Page 99 of Scars and Burns

“Congratulations on your victory.” I say from behind her.

She whips her head around to me. Standing, she brushes herself off. “Please don’t patronize me.”

I smile to myself. Has no one ever bore her a compliment before?

“I’m not. Truly.” My face is serious. Wanting her to know I mean the words that I say. “It’s true no one has been able to beat me in years. You fight with a style I have never seen before. Fluid and stern. Graceful and fierce. It’s remarkable.”

She tilts her chin up. “Thank you.” she says, looking off to the waterfall after. Sighing, she continues, “For a moment I didn’t think I was going to win.”

I raise a brow at her. Walking over to her slowly, still twirling the black dahlia between my fingers. “Why not.”

“You, like most, have superior size and strength over me but you move faster than I was anticipating. Hitting me in the face was a low blow.” She says still not looking at me.

“Hitting you in the face was not my intention. Are you alright? I do hope I did not hurt you.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, “I am fine. I have endured muchworse than a busted lip.”

Oh, I know she has. Not from training. Not from the raids. But from her killing on the Shadowlands borders. The men she kills are no easy feat. Most are skilled warriors themselves. Trained by my Father. Indulging in pleasure and lust wherever they please. Taking whatever they want.

However, each one ends up dead at the end of her blade. They would not have gone down without a fight either. No matter how intoxicated they might have been. Whether it was from equal skill or sloppiness on their end she wouldn’t have come out unscathed every time.

“I can imagine.” I reply.

She whips her head towards me. Worry on her face that I am aware of her late night dwellings. Though I do not intend to expose that knowledge now.

“No one could become as good as you without taking a few hits themselves.”

I see her face relax. Relief flowing across her features. She looks down at my hands and notices the black dahlia I still hold.

“Where did you get that?” She asks, taking the flower from my hands. Holding it up between us.

“I found it in your Mother’s garden. Saphrina informed me this morning that you grew them.”

“Yes.” she says, shyly.

This new found shyness does not suit her. She is not a timid creature. She never has been. Not from the very first moment I saw her.

What is causing this waiver in confidence now?

I will rectify her insecurities.

“It is beautiful. Now you see why I compared your eyes to the black dahlia. Both filled with mystery and intrigue. Drawing everyone intotheir beauty.”

She looks up at me and I swear I would have fallen to my knees in an instant. Our eyes meet and my heart couldn’t be pounding harder. I haven’t been alone with her since the last time we were in this very spot, four years ago.

The tension is high.

The air is different.

The chemistry has changed.

“Thank you for your kind words.” She says, tone small compared to the powerful flame that she is.

“They are not just kind words. They are the truth. You are beautiful and mysterious. Your eyes hold much sadness and despair in them and I would spend every single day for the rest of my life trying to rectify the wrongs that have been done to you. To see the light that burns inside of you come to the surface.” I sigh, closing my eyes.

I’m going too far. Falling too deep. Getting lost in her. Becoming enraptured and out of touch in mind, body, and soul.

But I can’t stop now.

---