The Gift

Chapter Seven

That box could not be lost. That box would not be lost. She could not risk to loose the Crown so she attacked him head on. Her legs were feeling weaker than before, the healing process was inexplicably slow.

He saw her a second before Maila jumped him, he sprayed his thorns all over her body. She ducked. She swung her fist on his knee caps. He crumpled to the ground. He sprayed another batch of thorns her way. Thorns forcibly attached themselves in her flesh covering her entire torso. Shooting pain was travelling through her body but Maila did not stop. She reached for the throat, and with her bare hands she ripped it off the rest of the body.

She lay on the ground staring up at the green canopy of the jungle slowly loosing control of her limbs. The box lay open by her side.

'Maila I can help you, I can heal you, I can make you strong again,' the voice whispered to her.

"And?" She said out of breath.

'You set me free'

"No."

'My Queen, look at you. You need me'

"I s-said n..o," she said gasping for air, the numbness reached her lungs.

'Don't be stubborn Maila, think of your people,' the voice pleaded her now.

From the minute she was born Maila was trained to be Queen. One stupid decision and it would lead her to death. Luc and Jackson would strangle her if they knew what she had done, "Well, tough luck boys I'm already dying," she joked to herself.

'Let me heal you. Allow me to be free, my Queen, and I will be good I promise .'

"Now where did I hear that one before..," her breathy voice replied to the Crown.

'You would rather die than set me free!'

"Truer words could not have been spoken," she said.

'There is another way...,' disappointed the voice offered.

Yes there was, how could she have forgotten. She could bind the Crown to her. Then she could keep it in check and be spared of certain strangulation from her husband and her brother. With great effort Maila took the orange gem, the Crown, in her hand and chanted the words. Through blurry eyes she saw the orange glow take over her body. The thorns one by one withered and fell off of her.

◇◇◇◇

A crippling pain had him flat on his belly. The forceful cracking as his bones shifted back to his human form made him want to throw up.

"Maila", he shouted. "Maila, no," his eyes foggy with tears. Fear spread through him. His mate, his Queen was in grave danger and his wolf had left him. Powerless, hopeless he lay on the ground with his head shoved in his hands.

"Jackson, what happened?" Luc asked him as he crouched down to him.

"M-Maila," was all he said.

Luc pushed his hand through his hair holding back the tears that threatened to take over , "I'll find her and if she is still alive, I swear I am going to kill her with my own two hands."

◇◇◇◇

The blurry mist that had engulfed her was now clearing up. Rose slowly adjusted to her surroundings. A deep purple velvet cloth draped over the four post canopy bed. She turned her head to the side, an empty black armchair was next to the bed.

"This is not my room," she said and panic started to overwhelm her.

"Quiet down little girl. This is my room," a familiar voice answered her from a dark corner. 

"What?" She asked.

"You are in my room," he enunciated slowly.

"I understood it the first time you said it," she replied copying his tone of voice. "Why am I in your room? And why I can't move?"

"I chained you to my bed. You, my cerise, are mine," Vladimir said with his eyebrow raised.

"Hahaha, very funny Mr. Vampiros. Now, do you mind telling me what I am doing here?"

"Is this how you talk to your hero?" He countered.

"Hero?" She replied dryly.

"You know," he said gesturing at the both of them "we can do this all day."

"Fine," she said with a heavy sigh, "would you be so kind, oh my hero, and tell me what I am doing in your bedroom and can't move a muscle?"

"Irony," he huffed, "It's the drugs, that's why you can't move. It will wear off."

She could feel the heat spread on her cheeks. What was wrong with this guy? What was wrong with her for that matter? Why was she longing for his kiss? He was an obnoxious, arrogant, fine specimen of a man.

She could feel the anger rising inside her, bubbling through her veins. She saw him making his way towards her. He bend down and gave her a slow, gentle kiss on the lips.

How dare he steal a kiss from her like this? How dare she like it so much?

"And for the record, I did not steal the kiss. So, I hear that I am a fine specimen, good to know." He whispered lowly.

"I did not say that," she protested.

"Not out loud," he added.

Word count: 866
Accumulated word count: 8029