A Love From A Different World

Chapter 40

Celeaena looked him up and down, noting the muscled packed body, and tilted her head to the side. "If I had lower standards, I might just consider you."

Cassian ignored her comment, used to her by then, and pointed to his stomach. "Got this from one of my first battles a couple of centuries ago. Six-inch serrated hunting knife, curved on the tip. Rutting prick got me here"—he pointed to the top, then dragged his finger down—"and sliced south."

Celaena whistled. "Shit," she said. "How the hell are you still breathing?"

"Luck—and I was able to move as he dragged it down, keeping him from gutting me. At least I learned the value of shielding after that."

"Well, if we're going to exchange war stories, I need more wine." She frowned at her empty glass and said, "A lot more wine."

Her frown instantly transformed when Rhys used his magic to conjure up bottles of alcohol. She didn't look relatively surprised but instead took a wine bottle for herself and simply drank from it, forgoing her glass.

After drinking a couple of mouthfuls, Celaena pushed her sleeve back and showed him a jagged scar by her elbow. "I received this when I trashed Skull's -" She stopped short and pursed her lips.

Cassian looked at her under his eyelids. "Something you can't tell me?"

She gave him a sinister smile. "We all have secrets."

He was sure she did. And a lot of them too. He realized that when she continuously gave half-truths for almost all of her stories about her scars. It seemed that even alcohol could not lower her guard.

Five bottles later and Celaena was still pointing at new scars. Scars that Cassian had never imagined she might have. He had only seen her scars once, the first time he had seen her. Of course, he hadn't exactly analyzed them when panic had ensued at their naked intruder. The next morning she had been dressed in a frilly little nightgown that put them on display. And though Cassian was able to note that the girl was almost completely covered in them, he was more interested on more pressing matters. Like how the hell she had taken him down in a matter of seconds.

And so when Cealean revealed most of them with backstories that were most likely not the whole truth, Cassian was still interesting in her stories. And with each passing one, the general was liking the human more and more. Because like him, the girl was a fighter, a soldier, a survivor.

Slouching comfortable, Celaena revealed a ring of thin scars around her neck

"This precious gem I honorably received when I killed Ba-" Again she stopped and reworded it. "A creature. She tried to kill me but I overpowered her. I cut off her head, then cut her corpse into little bits, then shoved it all into her oven." Celeana smiled at the memory.

"Mother's tits." Cassian's typical slogan was said by Mor, bottle in hand. Celaena and he had been so immersed in their stories that Illyrian had forgotten that the rest of his family were present too.

Cassian made eye contact with Rhys and knew he too was thinking the same thing. How the hell had she gotten something like that? Unless she had been decapitated and then resurrected-

As if reading his mind, Celaena said, "Don't feel bad, most of these I rightly deserved." She showed him a small scar down the inside of her forearm. "See that one? A man in a tavern sliced me open with a bottle after I cheated him in a round of cards and tried to steal his money."

Cassian wasn't the only one to snort.

"Did they hurt?" Came the soft voice of Azriel. His brother had a look in his eyes, a look that Cassian had rarely ever seen. One that promised death.

"Like a bitch." The human girl took another mouthful of wine. "But not anymore. Not this one, at least."

"What about that one?" Murmured Rhysand. It was perhaps the first time he had spoken since they started telling their stories. Like Azriel, Rhysand's eyes were clouded in lethal rage. His anger was so tremendous that Cassian could smell it on him. "The ones on your wrists."

Celeana's eyes glazed over and her carefree nature subsided as she glanced down at the scars surrounding her wrists. "That's perhaps a story for another time."

Cassian wanted to know. About the ones on her wrist which resembled shackles, about the massive ones on her back which he had only gotten one glimpse of. But he knew that Celaena was down for the night. It was a surprise in itself that she had trusted them enough to tell them about some of them. He would not push her.

At least, not tonight.