Marked

Chapter Four// Strangers In the Dark

The boy was mostly hidden in the darkness, but as he stepped forward Bex could see his figure clearly. He was tall and athletic, his charcoal grey sweatshirt hanging loosely off his broad shoulders. Most of his face was hidden by the hood, shadows casting over his features, but Bex could make out his pale skin, the strong line of his jaw, and the subtle curve of his bottom lip.

The only true things Bex could see clearly of his appearance were his eyes. They were a brilliant gold, catching and reflecting the moonlight, making them appear as if they had their own inner luminance. They reminded Bex of a lion's eyes, threatening and predatory, glowing as if he could catch the slightest movement in the dark.

Bex scooted back, wincing as pain shot up the left side of her torso. The cold air sharpened her senses, her thin sweater doing little to block out the frosty chill. Her pulse was pounding in her throat like a drum, beating unevenly to an unknown rhythm, and her heart was performing anxious backflips that made her want to jump up and run. The boy seemed to radiate danger, and Bex knew in her heart that he could do far worse to her than the serpent ever could.

She struggled to get up, but the pain in her ribs hindered any movement. She needed to get out of here and run far, far away, but there was no way she could manage to do so when she could barely sit up straight. If the boy ended up attacking her, she didn't stand a chance.

Her eyes flicked to the knife again. It was within arm's reach, glowing like it begged to be handled. Her fingers itched to pick it up. She could defend herself with it, she thought. Without a weapon, she was screwed, but with one...she might just have a small shot of getting away.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Bex lunged for the knife. Not one second after her fingers touched the hilt, the knife flared a bright white, a scorching heat searing her skin like she had touched a hot stove. Yelping, she flinched and dropped it. The knife clattered to the ground, still glowing.

"I told you, you shouldn't touch it."

The low voice came from in front of her, where the boy was standing only a few feet away. Slowly, he stepped into the light, his long fingers pulling the hood off from over his head. When the fabric hit his shoulders, Bex had to fight to keep her mouth from dropping open like and idiot.

He was her age, maybe a little older, yet everything about him was beautiful. Midnight black hair fell in messy waves over his forehead, just long enough to curl behind his ears and around the nape of his neck. His skin was smooth and flawless, a pale shade of ivory that contrasted starkly with his unruly hair. Eyes the color of golden amber glared at her, framed by thick, sooty lashes that fanned his broad cheekbones when he blinked. Everything about him was elegant and graceful; the curve of his throat, the hard line of his jaw, the fluid way that his body moved at every joint.

He looked like a fallen angel from one of the silly teen hearthrob books Bex read when she was in middle school. Dark and light waged a war across his features, and the result was as heavenly as it was devilish.

She knew she was staring, but Bex was drawn to him like one was drawn to fire. The heat was irresistible and filled her with warmth, but it only took one step too close to be burned by the flame.

The stinging pain in Bex's hand brought her back to her senses, forcing her to look away from the boy's face. Angry red welts had formed on her fingers where they had grazed the hilt. Clenching her teeth, she clutched her injured hand to her chest. The knife was still glowing on the ground at her side, as if nothing had changed.

Bex's eyes flicked back to the boy. His full lips were twisted into a small smirk, his golden eyes watching her curiously. Anger bubbled up in Bex's veins. Slowly, she found her voice, but it sounded strangled coming out and harsh to her own ears. "What the heck did your knife do to me?"