It seems like an eternity that I've been outside my room, seen Sage, taken in fresh air.
I am pacing across the hard wood floor, always stopping at the window for what seems like a minute or five, and retreating back into the room the second I see another glimpse of a fey, even far in the distance. I want to go outside the room, but I feel it would be unwise, and somewhere inside I still fear Rowan's revenge.
I feel my magic throbbing in my hands, aching to be used in any way possible. My bare feet slap against the cold floor, and I angrily retreat from the window once more, towards my wardrobe to find a pair of socks or warm boots. I pull a pair of tall socks on over my black leggings and pull on a pair of sparkling white legwarmers up to my knees, before sliding on my soft black fur-lined leather knee-high boots and lacing the comfortable slipper-feeling shoe up the side. I wear a too- big dark grey sweater that I'm pretty sure was Sage's, for it is nearly ten sizes too big, but I am warm and stylish enough for the winter court in this human-like garb, so I pick what I wish from my vast amount of new clothing, and normally I am acceptable.
My laces have only just been tied when my bedroom door flies open, and I stand up quickly, holding back from letting out a sharp scream. I see Rowan's smirk and instantly, I duck for my nightstand which has a rusty iron dagger upon it, still stained with my own blood. He grabs me, right as my left hand closes around the hilt, and whirls me around to face him, forcing me to drop my blade.
Rowan holds my wrists tightly in front of me, wrestling to keep me from attacking him. He holds me so tightly and so close to his chest, I can feel his cold breath on my forehead, making me shiver, despite my warm clothing. "You cunning fox," he hisses, disgustedly. "Hiding behind my own brother. How long did you really expect plan to work in your favor?"
I am silent, trying to pull my limbs free, trying not to let my fear overpower me, trying to gather my winter magic for an attack.
"What?" Rowan mocks me. "Now you're too shy to talk? Now you won't say anything?" I hear an anger in his voice as he talks. I am leading my quiet struggle. "Speak," he spits at me. I am still quiet as my body stops moving and I stop resisting. The magic bubbles in my fingertips. "Speak!" he yells, over and over, I'm not sure how many times.
And I let the magic go with a gasp, pushing Rowan backwards with an unknown force, getting my hands free, looking up to his eyes as he angrily glares at me. The magic surges in me, making me confident and cautious. "Leave," I tell him, not daring to say anymore.
"Excuse me?" he snaps.
"Leave!" I yell at him, knowing I've crossed the line. He's proclaimed royalty. He could have my head for raising my voice to him.
Rowan steps closer to me and we are maybe a half a foot apart. He seems to be restraining himself, for his hands well into tight fists. "You would do well to remember your place," he hisses, moving to grab my wrist, but I pull it away before he can reach.
"Leave," I say again, even toned, magic pounding like adrenaline through my veins.
He takes a step back and turns towards the door. I let out a breath, unsure of whether it's relief or fear.
And suddenly he twirls around, decking me left in the eye, sending me falling to the floor from the sheer force of the blow. He pulls my head up by my hair and is holding something sharp at my throat: my iron dagger. My eye throbs, my neck sears in pain. All I can see is his diamond eyes glaring right into mine as I gasp for breath.
"You are mine, Aewood," he barks at me.
In anger, I slide push myself out of his hold, neglecting the dagger. It slices a deep line through Sage's sweater from my collarbone to my left shoulder and I can't help but scream loudly, letting out a gasp of pain. I manage to punch Rowan in the ribcage, and I hear a sickening crunch. I don't know if I broke my hand or dented his ribs. I battle through the almost incapacitating pain, though. Magic barrels out of me, pushing Rowan back towards the door before we both collapse on the ground, tired of fighting.
Rowan glares at me, breathing heavily, not willing to admit defeat. I feel the iron dizzying me, making me weak. I feel my magic surging to fix the poisonous wound, neglecting my defense against Rowan. I am gasping for breath, my body bruised, torn, and crushed. I feel like I'm choking, like I'm drowning, like I'm throbbing, like I'm slowly going to die here. While Rowan watches.
"I hate you," I breath in between gasps for air. I feel a sticky coating of blood and sweat over my body, especially around my shoulder.
Rowan smirks through his pain, but rises to his feet slowly. I can't do the same. My head can barely even lift up high enough to watch his legs as he limps to the door. I see it slam closed behind him, I hear it locking into place.
My hands and knees give out under me as I topple to the ground. I can see my blood pooling on the wooden floor from my iron wound, but I can do nothing to stop it. I can't even move to find Sage or call for help. I feel so alone and ruined and defenseless, however hard I fought Rowan tonight, he still walked away from the fight when I couldn't even get up. Rowan's words ring in my memory, and when my vision fails and my eyes are glued shut, I can only see his lips in a pained smirk.
'You are mine.'