They slept, gold-flecked firelight splashing across their faces, as a shadow emerged from gnarled black branches framing the forest. Cold eyes swept over the travelers: there she was, beside the Hanyou, black hair mingling with the dandelions. The creature stalked past the flames towards the girl; his movements were fluid, so calculated that his robes barely brushed together and his breath was in tune with the summer wind. He knelt and caressed her neck, taking pains not to scratch her with his claws. Her eyebrows drew together and she shifted away, whimpering in her sleep--he wondered if she could sense his aura, even in dreams. A powerful miko, he reminded himself: the best. He leaned over and grazed his lips against her temple in a mocking embrace, their hair pooling together. "Wake up," he whispered, and then pressed his claws firmly around her neck.
Her body jolted, pinned beneath his, and he felt her chest heaving up and down as panic filled her lungs. In her startled awakening he'd pressed a palm against her mouth and increased the pressure of his nails around her neck; she stilled, shuddering, wide eyes fixed on his face.
"Do you know who I am?" He drawled. She squinted and blinked, following the icy outlines of his elegant features, white as the full moon shimmering beyond the treetops. Yes, she recognized him: Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western lands, rumored to appear swirling in white robes like the wind--a legend, and overall, dangerous. She nodded. "Then do exactly as I say." He lifted his hand from across her mouth and pulled his claws back from her neck to grip her shoulder firmly, hoisting her up. "Do not make a sound," he whispered. She nodded, tears spilling down her face, arms-crossed and shivering beside the imposing figure. "Put your shoes on." Obediently, shakily, she slipped on her sneakers, then turned towards Sesshomaru. "Follow me," he murmured before turning his back to the fire and striding out of the meadow. Kagome stumbled after him, heart pounding beneath her night-shirt, and didn't glance back at her companions: she refused to say goodbye.
He led her down a dirt path, past jagged tree limbs and sleeping birds, to a brook streaming over pebbles lining a groove in the earth. He studied her: cheeks damp with tears, face pale and drawn, a white shirt grazing her slim thighs. "I'm ill," he said, and in the moment noticed that his voice didn't sound like his own; it was as if he was lingering outside of his own skull, watching time pass with a detached sadness. "Dying, I suspect."
The girl's face softened as she hesitantly placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry..." she said awkwardly, confused as to why he was confessing this to her, still too rigid with schock to empathize with the demon.
"It's my heart..."
Kagome's mind spun with images of modern drugs and tools while her eyes lingered on his chest. He could hear it: the rhythms that thrummed in his ears since birth had changed, slowed, barely noticeable but sure to worsen. Pa-pum, pa-pum...
"You will return with me to my estates and heal me," he said factually before narrowing his eyes in preparation for a protest.
She licked her lips and tried to swallow, but her throat felt too dry and tight. "And if I don't go with you?"
"You will, conscious or not."
Resigned, she nodded, weariness weaving around her limbs. "Alright," a whisper, sad--in the back of her mind tangles of half-formed escape plans fell away in tatters beneath the threat of his claws.
The demon grinned and picked Kagome up, bracing her securely against his chest before leaping away from the stream. Shyly, she curled her fingers around his shoulders and closed her eyes in the nape of his neck, feeling his heart beat beneath the twilit wind.
How you liiike?