Page 30 of Scars and Burns

He’s tall. Maybe the tallest man I’ve ever seen. He’s covered head to toe in black clothing. Ugh, typical Shadowling, only ever wearing black to match their souls. My eyes scan over his body. His demeanor. He’s leaning up against a thick tree. Though somehow it doesn’t look near as thick with him next to it. Arms crossed over his chest. His black jacket is a loose style but he’s so huge it’s tight around his muscles. Still exposing his toned arm. Gripping his massive shoulders. Not able to fully close over what I am sure is a very impressive chest and torso. His pants aren’t as tight but it leaves little to the imagination. The thick and long outline of his dick still on display.

My eyes linger far too long there. Giving him a chance to smirk and say, “See anything you like?”

I snicker at his remark. “Hardly. What are you doing here? Lost again?”

His stature doesn’t change. “What makes you think I was lost before?”

I roll my eyes, “Because I come here quite often and you had never been before nor have you been since. Leading me to the conclusion that you did not mean to be here.”

“Well, that’s very presumptuous of you. Maybe I just didn’t like what I saw.”

I huff, “Well, you weren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Now, I ask again, what are you doing here?”

He relaxes. Pushes himself off the tree, lowering his arms to his side. Stepping forward a bit. He seems to somber a little before saying, “I am here to offer my condolences for your Mother.”

Anger rushes through me. The wound is still too fresh. How does he know who I am? How does he know about her death?

Unless… he was there.

My magic comes to life. Blasting me forward. Pushing him into the tree. He towers over me and could easily overpower me just like any other opponent. But before he can my blades are in fatal positions. My dominant blade lay across his throat. My other one pointed directly at his side. Both ready to bleed him out with one quick move. “Were you there? Did you kill her?” I ask through gritted teeth.

He looks down at me. No worry in his eyes. Just sorrow and sadness. As if he truly does feel remorse for my loss.

“Don’t make me ask again. Did you kill her?”

He smiles, “You just did, but no little light I did not kill her.” My face relaxes. Little light. That’s what Cookie and Mother call - called - me.

He takes advantage of my moment of wavering. He grabs both my wrists. Twisting us around so I am now pinned up against the tree. Knocking the breath out of me. The bark of the tree cutting into my hands as he slams them above my head.

He leans over me. Pressing his body into my own. His legs planted beside mine. Goddess he’s built like a mountain. I feel his dick, not even hard, and still so prominent right on my stomach.

He cranes his head down. His lips brush my neck. Trailing up to my ear before dragging across my cheek.

My heart is pounding. I’m sure he can hear it. My mind and body are screaming. Wriggling against him. The bastard. He was a part of the raid from last night. I’m sure of it. The arrogance that befallshim. The balls he has to confront me about my Mother. To act like he cares, offering me sorrow. Then pinning me against a tree. Invading my personal space. He knows who I am. He knows I am a Lady. And although I have never acted or wanted to be one. This stranger. This motherfucking Shadowling should at least show me the decency and respect of one.

I despise him. I hate him. He’s a monster. Just like the stories say about the people from the Shadowlands.

And yet, he’s awakened something inside of me.

I press my thighs together as I feel his hot breath skitter across my skin, causing my pussy to flutter.

There’s a burning inside of me. A longing. A pulsing need at my center that I’m not sure what it means.

He pulls his face away from mine. Looking me directly in the eyes. I stare back. His eyes, just as I remember but far more intense up close. They are brilliant. Deep pools of blue I could get lost in.

I scan the rest of his face. It’s flawless. His tan skin complimenting his black hair. The vibrancy of his eyes shining. His defined jaw leading to his muscular form.

He swallows. I watch the movement diligently down his throat. That’s where the imperfections begin.

I remember the marks on his skin from before. I couldn’t make out what they were. He was too far away. But now, so close it is clear. They are burns. Wrapping around his neck like a collar. I can tell some have aged. Seeing the healed skin underneath while some maybe not even a few days old.

How did he come by these I wonder? What sort of person would strangle another with fire? Burning them. Mutilating their skin. But not kill them. Even for training purposes that is cruel.

I clench my jaws. He watches my every movement intently. “You’re a fighter. You have so much inside of you. Rage. Fire.Shame. Guilt.” He pauses, “Darkness”.

I glanced at him for a moment. How would he know what’s inside of me?

He moves my wrist. Now holding both of them in one hand. Drawing his other down my face and neck. His touch is gentle and soft. A caress I’ve never felt before. His fingers meet my jacket. Dipping in between the overlapping fabric. Pulling down slightly exposing my goddess mark.

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