§
She opened her eyes, and all that greeted her was stones and candlelight. Soft, wide, amber eyes blinked and re-focused.
"Awake finally, huh?" A voice issued from the shadows. It was scratchy, hazed, and frightening.
She shrunk away, only to find shackles on her wrists and ankles. Fear dilated her pupils.
"W-what's going on?" Her small, bell-like tone questioned.
The man faced her now, a pallet of darks and shadows in the dim light. It seemed like he may have been a handsome man once ago, but something—perhaps life, had stolen his looks with haggard lines and intelligent, cruel eyes. His well-shaped lips twisted into some sort of wretched smile.
"You have become mine." Her captor replied, taking deliberate steps forward.
The small figure gazed up, terrified. "N-no! I have a mommy and a daddy! What have you done with them? Mommy! Daddy! Help me please!"
The man raised his palm and an audible snap rang in the silent aftershock. The child's eyes filled with tears, and her petite fingers stroked the now-bleeding area of her cheek where he had hit her. Roughly, the taller individual bent down to tilt her face toward him.
"You are mine now. You have no name, no family, no soul. You are mine."
Her ebony locks churned fiercely as tear speckled out of her innocent eyes.
"You're wrong! I have a name, and a mommy and a daddy! My name is—" Smack, his fist had burned her to the floor this time.
Her captor bent down and hulled into a sitting position by her small shoulder, using the other hand to force her tear-ridden face to gaze into his own darkly attractive one.
"You'll forget them soon enough because you never had them. You are mine, little one. My weapon."
Dropping her shoulder, the man jabbed her side with a long needle. The girl's body stiffened, her pupils widened and eyes hazed, face registering shock. And then she fell limp into the hands of the stranger. He brought his mouth beside her ear.
"Forever."
§
There was pain. It wasn't the feel of being quartered or having your love walk away. It was both and more. It wasn't a toxin, it was a manipulator. She knew pain—no senses, no thoughts, no self. Worse yet, it didn't release her into numbness after a time as most extremities will. Instead, it fluctuated parts and degrees just so her nerves or heart or mind, whatever it was methodically torturing couldn't adjust to the brutality. There was no time, or space—no awareness of anything. It was the moon—pushing and pulling her ego. The pain wrought on her body would plunge it besides death's colorless gates, but the sadism of the concoction would always yank her back, wounding anew. It was physical, mental, and emotional; or perhaps only one to the extreme that it had to over-pour onto the others. Too aid to the severity of torment, there was such small experience in dealing with pain to the subject.
Life gives pain and an individual doesn't know what to do with it. But slowly, we begin to receive, manipulate, and release our suffering. Sometimes we won't heal from a blade, but we learn rather to live around it. Adaptation, the ability to press forward, is our great strength to face the cruelties of the world. Children have no notion of this because they are still being coddled from the world, and so the need to adapt has yet to manifest itself. Her conscious had no way to release of take on the hurt. It was all-consuming, and breaking. There was little chance she would awaken from the agony. There was no way that she would awake the same.
§
She did awake, though it couldn't be decided if it was fortunately or unfortunately. The pain was dormant, lingering in her cells and core as it felt, some remnant of a storm. The child shifted, able to move her body once ago. Amber eyes widened at the shackles and dim room that seemed an age ago.
"What happened?" The girl asked softly into the gray depths.
However he appeared to answer, from some place in the shadows. Her imagination decided that he was a monster of some kind that was a part of the darkness—it went with his black heart.
"So you survived; you are a special one." The monster spoke, eyes gleaming.
His hand stretched forward, and his victim shrunk away as far as the chains would allow, whimpering. However, he continued until his fingers were under chin, titling it up to inspect the cute, fearful features. He ran down her arms, leg, back, and stomach. Then he checked her pulse by the base of her neck. All the while his captive shivered and bit back tears at his touch. It wasn't provocative, but rather questioning. She was not a specimen for lust to him, but an item to be examined. Finishing his physical, a malicious smile spread upon his lips.
"Ah yes, you are the special one. We'll begin training tomorrow so your body doesn't undo itself and die out like the last one." He stood, dark hair falling momentarily over his pale face. Five steps and he was out the door, closing it behind him.
Training? The prisoner wondered, looking at her own hand for changes.
§
The next day he took away sight. In the cell, she found that there was no time—she had no sky or watch to tell it by, and no space—she was bound to one wall and had no means of exploring her prison. However there was a limited awareness in the human. It came from what she perceived from the gloomy depths, the feel of chains on her skin, the sound of his footsteps, and sometimes the far-off smell of fire.
That morning? Perhaps, he came in and suffocated the lone torch with his hand, not caring about the burn. The cell was now a total darkness, an unadjustable one. You see, most people believe that mortal eyes can adjust to complete darkness to see. However, the eye works by capturing light waves, and sending them up to the brain to be sorted into colors and shapes by the frequency. When there is truly no light, there is no vision.
The girl blinked rapidly, trying to see anything while she called out in slight desperation.
"S-stop that! I know you're here!"
There was no reply, and a pregnant pause filled the room that was asphyxiating in the black silence. And then a bare sound that resounded loud in the nothingness—a step and a swing.
She choked, not sure if she was blinded by pain, but feeling the warm liquid seep down her back and the wound grow from its place. He stepped closer, putting his hand in the hole and yanking the weapon out. The child retched dry from pain.
"You'll live." His cold voice stated simply, and repeated the action.
Hazel eyes were widened, pupils dilated, and filled with tears. Drops of water and blood descended somewhere to the floor. Unless the stranger had broken gravity too; who knew?
Again and again in this timeless world he repeated the action. However when she began to become numb from blood loss, he changed weapons. The other one had sliced the skin. This one merely beat upon it, going straight through to the bones. As he beat the child, a few cracks punctured the air and her cries were stifled from lack of air. And then, without pretense, his steps retreated and the door shut. She collapsed in a heap of blood.
§
He came and went a handful of times. Always the same, torturing her until she was sure she would die, then retreating and leaving her to the minor shock that somehow she continually drew breath and heart beat. However as he progressed, the girl became less resistant and weaker from more then loss of blood and agony—hunger.
He stepped through the doorway again without ceremony, only her sensitive ears picked it up. Something warm and slick was thrown at her, splattering a liquid into her face. She blinked it away, using careful hands to wipe it from her face.
"It's food." The torturer said with almost carelessness.
The child set about it with a fierceness. She tore and ate the strange item, feeling the sweet, almost metallic, liquid burn down her throat and the salty flesh rip open between her needy teeth and claws. He waited for some reason, until she was done. And then he laughed, and the hostage was afraid again.
"Now you really are my monster." Once the maddening fit had passed, gloating in his voice.
The prisoner made no sound, but he felt the need to satisfy her silent curiosity.
"That thing you ate... was a human."
He left and her eyes went wide and she vomited.
No! No! I'm not a monster! That wasn't a person, it couldn't be! People don't eat people!
What if it was mommy or daddy? What if it was someone nice?
There was a banshee like screech in his wake.
§
More time had passed... or had it? The girl didn't keep track anymore. There was a point, though, that she realized her voice had not been used in a while.
I wonder if monsters can still talk?
Five steps announced her keeper and the jingle of the weapon in his hand.
"I love them." Her voice was small and throaty from lack of use.
He paused.
"Mommy and daddy... I can't remember their faces all the time, but I know I love them." There was a level of defiance in her whisper now.
The man's aura filled the air like a volcano.
"Shut up you little wretch!" He howled finally, running at her and digging whatever was in his hand through her little body again and again.
"You're one of them! You don't love your parents! You don't deserve to have parents! You are my weapon!"
His screaming, her blood, and the empty space was filled over. And then the male stopped, panting for breath and sneering at the broken body on the floor. He walked out, calling once back.
"I'm not sure you'll live through that one."
§
She saw the gray gates again, and felt them pull her towards them. Slowly, but surely, the tall spires opened up for her. The river she was floating on drained of color as she passed through, allowing the current to drive her towards death. Once past, she felt a level of release and calmness. It was over.
And then something happened. A thin thread of color wound around her wrist, pulling her away from the current and holding her from going deeper into death.
Let me die. She begged it miserably. Please just let me die.
But the cord could not or would not obey. Instead it tensed and pulled her harder through the water, like a fish on a reel. Unable to fight, the spirit watched with filling dread as the string brought her closer to the wonderful, artsy gates she had passed through. And then in a burst of sparks and lights, it reopened the spiraling beaks and abstract bottoms. She went through the gate, back from death.
There was no release.
§
Pain became feeling. It was a remnant of humanity that she clung to. Defiance spouted from captivity. The hostage could not be released. If death would not free her no one would. However, she could give her keeper a hell of a time. That was all she could find left for her purpose. That was all there was.
Memories were faded into vague things, and sleep was no longer needed. Time never existed and there only was.
The first time he brought her a person to kill, she refused. He broke her bones and ripped her skin, and even hung her to a wall and stretched out her muscles and tendons past the limit. The girl cried out, but refused to kill them. So the man released her in the cell with them, and waited until she grew hungry.
Hardly human, the creature still refused to kill. She was black, but not that black. Murder would make her unredeemable. However the human in her cell did not seem to feel the same way. After nearly two weeks without food, the being crawled forward and proceeded to try and kill her. Indignant and hurt by her lone companions gesture, the captive killed him. That day she discovered two new things.
Killing could be a thrill; it could cause feeling too. Humans are selfish creatures, and there was no remorse in killing them.
Her diet was soon consisting of living prisoners who were too blind to see the predator chained to a wall.
§
"Why?" Most of the time defiance was conveyed in the unwillingness to cry out against the atrocities committed on her.
However as another needle went into her side, she found a raspy sort of voice was still in her. The man and her knew each other in madness, and so he answered.
"I need a weapon. There is no use for a weak tool."
Whatever was pumped in her began to turn her blood. However other toxins had been pumped into her before. The prisoner ignored it.
"Why?" She found that repeating the same word made talking easier.
The creature also found that sight was unnecessary. She could feel his aura now, read his emotions and signs with some sixth sense. Like now, the captive knew her antagonist was grinning.
"To kill someone."
"I kill already." The last part came with a growl.
"My son... You will kill my son."
§
There had been no gender, no thought, no humanity before he came. He wasn't the one who tortured her daily, nor was he a fearful prey. This creature was quiet, bold.
"Shit, where did he came them? I have to find the antidote or else Daemon will—" The human stopped, apparently aware of the blood-thirsty glare even in the darkness.The chained life gave a growl. However, instead of running in a panic, this mortal stood still before walking cautiously toward the noise. The growl became louder, hungrier. Soon she could reach his flesh and...
There was light. The weapon screeched in agony at the thing that flickered on. Water ran from the eyes from the blinding pain. Quickly as it came, the burning light went out. Now the beast was angry, pulsating at her bindings to rip the throat out of whatever had done that to her. However the horrible man was still out of her reach.
"He's done it again... that bastard." The stranger spoke with quiet anger. "Don't worry, I'll come back for you. I promise."
It snarled in response, still trying to claw out at him. The human simply crept out through her door, taking the five steps and then vanishing.
§
The next time he came it was right after a kill. Fresh bodies and blood lined the floor. The creature could feel his disgust. Turning up from the meal, the predator snarled at this fragile little man who didn't fear her.
"You shouldn't kill people to eat, you know." His voice was softer, lighter than the other man's.
"Next time I'll bring you food, okay." He stepped closer to the thing, causing it to lunge out in attack.
The shackles tightened and strained, but held tight and it collapsed at the floor, missing barely.
The stranger paused. "You're not used to me yet. Then I'll stay until you are."
And so the two sat in the cell among dead bodies for a time. Then the strange human slipped through her door again.
§
The visitor must have known when her keeper came and went, for he always came safely after and left safely before. He did not approach, but rather sat in the cell and spoke words it could hardly understand. Slowly though, it stopped growling and snarling every time. And when the man brought different food then it had before, throwing it over to the wall; it ate. As some unspoken treaty, the weapon stopped killing the humans brought into the cell. The torturer never knew though; because the stranger would let them out before he came.
The beast hardly knew why it was doing this instead of killing. But its curiosity fed off the change of pace. After all, life had been so monotonous before then, so why not?
§
At one time, the visitor stepped toward the killer. It had been beaten worse then usual, and movement was very restricted. In response to his approach, the animal gave a faint growl and shrunk back. He continued forward, with some tinge to his aura the creature didn't recognize.
"You were human once, weren't you?" The voice seemed to know for itself.
"He did this to you. But it's alright—I can heal it. Just... don't be afraid."
The thing's knowledge of the words was vague, but the tone was soothing and so as his warm hand touched down, only a faint hiss was heard. However he did remove the pain with something sticky on his fingers.
"When you're ready, I'll set you free." He whispered.
§
Things were coming back to the monster, slowly. Words... thoughts... the became more comprehensible.
"Why?" It was a hiss of a voice, hardly passing for speech.
But the visitor understood, he stopped his work on the wounds in amazement.
"You can still talk?"
"Yes," It answered in the same half-voice.
The man was smiling, it knew. " Well then, I guess I should answer. I'm doing this because the person who did this to you also experimented on my brother. He was a failed experiment though, so it wasn't this bad... I thought he would stop or else I would have come sooner."
Another thing strange to the murderer was the aura of this human. So many spectrums it could not understand.
"W-who?" A little blood issued from the parched lips at that word.
"Easy, you'll do more damage." The stranger felt the throat for wounding as he replied.
"I am Blayne."
§
"Blayne," It asked one time, much better at speech then before. "What am I?"
The man was eating with the monster, sitting beside it without a tinge of fear. Another unidentifiable fluctuation of his aura occurred. There was no name the predator could put on them, but they were become regular enough to recognize.
"You were human once, and I think you can be human again."
The creature stayed silent for a while, tearing at the thing he called 'bird'.
"I ate humans. I killed. He says that I am a tool."
Blayne was quiet for a moment.
"Don't believe everything that bastard says." His voice was quiet, but angry. "You are more human than he will ever be."
The captive stayed quiet a moment longer, trying to decipher the words.
"I want out."
It could feel the man turn toward her, studying her without sight.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes." The weapon replied. "I want out."
Blayne stood. "Tomorrow then. When I come, we will escape."
§
The first thing to do was get rid of the shackles. To save time, Blayne merely severed the chains from the wall.
"We'll get them off you later." He promised.
He put something around her eyes, though it didn't change anything in the darkness.
"That will protect your vision from light. You'll have to wear it until your eyes adjust."
The prisoner didn't complain.
He looped something around it's neck.
"This will help me guide you. Just follow the pull."
The predator complied, and felt a wonderful release as it took the five steps and went through the door. The going was noiseless and slow, and the monster knew they were avoiding the other man. Suddenly, Blayne stiffened. There were noises.
"What is that?" It was the cold voice of the keeper.
"RUN!" Her rescuer commanded, pulling on the chord.
Obeying, the weapon sprinted beside the other man, hearing her torturer follow after them. There was only running and following the sway of the leash through the passages until suddenly the ground below was no longer hard and smooth, but wet, prickly, and uneven. It crackled under feet and strange calls could be heard in the air. The only thing keeping the new animal from hurtling away at the newness was the secure collar, keeping her tied to the familiar. They didn't stop running for a while. When they did, he almost fell to the ground, panting.
"Blayne," The killer had heard humans die like that in her cell.
However this one stood back up and gave a laugh. "You're free now! Come on, I'll lead you home."
§
There was a washing, both physical and metaphorical. Blayne poured the warm water on and scrubbed at its body. Caked on blood and dirt rubbed off. He did pause at some time.
"What is wrong?" The newly rescued creature asked.
There was a level of hesitation. "I wasn't aware you were female, that is all."
He continued rubbing the brush and strange-smelling stuff onto the body.
"Neither was I." She replied.
Then there was the feeling of being reborn. It came nearly a week later, when she had become so agitated with the strange thing he called 'clothes' that she ripped off the blindfold. Her eyes had slowly adjusted to the light, but nothing could compare her for the world. She was in a cave, gray rocks with mossy green cracks. Walking further out, she saw great, tall things with brown legs and green tops. Upwards the world was a pale blue with white speckles, downward it was dark brown with scatterings of green. Strange creatures of black and red with talons and feathers flitted around, making light noise.
"Hey!" A familiar voice said suddenly, feet trampling toward her in what she know recognized as worry.
It was Blayne, she knew that voice. But she had never seen the man before. He was taller then her, with hair the color of dried blood reaching his nape. Long bangs overlapped his face. The skin was a warm, golden color and intelligent, sensitive eyes of dark olive. The frame was lean muscle, capable and fast.
"Are you alright? Why did you come—" His words faltered at the astounded look on her face.
"Everything is..." She searched her limited vocabulary for a word. "Pretty. That is pretty, and those are pretty, and you are pretty." She used her fingers to point at each object.
He laughed a little. "That is the sky, and those are trees. Me, I'm just me."
§
"My brother's body was broken by the torture. Your's survived somehow. To save him, I put his spirit and mind another body. So now Daemon lives with the wolves."
The girl nodded, hazel eyes taking in her surroundings as they always did.
"What's a wolf?"
Blayne smiled at her. "You'll see soon another. I think one of the things he gave you was werewolf poison, so you might end up going out with them at times."
She turned her head to him, blinking in confusion. "Werewolf poison?"
"I'll tell you later. We're here." The brunette stated, waving his hand for the small pack of creatures.
They were sleek of colored in silvers, browns, and tawny. Sharp teeth and claws along with speedy muscle gave away their carnivorous state. But wise, gold and blue eyes looked up at the newcomer, seemingly to decide if she was worthy. One of the wolves patted up to the man, rubbing against his leg. He was smaller and white.
"Daemon, this is the person I rescued. She is going to live with us." The little wolf nodded before turning to her and nearly grinning with his fangs.
"Hello, who are you?"
The newly-freed creature of course, did not know wolves were not supposed to talk.
"You are Blayne's brother then. Hello."
The little wolf turned his eyes back onto his brother. "She's strange."
"She was rescued, like you." The elder corrected. "She has very little memories."
The supposed leader of the pack, a large gray wolf with wise amber eyes, growled something out.
"What do you mean I smell funny?" The girl inquired after the bark.
Olive eyes turned to her incredulously. "You understood him?"
"You don't?" The rescued replied.
The man nodded. "Yes, but I am an animagus. Normal people do not understand wolves."
"Perhaps I am an animagus then." The black-haired woman said calmly.
"Well do you know your name?" Daemon asked, cocking his furrowed head so fiercely blue eyes gazed at her.
Hazel eyes filled with thought. "I remember two names... Ally and Ann... but I don't know if they are mine."
"I like Ally better, so let's call you that." The young pup stated plainly, flitting between her legs.
"Astryian is right though, you do smell funny."
The lead wolf, dubbed Astryian, barked something out.
"I'll have to go with you all once a month. Why?" Ally asked, smiling from her new name.
"Werewolf blood. You probably didn't notice the changes due to the extent of mental torture. Don't worry though, Astryian will take care of you on those nights." Blayne soothed, seeing a wariness in her eyes.
"Do you trust him?" The black-haired female demanded.
Her rescuer nodded. "He's an animal so he's trustworthy, not like people."
The human nodded. "Then I do too."
§
The first time Ally saw herself it was when she had gone down to the water to bathe herself. The feeling of cleanliness was another joy, she discovered. However, the girl had jumped at the image staring back at her and had run back for Blayne. He had come and put all her worries at ease.
"Don't worry, it's just your reflection... It is what you look like."
The female looked hesitantly back into the lake, peering at the image staring back at her. It was a young woman with a lean face and sharp cheekbones. Large eyes the color of crinkled leaves gazed back under long, twisting locks of ebony hair. Unnaturally pale skin made her seem almost a phantom against the tan of the man beside her.
The wizard laughed as his friend pat her cheek and ran fingers through her hair.
"Do I look right?" The freed creature asked suddenly, turning to him. She had no one to judge by.
The handsome young man chuckled. "You look fine. In fact, for human standards you're quite beautiful."
"Me?" Ally blinked at the strange notion.
Blayne flicked a little water at her. "Yeah you."
Instinctively understanding the game, the hazel-eyed woman splashed him back.
"Well then so are you."
§
While the forest around her had time, Ally found herself not a part of it. Her life was learning and happiness, and time seemed to touch everything but her, as if to give her time to piece back together. She relearned many things—seasons, animals, fire, rain, mannerism, and interaction. She also discovered things no child could ever know—the feel of the night and wildness of freedom during the full moon, the difference between hunting and killing, companionship, beauty, life, and above all... love.
§
It happened one night, beside the campfire. The girl was sitting on a log, watching the fire cackle and move to some unknown flow.
"What are you thinking about?" The forest-man came and sat behind her, one arm loosely draping over her small shoulders.
Warm amber eyes tilted upward to look at his earthy, wise face. "I saw something in the village today."
"Oh, and what was that?"
"Dance."
Blayne blinked in surprise, his dark olive eyes capturing the fire-glow. "The gypsy dances?"
Ally nodded, a smile forming on her face. "It looked like fun."
The tawny-haired individual nodded, no longer looking at her but at the fire. "It can be."
Suddenly his companion was up from the log, and her slender hands were pulling at his arms to stand. "I want to try it."
At first, the hermit wizard seemed resistant. But at the look of charm and goading on her face, he too smiled and stood. Her hands found his golden arms and he held her side loosely.
"If only we had music." The woman of the woods hummed lightly.
Her partner smiled softer. "There is; it's the music of the night... Just listen."
Obeying, Ally closed her eyes and allowed her body to move to the sounds she heard; the falsetto of the nighthawk, bells of the wind through high canopies, dirge of the wolves, and markka of the fire. They swung, twisted, leaned back and wove between each other in some pattern to the night.
"How is your painting going?" Blayne asked, his body unnaturally tense.
Concern filled her eyes, but she chose to answer his question first. "Good, I sold the one with the trees in the market today."
"Good," His smooth voice had a crack in it as he caught her again.
"Blayne is there something wrong?" Her black hair swung in the darkness, eyes glowing like embers of a fire.
"Ally it's just that..." He sounded desperate, resistant, almost afraid.
The pale creature leaned toward his face for inspection. "What is—"
His lips cut off her question, warm breath tickling her senses. Suddenly the sound of the night was drowned out as if the entire world had decided to give them a moment of peace. He tasted like salt, hickory, and evergreen; and despite her initial shock resistance was not on her mind. As if regaining himself, Blayne stepped back, releasing her at an arm's length. His deep eyes were apologetic.
"Ally I'm so—" This time she cut him off with a brief, chase meeting of lips that had a smile.
"That was for before. I'm learning but I'm not stupid. I know what a kiss is."
The warlock's eyes were still uneasy. "But then you..."
The woman held up her hands "Yes, stupid, yes of course I love you."
§
"Daemon said he'd been spotted again." She stated simply as she walked into the house.
Olive eyes filled with anxiety. "You can't go after him."
Hazel eyes narrowed. "He tortured me."
"Ally..."
"He almost killed your brother,"
"Ally please..."
"And he'll come back for us. Blayne we can't be free until he is dead!"
"Ally, he'll kill you!" The brunette stood from his seat.
The pale girl refused to back down. "Not if I get him first."
"What will you achieve from his death? Have I not helped you gain everything back?" The forester demanded.
Hazel eyes softened and she reached a delicate hand to his cheek, making his eyes narrow but a hand come over-top of it.
"You are everything to me, my love." The young woman lowered her voice. "And I could not bare it if he ever did something to you. That is why I have to kill him. I'm afraid of loosing you... I couldn't live if that happened."
His fingers intertwined with her own and brought the hand level. "He is old and mad. There is little threat from his now. Let it go... I'm here."
But despite his allure, the crow haired individual removed her hand from his grasp.
"I'll be back soon." Her slender form turned and ran, leaving him with an outstretched hand.
The night soon swallowed her up.
§
Ally stuck a knife through the man at sight. However, as she looked closer, she saw something quite disturbing. Despite having the same scent, this man's aura was completely different then her antagonist's.
"Who are you?" The hunter demanded, removing her sword to reveal an old, quickly dying man.
"He... he threatened to kill me if I didn't dress in his clothes." The elderly human gurgled.
Something ill-boding filled her with dread as she picked up the man and forced him to look at her. "Where did he go."
"T-to... th—the h... house o...f w-wolves." The bald figure croaked out his last breath.
Her heart stopped.
§
"BLAYNE!" Ally ran through the forest like never before. She screamed like a banshee, not caring who or what heard her.
"BLAYNE!"
The house was being devoured by fire, smoking. She ran inside, not caring about the easy work with which the heat tarnished her fair skin. Her hazel eyes searched for his lithe form. Her eyes saw straight through the smoke to his body, leaning against a burning poll.
"Blayne," Ally whispered, running toward the forester.
His bronze skin was scorched and caramel hair smelling putridly from burn. But the dark glow of olive eyes opened at the call.
"Ally..." He murmured through cracked, bleeding lips.
"I'm so sorry, I should have listened and then none of this would have happened." She said in a rush, crying without realizing it.
The man shushed her, cupping her tear-stained face with a burning palm. "My love, I would ask you to take Daemon with you. You two will need each other in the world."
Hazel eyes widened. "Don't say that!"
She was a child again, begging for something. "Come on, let's get you out of here and—"
Blayne placed two fingers on her lips, sufficiently silencing her. The predator in her was all too aware of the smell of his blood. It was everywhere.
"Listen to me my Ally. I have loved you, and even when this body decays, I will still love you. But you are great and something above this petty world. If you forget even my name in time, remember this: You are meant for great deeds, my love, for the world has not yet taken you. So do not let this world have your heart—it is the only thing any of us can truly claim..."
Blood choked out after his words and green eyes went dull. The woman couldn't talk. Her throat had tightened and her spirit was jabbed with hot knives that froze her brain in pain. Keep her heart? It was breaking into sharp little pieces right now and cutting into sanity and life. Was it possible for her to still be breathing, living with all this pain? Did death have something against her that revoked her? Why could she not have followed him? Surely, heartbreak could kill. It hurt more than any other torture put on her.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
§
A/N: Wondering why this is randomly appearing now? It'll all be explained next chapter. But in the mean time, it would be great if you could leave a pm or REVIEW on some chapter you haven't. (2 and 1 have like 2 reviews each...) But it would be great if you guys could just do something for this chapter because it really was a work for me. (12 pages) Anyways, luv ya all!