The Protection

Eleven

"What do you mean she remembered something? She couldn't possibly-"

"I know. She shouldn't have, but she recognized me in the alleyway." Hushed voices were arguing somewhere near me. I tried to open my eyes but they felt so heavy. Like they felt that night in the courtyard.

"You shouldn't have brought her here. If she knows anything, we could be at great risk. I can't even imagine what her father would have to say about the situation," a woman's voice chastised. Why were they talking about my absentee father?

The velvety, gravelly voice I remembered from my dreams answered, "She was dying. He used a poisoned knife. What other choice did I have? I had to save her," Silence ensued for several moments until the male voice spoke again, "Your precious safety statistics are the most important thing after all, right?"

"I don't need your sarcasm. Take her to the guest room, and let her rest for a while. I will allow you to speak to her when she wakes, and the healer can look after her in the meantime," the woman relented, and I heard a door open. Boots scraped the floor, heavy against wood as I was scooped up into the strong arms again. My head lolled against a firm chest, and I was momentarily able to fight whatever spell I was under, peering through my heavy lashes up at the man carrying me.

He was every bit as beautiful as his voice. Stunningly beautiful. He looked straight ahead to wherever we were going with his jaw set. That jaw. A strong and chiseled border to the rest of his tanned face. Full lips, strong cheekbones, and those Brown Eyes. Those beautiful Brown Eyes. The ones that lived in my memory like melted chocolate chips. The ones that haunted me. I tore my gaze away from those eyes to his hair, a stark contrast- messy and blonde. I closed my eyes again wondering if I was dead, on my way to heaven with this beautiful angel as my escort.