Chapter 5 #2
She hadn’t even mentioned her sore knee that also bashed into the wall, as that didn’t hurt as much. She was picking her battles.
I cannot do this. She was moments from truly and utterly imploding, and she was sure to say something that she may or may not regret, but it would definitely upset him.
She stormed towards the exit, and he intercepted her so swiftly that she stumbled back, only to draw on her ire and cast her teary glare down at him.
“Get out of the way,” she bit darkly.
“Did I truly hurt you?” he asked, his tone much softer than it was just a moment ago.
Then he rose onto his haunches and reached out with his forepaws, and Carwyn whipped her injured hand to the side before he grabbed her.
“Don’t touch me!” Her shout ended on a groan with the jarring movement.
He shrunk a little, only to straighten himself a heartbeat later. “I didn’t mean to harm you, female.” His gaze landed on her wrist, his spiked brows drawing in tighter. “I’m attempting to make amends.”
“I don’t need your amends.” She stepped to the side to put space between them. “You have done enough. I may not be as powerful as a dark witch, but I do have the ability to heal myself.”
“Yes, but not like dragoncraft. Your way takes longer.”
“I don’t want your help,” she sneered stubbornly. “I don’t need it.”
A growl vibrated from his broad, scaled chest. “Yes, but you shall have it, as is the way when we do something wrong.”
Before she could stop him, he snatched her forearm in his paw and yanked her towards him.
Overwhelming pain burst through her at the sudden motion, causing hot, white light to burst in her sight, and it was a small relief that her dress sleeve stopped him from touching her skin directly.
Still, Carwyn fought. His grip was so strong and tight that she didn’t budge an inch as he twisted his head to look at her wrist. She only stopped to shudder when he placed his other paw under her fingers to lift her limp hand and assess the damage.
“I cannot see through the glove. I must remove it.” He poked a clawed finger beneath the fabric, and somehow roughness and smoothness caressed the back of her wrist. The conflicting sensations against her skin were lost to the throb of her injury being prodded.
Carwyn’s struggles renewed. “Don’t you dare!”
No, he did something much, much worse than merely remove it... he cut the back of it open.
A part of her wept, and she stamped her foot. My glove!
“Does it disgust you to touch one of my kind so much that you felt the need to wear this?”
He peeled it off, turning it inside out in the process to reduce the pressure on her wrist, only to drop it like it was worthless. She stared with dejection at her discarded glove on the ground.
“No,” she mumbled absentmindedly. “I wear them for my own reasons.”
If he was curious as to why, he didn’t care enough to question her. Instead, he lifted her hand again, even gentler than before, and assessed the swelling and purple bruising already rising.
He tsked, and she was about to kick him, but then he said softly, “I am sorry.” He ran a clawed thumb over her wound. “I have no intention of hurting you while you’re here, so long as you do as I have asked.”
Carwyn’s eyelashes fluttered, and she was dumbfounded that he apologised at all. Where was the callous jerk from earlier? The one who shouted at her, threatened her, shoved her?
She relaxed in his hold as he tipped his head while working her fingers, assessing the movement gingerly. It was the difference in his behaviour that kept her still for him, while her lips tightened with a lack of understanding of the change.
“It’s not broken, but yes, I can see it’s quite a nasty sprain. You may have torn something.” He released her and landed on his forepaws. As he walked away from her, the tips of his claws tapping against the stone lightly echoed. “Come. I have something that will fix it almost instantly.”
The echo of his touch lingered on her bare skin.
Like his paw, it still radiated with warmth.
His scales had been smooth and soft against her, yet somehow abrasive and tough at the same time.
His claws had tickled her palm, while the pads of his own fingers had brushed against hers as he’d tested the movement.
What she realised in that moment was the reason she didn’t immediately follow.
I couldn’t feel his emotions. Just his touch.
No hate, or guilt, or whatever he was feeling.
Just the pleasant, comforting warmth of his scales, the slight tickle of his claws, and how gently he assessed her injury.
My empathic hands – her curse – can’t feel through his scales.
It was the very first time in her whole life that she’d been able to touch another person and not be drowned in their heart and mind. His scales were a barrier to his skin. They were hard and thick enough to create a shield, but they still provided everything she’d been missing. Real touch.
Behind her sternum, an odd, ticklish sensation swirled as she cradled her hand for a different reason.
That’s the first time I’ve enjoyed someone touching me directly.
It was momentous for her.
Enough so that her heartbeat quickened in euphoria, even if it was caused by someone so hateful. I... I touched someone.
“Witch,” he called, without any bite in it. “Come.”
Carwyn turned and found him bringing down a clay jar from a high shelf. He reached his paw out while wiggling the fingers of it, beckoning her forward, and his glossy claws glinted in the firelight.
Her cheeks warmed with a blush, as the real reason she approached so easily was due to her wanting his touch again.
She didn’t care if he was mean; she selfishly wanted just a little more.
More warmth, and to feel his scales upon her bare flesh rather than through a glove.
To experience a person without an external barrier.
And, like before, he held her hand with care as he smeared cold, herbal-smelling salve onto her wrist. The milky, grainy concoction peppered with flecks of green began to glitter with black-and-blue dragoncraft.
It was hot, near scalding, yet it lacked pain and only offered relief as it soaked into her skin.
The swelling reduced, the purple bruising yellowed before fading, and her hand gained strength with every second that passed. If she’d attempted to do this herself, it still would’ve required bandaging and at least twenty-four hours before she’d regain unhindered movement.
Their levels of power were exceptionally imbalanced, as was everything else about them.
Rather than be mesmerised or feel honoured that she was experiencing the benefits of dragoncraft, her gaze remained transfixed on where his palm cradled hers.
I’ve waited so long to experience something like this. It was why she’d left her home and started her journey to begin with. Among other secrets. I’m so thankful to know what it’s like.
I don’t care if he hates me; I’d do anything just to hold his paw – as if she was holding a person’s hand. She wanted to thread her fingers through his and feel the comfort of that connection.
In the corner of her heart, in a place she tried to hide from, she thought she might even turn to evil magic for it.
How could fate be so cruel as to show her a physical connection was possible with him?
It’s not fair.
Kier peered at the little witch as he let his dragoncraft work into the pores of her skin until it sunk all the way to bone and tendon. He really did feel quite awful for hurting her.
He may have been justifiably angry with her and her kind, but he wasn’t a callous being. He also usually wasn’t so quick to be enraged, but he’d lashed out in panic when he saw her standing over his sister’s face while pouring questionable liquid down her throat.
Kier had tried to feed her something proper, but if it was thicker than water, it’d fill her mouth and she’d choke. He’d grown afraid of giving her anything, which had forced his urgency in removing her sleeping curse.
So how did she manage to feed Selene? he wondered, glancing at her lying upon his healing altar before focusing back on the female he was tending to.
Now that he’d been inside the room for quite some time, he noted that the scents of the liquid he’d splattered across her and the stone were harmless.
Mere vegetables and meat. The soup was thin, but it smelt hearty, strong, and only a little unpleasant, considering many of the ingredients didn’t mix well together. Yet it was exactly what Selene needed.
It wasn’t as if she could really taste it right now anyway.
I shouldn’t have lashed out, he grumbled mentally, annoyed with himself that he’d acted so brashly.