The Glorious Flame (#2)

Chapter 14

Rouhem

     There was a soft knock on the door. Rouhem raised from his position by the tub and strided over toward the sound. "What?" Rouhem snapped, not appreciating that this distraction has lead his supervision from the woman who needed it most. 

     A packet slipped under the door. It was plastic and filled with pink herbs. There was a clink on the ground where he could not see. "Put those herbs in a bath for her. Give her this drink, it'll help with her recovery," one of the brothers told him before retreating steps reverberated out. 

     Rouhem eyed the bag with suspicion but eventually picked it up. In a matter of seconds, he snatched up the mug offered and went back to Inferno's side. She lain on her side, covered by a soggy towel, surrounded by cool liquid in the tub. Her head was laid against the edge and her eyes were closed in sleep. It was not a peaceful rest, just a healing one. He examined the bag, and only when he was certain the mixure to not be poisoned did he mix it into the bath. 

     The pink-tinted herbs sizzled into the water until it was cloudy purple with streaks of blue. He watched with curiosity as the bright colors bubbled against her skin, seeming to latch onto her flesh in tender strokes. Her body evidently loosened, and her dreamy sigh of relief left him satisfied. 

     So maybe her family didn't want to murder her? Could Inferno possibly have a family that cared? Rouhem hoped so for her sake. 

     He looked over her body and found a hurricane of emotions to be bombarding his mind. Anger. Passion. Stress. Protectiveness. 

     That pixie had managed to enslave him, even as she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Rouhem found that it would be easier to believe that she only regarded him with disdain, but he was never one to choose the easy route. She snapped at him every chance that presented itself, but he was coming to the realization that Inferno was much more complex than a smartass comment. Her labyrinth of a mind left him baffled. 

     He eyed her pale, glossened skin with a need rooted deep in his soul. There were differences right off the bat that he caught after the episode. Tinier waste. Pointier nails and ears. Fangs. Her overall body molded into that of a seductive mistress, more so than before. 

     At this rate, Rouhem was certain that he would parish from his unaddressed thirst for Inferno. He would have to die then, because there was no other option. 

     When the prince was a young boy, he had pictured a fairy princess to be his wife, one which was delicate and kind and soft in every way. Inferno could not have been more different than what his naive mind was only capable of imagining. Gritty. Fierce. Independent. Those words were perfect in describing the wild pixie. But what really stunned him was that he much preferred this fiery pixie princess to be by his side. 

     Everything about her was incompatible with his own character. So why did he bask in the crashing and burning of their collisions? If this wasn't toxic, he didn't know what was.

     To divert his thought away from the train-wreck it was bound to become, Rouhem listened in on Inferno's heartbeat. This time, it was a constant thump, less laborious and anxious. Just what the pixie needed. 

     Rouhem waited a few minutes longer, giving the herbs prime opportunity to do its job. Finally, he pulled the drain and waited until it was only the infuriating woman left in the tub. The prince pulled her body against his and came to a stand. The friction was enough to leave his skin blistering. To end his own torture, he set her on the bed, finding it interesting when she automatically lain on her side.