Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Prologue

The room was small, but it was all that could be afforded at the time. The wind outside picked up, shaking the precarious shelter while slipping in through the cracks under the door and windows, chilling the room. In a corner a short candle wick fought against the drafts, flickering weakly. It barely produced enough light to illuminate its surroundings or the two occupants within the small dwelling.

There was a rattling intake of breath before it was released in sharp, pronounced coughs. One of the still figures now moved, bending over to press closer to the one who laid very still on the dirt floor. He tucked in the feeble blanket around the shoulders of the person it covered: a woman.

Her face was pale and skin was pulled tightly across her cheekbones, showing her poor state of health. Dark hair lay out around her head in a pool of muted ebony, the only cushion offered against the hard ground. Eyes, once having been known for holding an alluring fire were dulled with the pain of the sickness she now bore. Years of illness had almost completely stripped her of any attribute that had once earned her the hearts of several men. As her beauty faded over time, so did her suitors' interests.

That is, all besides his.

He moved slowly, lines of concern forming between his brows as he lay down beside her. He watched, helpless as another shiver raced through her body. He continued watching even when she pitched herself upward into a sitting position, coughing up smalls amounts of the substance that was ailing her. Exhausted, she began to lay back down with his assistance. Once he was sure that she wasn't about to go into another fit of coughs, he moved closer yet, pulling her into his side to offer her his heat.

She stirred, seeming to turn into his side, but then giving up all together from a lack of energy. Tears stung his eyes as he watched her. The worry that had been eating away at him for some months now was growing exponentially as she remained still, breathing in light puffs. Instinct was demanding that he act, reach out and do what he could for her. Yet, his mind was whispering the dreadful truth: it was far too late. She would not live much longer.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled her in as tightly to his side as he could while minding her physical state. The tears that had been content to just form now trailed down his cheeks in cold, traitorous paths. Feeling compelled to speak he dipped his head to where her ear was so she could hear him above the raging storm outside.

"I have failed you."

Next chapter will be longer.

Luv,

K