The Devil's Love

||.Chapter 42: A Deal with the Guardian.||

Rough, itchy cloth blinded Ansel from her sight for a very long time. She wriggled her head against the cold walls, hoping to remove it only to fail when the knot seemed to tighten on its own. Ansel grunted at the discomfort as her fingers make their way through the markings on the cuffs around her wrist. They consisted of a large star, complimented by multiple circle carvings around it. She chuckled at them in disbelief. It felt impossible for Carson to possess such delicate weapons, considering his pompous, inconsiderate, and belligerent personality. However, they work as fine disguises. There had been no holes or openings for the cuffs. Ansel leaned her head backward and blew the frustration out of her heavy chest.

She had to remind herself that she wasn't dealing with a mob or her egoistic father, but an obstinate celestial being that could destroy her at any time. She was not going to let that tear down her hopes to escape. Pushing herself up, Ansel walked across the confinement she was in. There was no sound made from her feet stamping against the floor, but it seemed to have alerted a different party. Just as she took three steps ahead, Ansel heard heavy footsteps rushing in her direction. She began to turn around to sprint, yet two strong arms managed to hurl her back towards her initial position. The strong scent of mixed cumin with cinnamon stung her nose. It reminded her of the once delicious meal Annika prepared, but this - it is no meal.

Ansel squinted her nose the second an oversized palms coated with the strong scent of cardamon stung her senses. She felt them tugging onto her cuffs, dragging her forward together with the person. Defeated by the strength and her inability to protest at the moment, Ansel abided by it. She heard the sound of water crashing against the rocks, a soft swooshing sound across the wind combined with the sound of their footsteps finally echoing in the colder room. The palms left her, allowing her to take a few steps to the side, but she groaned the second she was pushed harshly onto the ground. Ansel lifted her chin with intentions to stare at her enemy right at his face. Her intentions were stopped when the blindfold was removed harshly from her eyes, causing the lights to blind her sight.

Lowering her head, she allowed her fringes to fall over, covering the left side of her face while she blinked to regain her sight and composure. She squirmed when she felt fingers pushing her hair backward, slowly removing the blindfold. Meeting those orange eyes made her blood boiled. She scoffed, leaning her back on the wall, and stared at that despicable gaze. Ansel could only hate him more as the clock ticks. She can never forget the face of the person who was so desperate for power that he could hurt an innocent lady. Her thoughts began to linger far until Carson's deep voice dragged her back to reality.

"Do you really despise me that much?" Carson teased, kneeling down to her height, and trailed his fingers across her jawline while studying her features. "The idea of you holding to your own reality amazes me. A mortal that possesses such beauty and bravery is something to die for but a sore - eye for the angels. I like my lady submissive with a dash of aesthetic clothing like ballgowns, but you, Ansel Ru, just set a new standard for me. I am loving your attitude and trust me, you are going to amuse me for a very long time."

Ansel chuckled at his words, watching the guardian rose gracefully from his position.

"I like my man submissive too," said Ansel, whipping her hair backward with her cuffed arms. "I don't suppose you can fit into that description? If you love my attitude, you could have just watched me from my world, because here, the terms are on your side. Isn't that a little unfair for this little game of yours, Carson? A guardian that runs and hides for the rest of his life. Egoistic on his mind, but a coward on the outside."

Carson stopped his tracks, staring at Ansel with a sharp gaze while he stood tall. She swore she could see the fire cascading down his veins as he tightened his fist. Silence between them was the one comfort she preferred. With a snap from Carson's extremely thin fingers, the cuffs around her wrists disappear. Ansel wriggled her arms freely, bringing them forward to her chest to massage her hurting wrists. When Carson turned to head over to the desk, Ansel studied him carefully. She noticed his sharp jawline cutting through the basking rays of sunlight shamelessly as if he owned it. Which in fact, he did if she never noticed. Carson stuck the burnt cinnamon stick into his cup violently, causing some liquid to splash away from its colony.