Silver Chains

Chapter Three

Hermione

The glass of water I'm holding slips out of my fingers as I gape at Draco Malfoy standing shirtless in front of me, his eyes wide as he stares back. The first thing I notice is that he's massive. He towers over me by at least a foot and his shoulders are of a herculean size. Not to mention the absurd amount of muscles that aid to his stature, making him look like one of those ancient Greek statues was given breath and the ability to walk around on entirely too silent feet. I squeak, backing up until I'm pressed up against the countertop at my back. Unfortunately I don't notice that I step in the shattered glass because I'm too busy staring at the tattoos covering him from shoulders to wrist, the designs swirling in black ink across his scarred chest and disappearing in the low slung black pants he's wearing.

"Are you done fucking staring?" he drawls, stepping towards me, glancing down at the glass at my feet. I follow his gaze, sucking in a breath as I finally feel the little stabs of pain.

"Oh, goddammit!" I screech, moving to step out of the mess but he's quicker. His hands clamp down around my waist and then he's lifting me to sit on the island beside us. Before I can even suck enough air into my lungs to scream, he's commanding me not to.

"I'm not going to hurt you, calm down," his voice is not as icy as his original greeting, but he turns around with an aggravated huff of air before grabbing a towel and mopping up the water and glass, tossing it into a bin in the cupboard below me. "Let me see." He taps my calf, and I flinch, shying away from him now that I have some sort of bearings about me. Noticing this, he immediately steps away, giving me space.

Odd.

"Would you rather I do it, or would you like to do it yourself? I can also-"

"It's fine," I snap. He watches me with wariness darkening his eyes.

"Here," he flips open another cupboard and withdraws a first aid kit, which he gently hands to me. Taking it, I toss it open and begin to cross my leg but gasp as a burning pain flares through my side. I clamp my eyes shut, breathing away the rush of nausea threatening to overwhelm me. "Can I help you?"

"Why?" I grit out. I'm fairly positive he chuckles and I open one eye, trying my best to glare at him.

"Because you're injured," he waits until I nod before kneeling in front of me and gently taking my small foot in his massive hands. I hand him the medical tweezers and an alcohol wipe, hissing as he extracts the glass and wipes at the superficial cuts. "What do you remember?"

"People killed the guys."

"That's all?"

I struggle to recall anything else, glancing around the pristine space, but shake my head at him when I notice he's waiting for an answer.

"Okay, well when I'm done with this, if you can walk, you can take a shower and then we will fill you in and figure out what to do with you," he switches to my other foot and I try my hardest to create tears at his words.

"Don't send me back, please, Malfoy," I beg, my voice sounding weak. All a ruse, obviously. Maybe he won't sell me if I act like I'm damaged goods.

He glances up at me, seemingly startled as he lets go of my foot, "What, why would we send you back to them?"

"Because you hate me, I'm sorry, I don't know why I deserve this but you can do whatever you want to me just don't send me back," I cry.

Malfoy's jaw clenches as he stands up and I have the bone chilling realization that I should probably be more afraid of this man, just based on size and the cold look on his face alone. My begging isn't going to help me, he probably bought me and killed them all for fun. I'd heard whispers of him, whispers of how violent he is in order to keep control of the city. Of course, being a whore didn't come with much clearance for information. I open my mouth to plead again, even futilely but he cuts me off with a haughty laugh.