The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Page count: 7

Dean had no idea what possessed him to kiss her, but he'd be lying if he denied that he hadn't thought about doing it for a few days now. It was partially the reason he'd been so cold towards her when they'd first met. Admitting that he was attracted to a witch disgusted him; he should hate her and her kind. He should hate what she stood for and he definitely shouldn't have wanted to get into her pants, no matter how hot she was or attractive her accent was.

But then things slowly began to unfold. Castiel was her guardian Angel and had been since she was a child. He vouched for her and was under his protection. He'd shown the most emotion Dean had ever seen from the usually stoic Angel after only being with her for a short time. She'd worked a case with Bobby in the past and he vouched for her, he even seemed to like her, which was a miracle in itself. She'd fought in battles from the young age of twelve and she'd helped to win a war at the age of eighteen, a time when most teenagers were graduating school and had no idea what to do with their lives. She dedicated her life to protecting people from dark magic, the supernatural and magical creatures. She was honest, she was beautiful, she was strong and powerful. She was kind and considerate and fucking hell, she ate more than him and she loved pie, too! Maybe even more than he did!

He tried to hate her because he'd been taught to for as long as he could remember, but she was far too different to the witches he'd faced. She'd saved his life. She hadn't tried to kill him, even when he shot her and she'd almost died. In fact, all she did in retaliation was send a few birds to attack him and Castiel received the same treatment for not answering her calls for the last couple of years, and he knew he deserved worse. She all but swore to him that she would put his life as well as Sam's above her own.

She'd told him of her past, of the war and her world. She'd told him of her torture, something that she hadn't done with Sam and he'd witnessed how close the two had become in a short amount of time. In return, he told her of his time in hell, he hadn't really spoken about it in much detail, not even to Sam or Bobby, but she was the first person he had willingly spoken to about the dark, horrifying topic and it hadn't felt all that worrying or unnatural to him, either.

When she'd been attacked, a wave of worry and fear like he couldn't remember feeling coursed through him, shocking him in a way he hadn't thought possible. She'd broken down; she'd come to him, not Sam. It was him that she clung to, that she sought comfort and protection from. It was him that she came to the previous night when she was upset, not Sam, and it was him that she'd opened up to.

He tried to deny it, he honestly did, but he couldn't any longer. There was just something about her, something magnetising that drew him towards her, and like a moth to a flame, he felt himself being pulled to her presence. A thought briefly crossed his mind that she could be responsible, maybe a Love Spell of some kind, but he dismissed it. First;y, he didn't know if they existed and secondly, if they did he was sure she would never cast one on him. It wasn't in her nature, he knew that.

When she'd told him that he and Sam had to leave and wait for her to come back, if she survived, he felt dread fill him. There was no way in hell he was leaving her. Lucifer himself would be released from the cage before he left her, and that sure as hell wasn't going to happen. To put it mildly, it was a right pain in the ass to get him in there in the first place.

And when they were arguing, she was so close and he could smell that apple and caramel scent that reminded him of pie, a smell he had come to associate with her. Their noses were almost touching and they were looking into each other's eyes, glaring really, and he could feel himself drowning in her chocolate brown orbs.