A Vampires Slave (Complete)

Chapter Nineteen

"How is Yasmin?" Byron asks, almost as if he can read my mind, asking the question that is foremost in my mind but with my sobs I would never be able to speak coherently.

"She is okay, asleep, worried and asking about Lara. Shes a strong young lady." I feel guilt for Yasmin's feelings, hell its my fault she had to chose between her family or me, but at least my mind rests slightly, knowing that she is sleeping and cant see what has happened. My sobs start to lessen, my adrenaline depleating, Byron's strong arms hold me upright when my legs give way.

"Im going to take Lara to my room, I will need the first aid kit as she is still bleeding." My legs are scooped from under me as Byron carries me through the lodge, my face buried against his damp shirt. A few moments later Byron gently places me onto a soft mattress, my legs dangling over the side, weakness hitting me hard. He releases me completely then kneels infront of me, my head bowed, looking at my fingers in my lap, the shirt tied on my arm is wet, from blood or rain or both? The watery red liquid running over my hand answers my question, both. Byron gently starts removing my shoes, then my socks, he massages my feet and I look at the top of his head confused. The contradictions of him is enough to make anyones head ache, first the insults and then the caringness. My heart is afraid of falling for this caring side if it is only a front.

"Byron?" He lifts his head slowly, looking ashamed? Why?

"Yes Lara?" His hands still on my feet, I shrug off his jacket, wincing as the shirt on my arm shifts slightly, rubbing against the cut. As I look into his eyes I notice they seem to be an even deeper purple than usual, I slowly reach out with my hand, placing my palm on his cheek, he nuzzles against my skin, inhaling deeply, closing his eyes. It suddenly dawns on me as to why his eyes seem to have changed, my blood.

"Let me go and get changed. My blood is making it difficult for you." I pull out of his grasp, quickly standing and walking unsteadily to the adjoining bathroom, I quickly close the door behind me before I collapse onto the toilet seat, unwrapping my arm slowly, the shirt tugging at the healing skin. Looking down at the bloody line I sigh in relief when I realise that its not as deep as I initially thought, rinsing the shirt in the sink I run it over the cut, the sting causing my teeth to grit together. The water runs bloody from the shirt but after a while I turns a light pink, slowly pushing myself up I glance into the mirror. Immediately horrified at the face that looks back, my lip is swollen and cut, both eyes have darkened with bruises and my cheek sprouts a similar bruise. Studying my hands I notice the rope burns around my wrists and the shallow cuts on my palm from my clumsiness. All the wounds are superficial and not life threatening. Stripping off the remained of my clothes I step into the shower, the water is warm and I let it cascade over me, washing my hair quickly with the shampoo I curse under my breath as the suds pop against my cuts, stinging like crazy.

Turning the water off I step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a large off white towel, plaiting my hair and then curling it up into a bun, securing it with the hair band I had in my jeans pocket. Now feeling slightly better I take one look at my bloodied clothes before dismissing them and slowly opening the door into the bedroom. Byron is laid on the bed, leant against the headboard, arms folded across his chest, staring at the blank wall. I also notice that his chest is bare, I cant help but stare at his muscular torso my heart doing a funny little dance. A first aid box placed by his feet, stepping silently into the room his gaze swings to mine, I walk to the bed, sitting on the edge then spinning to face him, securing the towel tighter.

"Hey." I whisper, unsure of what to say or do. Feeling vulnerable facing such a powerful being wearing just a towel, his strong hand reaches out, grasping mine gently as he sits closer, he turns my arm to inspect the long cut, his lips form a tight line. He grabs the first aid box, pulling out padding and bandages then silently he starts dressing my arm, the end result is perfect almost like he has done this many times before. Maybe he has?