance her way.
Aelia gritted her teeth against the wave of disquiet he left in his absence, fighting to control the rising sense of unease that was constricting her chest.
What the hell had just happened?
The poultice sat forgotten in her lap as she looked back at the camp beneath the willow tree, where he’d kissed her.
If you could even call it that. Never before had she experienced anything like it; he’d kissed her like he owned her, dominating her in a way that had her soul screaming for more, winding her need higher and higher until she’d have given him anything. With barely more than a kiss.
Aelia let out a shuddering breath.
Sure, she’d had her fair share of fun in Callodosis when the opportunity arose, but what Keeran had done to her went way beyond fun.
She fought the urge to touch her jaw, the memory of his hand fixing her in place whilst he desecrated her chest with his mouth, turning pain to pleasure in a way that was positively unholy.
Right up until he’d stopped.
The unease she felt at the way he’d left was magnified as she remembered him pulling away, looking at her with pure, unadulterated horror.
Shame trickled in, cold and familiar. He’d pulled away, in a moment like that. Why? It couldn’t just be because she couldn’t Shift… could it?
Because the hypocrisy of rejecting her for being different was just too much for her to accept quietly, not after she’d seen him take out six armed artemians in a matter of minutes.
She looked at the bodies spread out amongst the long grass, the memory of him killing them one by one burned into her retinas.
He was fast, unnaturally fast, and she’d never seen anyone with enough strength to snap someone’s neck with a single blow. Fear scuttled through her as she remembered the raging evil in his unnaturally black eyes, something utterly monstrous seething in them.
Twisting her neck in the direction he’d disappeared in, Aelia wondered what kind of evil she was dealing with, and what on earth it wanted with her. Frowning, she realised there was a part of her that was eager to find out.