Right
Author's Note: Originally published on November 28, 2008
No one had the right to hurt her. No one was allowed to harm the sweet, beautiful, intelligent girl he held in his arms. She had been tortured, yet she remained strong for them. He wanted revenge on the one who had assailed her with curse after agonizing curse. He wanted to wash away the glass and blood which marred her delicate features, and cleanse her of the taint of evil which sullied her innocence. Most of all, he wanted to see that sparkle in her eyes which conveyed her fierce passion, and the rare smile which lit up her face and blinded him with its radiance.
He couldn't stop shivering as he clutched her cold, limp body to him. Perhaps it was caused by the intense range of emotions he had just endured, from the undeniable fear of her seemingly doomed fate, to the acute physical pain of hearing her screams, followed by the all-consuming rage at seeing her vulnerable in the hands of those monsters, and finally, the unadulterated joy of saving her from certain death. Perhaps it may have simply been his body reacting to the sudden change of leaving a hot, stifling manor room and arriving on a rocky cliff top enveloped by cool, salt-tinged sea air.
He looked down at her pale face as the breeze caused wisps of her hair to float gently around her. He knew then that he loved her. He would have broken if she hadn't survived the ordeal. She stirred and weakly threw her arms around his neck, holding him close. His shivering subsided as he hugged her tightly. Things between them were finally right.