Witch (Nessian)

Chapter 2

Nesta Archeron woke up with a start, and scanned her environment distressfully. When she came to full consciousness, she jabbed her bony thumbs into the eyes sockets of the bastard-born Illyrian, who was idiotic enough to carry her, in his arms, while flying to god-Cauldron knows-where. The one and only— General Cassian, also known as the Lord of Bloodshed.

He let out a started yelp, flapping his wings frantically. His grip around the thin woman thighened, who in turn tried smacking his muscled chest, slapping him harder and harder each time her palm made contact with his black Illyrian leather. Cassian strained himself not to roll his eyes at the pointless effort made by the fiery female who was sleeping in his arms mere minutes ago. She had been thrashing around in the limited space she had, reaching out for something. Anything, but she didn't find it.

Once or twice, she would touch him accidentally and leave her hand there for something. She would whimper quitely, then she would start sobbing. It was heartbreaking to watch her in so much pain. No wonder she kept to herself and not let anyone else share the burden. It was one too heavy to share. But to keep it to herself? It was scary how she managed to keep her posture so stiff and hold her head so high with everything pulling her down. If it had been anyone else, they would have drowned or suffocated long ago.

'Wakes, wakey, sweetheart. Is the princess finally emerging from her beauty sleep?'' Mocking a bow as 'gracefully' as Cassian could while flying. Nesta thought about raising the finger but decided against it. She gifted him a glare instead.

"Nes, no matter what you do, there is no getting out of this situation. Or this handsome young male who happened to be carrying this beautiful damsel in distress," he added his signature smirk to his cocky voice. "Hitting me is pretty useless in this setting. Though if the circumstances were different..." He barely dodged the slap that was sent to one side so that her whole body was relied on Cassian's left side.

Nesta tried to free her hand from his strong grasp but to no avail. He placed her hand on his shoulder and his arm found its way to her waist. He pulled the silver-blue eyed female closer to him. Their noses were almost touching. "The only way you're getting away from me is by falling. And the odds are still not in favour with you." The brute swallowed deeply, scanning his companion's face. But it was blank as usual.

She glanced past him, like he was a mere object that didn't deserve a second of her, to the snowy mountains. She could see that there were many rocky boulders and stones. They must have been at least a few hundred feet above the ground that was covered in a blanket of snow. She had no idea if a fae could survive the fall. A human definitely couldn't. If she fell, she hoped it would be a painless death. Well, as painless as death could be. She let out a barely audible sigh and slowly closed her eyes, removing her hand from her captor's shoulder.

Cassian surveyed a look of relaxation on the oldest Archeron's face and his face paled as realization hit him. At the same time Nesta's knee also hit him where the sun didn't shine. He lost his hold on her and she fell. Slowly at first, or maybe it was Cassian's mind going in slow-mo. Just like it did whenever he was in a fight. Analysing and expecting his opponent's next move. But this time his mind went completely blank and his only instinct was to catch her. Though she wouldn't accept any form of help and/or gratitude from anyone. Even if she was attempting a sucide.

This is taking an awfully long time for her to finish her descent, Nesta thought. She had no idea why she tried to execute a thought she shouldn't have been entertaining in the first place. She heard  wings flapping rapidly around, she urged whoever was listening to make her fall faster. Might as well complete her stupid act now that its already set in motion.

"Nesta!" Cassian shouted, his hands reaching out to catch her. He flapped his wings harder and finally he caught her. She wriggled madly trying desperately to free herself. "STOP IT, NESTA!" Nesta didn't stop. She tried digging her nails in his skin but his leather made them harmless. " LET! ME! GO!" Nesta screamed.

"You would fall,''Cassian said coldly.

"So? Do I look like I FUCKING CARE?!"  Nesta screamed louder.

"Nesta, are you ok?"

"Of course I am, Lord of Bloodshed. What would be wrong with me?! I'm perfectly fine!"

In a second, they had landed on the blanket of snow. Both of them walked away from each other without a single glance. After they were at a good distance apart, Cassian turned around and stared daggers at her skull. Nesta ignored the tingle that ran up and down her body and fixed her gaze on the patch of white.

A bunch of winter honeysuckle grew through the pale land. It's fruity, warm and gentle erotic filled the area Nesta stood in. She wouldn't have known the name of the winter flower species had it not been Elain's interest in plant life. When they had lived in their old broken down wooden house, these flowers grew around the tiny hut. She had no idea how long she had been in Cassian's arms. She was already missing her younger sister. The brute's stare was still drilled at her silhouette. However, she wouldn't give in and look at him. They were about a hundred yards apart.

"Why did you do that?" Cassian said, not nearly loud enough for the woman who just attempted sucided.

"Why did you try to kill yourself!" Cassian shouted in burning fury. The mountains shook a bit at the force of his volume.

He saw her shrug as if her life was not on the line just now. She turned around in his direction but didn't move forward. In a deadly calm voice she said, "It's none of your stupid business."

"None of my business?! NONE OF MY BUSINESS?! What the hell would l have told Feyre if you had died?" He continued to raise his voice.

Nesta, not concerned at all, stated, "That l committed sucide. And if you're scared you'll get into trouble, which you won't, tell her that you tried to catch me but I was too far and then l crashed. End of story." She waved her hand up and down from where she would have died.

Cassian took long strides to close most of the distance between the two of them. "No. Not. End. Of. Story."

"I really don't understand why you're so worried. Neither do I bother to care."

The little distance that remained was shrinking quickly. The bat-winged fae puffed his chest and spread his wings that were as dark as the night, thinking that it would make Nesta bow her head in his "dangerous", "powerful ", "important" presences. Jerk, Nesta scoffed mentally.

'Unlike you, I care about Feyre and I don't want to be the one to tell her this devastating news."

This time Nesta did scoff out loud. Devastating, yeah, right. The most Feyre would do is cry a bit. Here and there. Like she actually gave a damn. Which she did not because if she did, she wouldn't have exiled her oldest sister to the habitats of the arrogant bat like creatures.

"For Cauldron's sake, Nes, you could have died! You would have died!" Cassian looked at her as if she had lost her mind. She probably had, Nesta thought.

"Don't you dare call me, Nes. You have NO right. My name is Nesta. Use your dumb mouth to pronounce the second syllable. Actually you don't need to call me. Not Nes, nor Nesta, definitely  not sweetheart." She spat, her anger slowly melting the cool, blank expression plastered on her face.

Cassian stretched his wings surprisingly farther. His 7 red siphons gleamed treacherously in the sunlight. "I will call you whatever I want, Nesta Archeron. And right now we are going to the Illyrian mountains whether you like it or not. These are the orders of my High Lord and my High Lady, which I will obey."

Nesta tried to recall how she was in his arms in the first place. She was arguing with Feyre and then she was burning up. Then freezing. She didn't know what was happening to —her face drained all the time specks of colour that could have still been seen after her alcohol addiction.

The Cauldron.

It was the Cauldron that had been inside of her head. Speaking. Shouting. Screaming in her head. She remembered her mind had felt like exploding. Her skull felt like it was cracking. Hammered.

'Cassian, what happened after Feyre made her final decision?" Nesta whispered, suddenly shaking uncontrollably.

"I happened, Witch." A chill went through her spine that had nothing to do with the mountains.