Old Soul Syndrome |ONC 2020|

Winterfyllēð 12, 1066

I woke this morning perhaps an hour before dawn, jerked from sleep by nightmares of hard hands clawing at my body. A muffled scream rang in my ears, and it took a moment to realize that it was coming from me. A dark shape shot up from the floor, swearing and flapping great wings.

I was tangled in the blankets, terror wrapping icy claws around my throat as I fought to free myself. The winged creature stumbled forward and I screamed again, falling out of the bed in an attempt to get to my feet. The creature lunged forward before I could right myself.

Hands gripped my arms, pulling me up off the ground. A heartbeat sounded beneath my ear, soothing me as my mind began to catch up with my reality. I wasn't being attacked by anyone and there was no demon flapping its way toward me.

"Sh," Deniel soothed, rocking me. "Sh, Aeleva. You are safe. Safe."

I clung to him, tears stinging my eyes. I couldn't bring myself to fight when he led me back to the bed and sat, cradling me to him. His fingers gently combed my hair from my face, his other arm holding me tight. The warmth of his body chased the cold terror of my dreams away.

"Safe," he murmured again, like that would somehow erase what had happened. Or like it would erase the fact that I was surrounded by men who would prefer to simply rape and murder me if they thought they could get away with it.

And I was fool enough to believe him.

When I managed to stop shaking, Deniel stood with me in his arms. He turned, laying me on the bed like a small child. When he moved to pull away my hand shot out, fingers snagging in his sleeve. He went very still, like a startled animal.

"Please," I whispered, not entirely sure what I was asking.

All I knew was that his presence did make me feel safe. Safe in a way I hadn't felt in a very long time.

I heard his breath hitch, then come out on an unsteady sigh. Slowly, like he didn't want to frighten me, he sat on the bed. I kept my fingers tightly wrapped in his sleeve, pulling him down onto the thin mattress.

It was so dark I couldn't see his face, but I knew his eyes were trained on me. I flinched when he stroked the length of my arm.

"I am sorry," he said. "I..."

His words trailed off when I lightly touched his cheek. His chest stopped moving as I traced the line of his jaw, over his cheekbone, down his nose. His breath came out in a warm rush when I touched his lips.

"Why?" I asked the question that had plagued me since I had first laid eyes on him. I swallowed against my dry throat. "You killed them. Why?"

Deniel lifted his hand and hesitated. When I didn't move, he carefully traced my jaw, then down the line of my throat, feeling the rapid pulse there.

"I have been a warrior for...all my life." He shifted a little on the mattress, bringing his body closer to mine. "The ability to kill does not mean you should take every opportunity to do so. And I do not..." He paused, then shook his head. "Think? No. Believe that there is honor in...hurting?"

"Attacking," I offered quietly.

He nodded. "Attacking one who cannot defend themselves."

I digested that for a second, gnawing at my lip. I didn't know if it was accident when his thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, making something flutter in my stomach.

"You...kept me," I said, disliking how the words felt over my tongue.

"No!" 

I started at his outburst, jerking away from him.