She’s deep in the throes of a nightmare, twisting and turning on her plush bed of wild heather. That banshee’s cry still ruptures from her throat, and something tugs inside my chest, sinking to the depths of my soul like an anchor descending towards the seabed.
She looks so helpless, so frightened, and I’m completely at a loss.
So, I just continue to stare. A lot of good I am.
“No, no!Please!”
I come back to my senses, gripping her shoulders. “Wake up!”
Her lids fly open, and then our eyes lock. Her sclera shows, and I can’t look away.
That sinking sensation returns to my gut until I’m drowning in a bottomless sea. What is happening? Why do I feel like this?
Her pulse thumps through her whole body, and my anchor descends, lower and lower, until that sea becomes the evergreen of her precious eyes.
They pin me in place, and any moment, I expect her to scream at the sight of me. I’m just another nightmare in the end—a detestable thing to be feared.
But then her eyes soften, and her shoulders sag as she recognises me. “T-Tegwyn.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. “Yes, it’s me… S-surprise.”
Well, this just got awkward, but what else was I supposed to say? I’m not the most sociable creature.
She shuts her eyes, blowing a sigh from her lips. “Thank goodness. They werehere…”
My heart rate spikes. She’s about to spill her secret. “Whowas here?”
A sheen glazes her eyes, and it’s like I’m no longer present. “Soldiers. They came back for me.”
I cock a brow. “Soldiers?”
She starts to tremble, but I force her to look at me again, letting my eyes flash. They reflect off her big, guileless pair, and I’m scarier than any banshee.
“What soldiers?Tell me…” My voice lacks all empathy, but I need to know who she’s running from.
Ivy whimpers when I grip her a little too tightly, and I loosen my hold. I forgot to retract my claws before I grabbed her, and I’ve left nasty red welts on her porcelain skin.
That’s what I do: I destroy everything I touch.
When I let her go, she grabs her furs and blankets, holding them close. Now her heavy gasps fill the cave. I’m not going to get my answers.
Not seeing any point in sticking around, I take my leave, heading for the exit. She grips my wrist, holding on like I’m her last lifeline. “Don’t go.”
My heart hiccups, and it takes me a moment to adjust to the sudden contact. I go to make a smart remark, but when I meet her shining, dewy eyes, the words die in my throat.
She genuinely wants me to stay and protect her from all the scary monsters out there.
It’s too bad that I’m just another monsterin the end.
With a heavy breath, I sit down beside her, sinking deep into the mattress. It seems she got enough heather, and at least she’s sleeping comfortably.
I was just in a bad mood that first night.
She doesn’t let go of my wrist, even long after she drifts off. When I start to get pins and needles, I still don’t take my arm away. It seems to placate her.
I don’t understand. Does my arm with its sharp claws really bring her comfort?
I watch her sleep. She really is a sight for weary eyes. The oil lamp casts her in a soft glow, giving her face a warm, velvety texture, and I’m tempted to brush my finger down her cheek.
