Sapphire Spells

Chapter 17 - Nine of Swords (reversed)

I stare at Alaric, jaw slack and frankly a little frightened.

The way he looks at me, eyes hooded and dark, makes my chest tighten. His stance is relaxed yet domineering. I do not know how he perfected that balance, a composed danger.

"What?" My voice wavers.

"Since I am expected to be your bodyguard, I would like to know how my team holds up with a challenge. I'm going to run off with you, and they will need to find us and get you away from me."

I feel the blood drain from my face. He can not be serious, though the fact that he is standing before me and telling me this is proof otherwise.

"I don't know about this." I take a tentative step back, suddenly highly uncomfortable by his proximity.

"C'mon, it will be fun." He strides towards me through the water.

I don't respond in time to move away before a large hand finds the small of my back, keeping me from fleeing. I am about to twist out of his touch, but his proposal of this game has me too stunned.

His lips curve up as though enjoying the discomfort all of this is causing me.

"Scream for me." His voice rumbles low through his chest, and my face grows unbearably hot.

He is serious.

Honey eyes finally lift from mine, and I can barely breathe as he scans our surroundings.

"Time to go." He quickly snaps into action.

My vision blurs as I am hauled out of the water.

I scream.

Without hesitation, I am grabbed and thrown over a shoulder as though I am nothing more than a bag of potatoes. My hands fly out, gripping his shoulder blades for support so that my face doesn't slap itself across his back.

"Alaric! Put me down!" I yell, caught between wanting to knee him in the face and being afraid of being dropped while the guy races through the wooded terrain around the lake.

It's hard to breathe, and being jostled by his running is disorienting. I dig my nails into his shoulder, hard.

He hisses.

My world tilts again, and my bare feet finally land on solid ground.

Still panting, as if I was the one who had sprinted with him thrown over my shoulder, I try to suck in a deep breath of air to calm myself.

He glances to his shoulder, taking in the red marks left in his flesh.

Honey eyes turn to me. "I didn't give you permission to scratch me." His tone is deceptively soft.

"I didn't give you permission to touch me at all," I reply.

My body feels feverish, all of it having to do with the rage growing inside of me. Who the hell does he think he is? This is taking control and disrespect to a whole new level. I did not sign up for his games. I want nothing to do with this nightmare he thinks is a great training exercise.

His lip curves at the side. "Alright, Emma. Stay here. Stay quiet. And I won't touch you."

Again, he is telling me what to do.

My eyes narrow. "I think the stick up your butt that's given you a lobotomy, unfortunately, has scrambled the part of your brain required for common sense."

He takes a single step in my direction. The movement is a threat. "If you don't listen, then I will take it as permission to touch you." He leaves no room for opposition. "One way or another, you will behave."