Shielded - The Marilla Chronicles

Chapter 15

I followed after Malaki feeling like a bird without feathers.

He led me back into his bedroom and began to dig through his cupboards.

I stood awkwardly in silence and wondered when was the last time I had slept out of the ocean. Once Isaac had informed me, I can breathe under water I had spent nearly an entire week down there. And Once I experienced sleeping in the calming waves, I had never been fond of my bed.

A dark sweeter hit my face, and I immediately got a decent riff of Malaki. I pulled it off my face and saw the soft material. He threw me with a pair of silk boxer shorts next. I looked at the clothes and clicked my tongue at him.

"I am not going to wear your clothes." I stated coldly.

His lips curved up at me, "That is fine," He hands slid into his pockets, "the idea of you sleeping naked in here might keep me up though."

It was this or nothing. I let out a sigh of defeat and walked over to the bed where I put the clothes down. I gripped onto the towel, but looked back at Malaki. "Turn." I ordered.

His face brightened into something playful, but he slowly turned around and put his hands up like a white flag.

I turned my back to him, and slowly dropped the towel. Very swiftly I pulled his shorts up my legs, and threw over his sweater shirt. It smelt like him. It was difficult to describe how he smelt, like a cold winters night, or the first flake of snow.

I let out a fake cough to let him know I was done, and watched him slowly turn back to me.

His eyes fell on my body that was now covered in his clothes. His eyes seemed to flare with something that I could only describe as desire. I briefly admired him too, and wondered what it would feel like, to touch him, or for him to touch me.

I shook my head; he is a fucken war criminal Marilla.

I heard him swallow, and his he adjusted his posture.

He met my eyes, and his face looked calmer, collected again. "I saw that mark on your back." He said cutting the tension. "Not now, but this morning." He quickly added, with a hint of clumsiness in his words.

He stepped towards me and I fought back any thoughts of him again, "Can I see it better?" He asked gesturing with his fingers for me to turn and show him.

I don't know, but I wanted him to see it. I was proud of my mark.

I turned my back to him and pulled my shirt up slightly, exposing only the bottom part of my mark. His hand pulled the rest up though, and soon the entire mark was now exposed for his eyes.

I felt his fingers traced those silver vines that trailed up my spine, and instantly those goosebumps broke over my skin again. He either didn't notice or chose not to comment, either one I was grateful for. He continued tracing up my spine with his finger, the act was so gentle, and his touch was causing my breath to calm.

"The mark of Triton." He whispered.

I dropped my shirt and spun to face him. Why would he say that? What does he mean?

His eyes widened and, in a flash, he had me in a cupboard.