Red's Demise

What's a Girl Have to Do For Some Sleep?

Red

My toes hit the final step, threatening to send me careening towards the floor. And I was, frankly, too tired to catch myself.

After leaving the wyvern shifter to his own devices, I had made the mile-long walk back in silence. My feet and legs regained feeling with every step. Unfortunate for me though, as they were still miserable, which made the trek back even more treacherous.

As I accepted my fate to fall face first onto the wooden floor, fingers wrapped around my arm and pulled me up. Suddenly, I was brought chest to chest as sharp green eyes burned into me. At the same time, warmth spread from where he held me, seeming to pool in my hurt hand.

"You've been gone awhile," Ezekiel grumbled, his voice gruff.

His hand remained holding my bicep, the grip almost tight.

When I remained silent, those green eyes took to searching me from head to toe, before shooting back up to my clenched fist at my side.

I hadn't even noticed I clenched it, but it seemed to lessen the pain. Though before, the tight hold caused more blood to flow, now however, I could've sworn I felt my skin pull together as more warmth encircled my hand.

A burning gaze suddenly held mine as Ezekiel leaned forward and not-so-subtly took a deep breath, seemingly breathing me in.

Gods, I could only imagine how badly I smelt.

I cringed, hating the dark look that flashed over the Master Assassin's face.

"Did the wyvern hurt you?" He asked in a gruff voice as his grip tightened on my arm.

I shook my head, confused as to where he got that idea. Until my brain finally decided to function and connected some dots.

Had he-?

Had he smelt Silas on me?

What in the seven Hells?

I really needed to figure out the extent of these males' powers. Continuously being blind-sided by magical powers wasn't exactly enjoyable.

Ezekiel's grip loosened, and he used his other hand to carefully lift up my hurt hand. "What happened then, Little Red?"

"I should ask you that," I countered. Which caused his brown brows to draw together in confusion.

"And why is that?" Those burning green eyes seemed to pierce into me. There was a reason Ezekiel was the Master Assassin of the Illyra Brotherhood. He had such a way of getting to people, intimidation or otherwise. Right now, feeling those observant eyes run over me, I understood why people trembled in his presence.

I wouldn't though.

I would never.

"He said-"

"He?" Ezekiel hedged with a tilt to his head, causing his short-cropped brown hair to shift on top of his head.

It was my turn to glare. Ezekiel had made it perfectly clear that he knew I had just been around the Prince's Guard. For whatever reason though, he seemed to want me to voice it.

I'll blame my utter exhaustion for giving into his whims so easily.

"Silas."

He gave a soft nod, signaling for me to continue.

"He said you had given me a surplus of magic. It overwhelmed me," I explained, though I didn't truly understand what had happened.

How could I hold magic if I was human? Humans can't wield magic. So how had I punched a hole in the climbing wall? More importantly, how had I punched the wyvern shifter hard enough to cause him to nearly lose his balance? The last time we had fought, I had hit him like a feather. And why had I lost my temper so easily?