Magic Under Darkness

Claim On The Soul

 CHAPTER ELEVEN

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CLAIM ON THE SOUL

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'my mark might not be seen, but it would expand over your soul.'

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In the intimate hush of their shared space, the only sound that dared to break through was the relentless drumming of rain against the windowpanes. It echoed the unspoken tension between them, a familiar chill settling in the air like an unwelcome guest. Alex's hands moved methodically, applying soothing cream to wounds that stubbornly refused to cease their trickles of blood. Yet, despite the palpable discomfort, there was a strange comfort in their silent exchange.

A flicker of relief danced across Alex's features as he surveyed his handiwork, noting with satisfaction the dwindling patches of unattended skin on his Alpha's back. Concern etched lines of worry into his brow as he observed Celeste's bare shoulders, a slight tremor betraying her otherwise composed facade. "Celeste, are you cold?" he ventured softly, his voice laced with genuine worry. "You're shaking."

It was an anomaly, to say the least.

Alphas were renowned for their innate warmth, capable of weathering even the bitterest of cold spells without a shiver. Yet here was Celeste, her form quivering despite the thick cloak of chill that enveloped them. It was an unsettling sight, one that defied the natural order of things. Perhaps, Alex reasoned, it was the wounds that plagued her, sapping her strength and leaving her vulnerable to the biting cold. Whatever the cause, concern gnawed at his insides, refusing to be quelled.

With a subtle shake of her head and eyes tightly closed, Celeste dismissed the notion that the cold was the source of her trembling. Alex couldn't help but wonder if she was shielding him from concern, masking her discomfort to spare him worry. Perhaps, behind closed lids, she harbored secrets she wasn't yet ready to share, her silence a shield against the weight of his apprehension.

Concern for his Alpha's well-being spurred Alex into action, prompting him to set aside the pot of cream to prevent any further risk of illness. With nimble fingers, he reached for the pristine white tissues, meticulously cleansing away the traces of blood that marred his skin, inadvertently smearing his fingertips with crimson in the process.

Once his hands were free of the telltale stains, he shed his protective black hoodie, revealing the stark contrast of his white half-sleeved shirt underneath. Despite the chill that now nipped at his exposed skin, Alex paid it little heed, his focus consumed by the singular desire to tend to Celeste, his own comfort a secondary concern in comparison to her well-being.

Acknowledging the vast disparity in size between himself and the broader, taller Alpha, Alex entertained the idea that Celeste could at least use his hoodie to shield herself from the biting cold, even if it wouldn't fit her snugly.

Alex couldn't shake the notion that it might provide some modicum of warmth, perhaps if she held it close or draped it across her front. "Celeste, I know this won't..." His words were cut short as he felt himself forcefully pinned against the unyielding cement wall. The impact was jarring, stealing the air from his lungs and prompting an involuntary yelp to escape into the chilly atmosphere that enveloped them.

Agonizing pain surged through his spine, a sharp reminder of his vulnerability. But such discomfort paled in comparison to the alarming sight before him. With a strength that belied her delicate frame, Celeste had seized his wrists, wrenching them above his head in a vice-like hold. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her complexion drained of its usual warmth, leaving behind a ghostly pallor that crept from her face down to her neck, then further still until her fingers, once firmly clasped around his wrists, now bore an unsettling pallid hue.