Page 51 of Sold to the Devil
They are black.
“You could have hurt Aelys, you asshole!” Mattheo gets frustrated by his younger brother's silence, trembling with anger.
I see the others tense. We all know how this is going to end. They're going to fight and I can't let that happen. I look at Tom to see that he's already looking at me. I take a step back when I see how full of hatred his eyes are.
I haven't known him long, but he's never looked at me like that. He's not the kind Tom I met in the gardens of Leroi Manor.
He is the son of the Dark Mage and he no longer looks human.
His gaze returns to his brother and he laughs darkly. I shudder at the sound. It's terrifying. Everyone else is frozen in their seats, and I'm on my feet as I stand behind Mattheo.
“Are you afraid I'll hurt your precious whore, brother?” He spits, his voice full of venom.
My breath catches and my heart skips a beat. Mattheo doesn't hesitate to punch his brother in the nose, blinded by anger. Tom punches Mattheo in the jaw before taking a blow to the cheekbone.
There is the sound of flesh meeting flesh, of joints painfully cracking and cartilage breaking. Soon, they are both covered in blood.
Their blows are calculated and designed to cause as much damage as possible. They have been trained by their father all their lives and know each other's moves in advance. There is no way for either of them to win.
At least not without killing the other. They have to be separated. Unfortunately, the boys don't budge, too afraid to make them even angrier by intervening.
I exhale and gather my courage before placing myself between them. Mattheo immediately freezes in place, his fist raised in the air, ready to deliver another blow. His eyes widen as if they were platters when he realizes it's me standing there.
Unfortunately, Tom doesn't stop, blinded by anger and alcohol, and throws a punch, without even realizing that I am now between him and his brother. I fall backwards when he punches me hard in the right eye, Mattheo catches me in a flash and pulls me close to him.
That was when the others snapped out of their stupor. Arthur and Enzo leaped from their seats, rushing to stop Tom. The blond cast a spell to put him to sleep, while Enzo cast one that made ropes appear around his body. The brunette approaches him, retrieving his wand from his pocket in case he regains consciousness earlier than expected, and tries to grab it to free himself.
My hands are over my eye as I groan in pain. Fuck, he packs a serious punch. Mattheo gently grasps my wrists and pulls my hands away from my face to see a bruise already starting to form. His features are contorted with worry as he scans my face for another injury. Nancy is also standing up and tries to push Mattheo away to get to me, to no avail.
“Fuck, Aelys!” She exclaims, horrified. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“Someone had to try to stop them,” I snort. “No one reacted, so I thought I'd try.”
Mattheo shakes his head in exasperation, his lips pursed in a disapproving and concerning pout. He says nothing, but he lifts me into his arms, looping one arm under my knees and the other behind my back. He tells the others he'll take care of me and asks them to take Tom back to his dorm and keep an eye on him. They don't protest. He leaves the main hall and the main building, striding toward building G, which houses our dorm.
Is there an infirmary in this academy? Probably.
Once we arrive, he turns the lock on the door and soundproofs the room with his wand. Then he leads us into the bathroom and sits me on the counter. He doesn't make eye contact as he grabs the first aid kit. He applies healing cream to the bruise, I hiss in pain.
He mumbles an apology, still avoiding my gaze. I stop his hand and he turns his head, his jaw clenching painfully. I cup his cheeks and force him to look at me. His eyes are dark and filled with guilt, shame and anger. I sigh and rest my forehead against his. I don't even notice the blood on his skin or his clothes that stains me as well.
“It's not your fault,” I whisper.
He tenses up, but doesn't move.
“I should have stopped him from hurting you,” he protests, muttering.
“Mattheo, it's not your fault,” I repeat in a firmer voice. “I chose to come between you two. It's not your fault.”
He sighs before nodding softly. I kiss him chastely on the lips and he takes me back into his arms. He sits me on the edge of the bed before walking over to the closet. He comes back to me holding one of his t-shirts and hands it to me.
He turns around to let me change in peace and undresses as well, leaving only his boxers on. I smile softly at his gesture and remove my clothes, leaving only my underwear on before slipping into the black top that's way too big for my small frame.
He carelessly tosses his bloodstained clothes into the laundry basket in the corner of the bedroom and sighs as he disappears into the bathroom, presumably to clean his bruised and bloodied knuckles and swollen face.
I stand up, shivering as my bare feet meet the cold tile of the bedroom, and join him. He's taken care of me, now it's my turn to do the same for him.
I grab the healing cream my cousin left me after she treated the bruise on my neck. The sound of running water as he runs his hands under the faucet echoes through the small room, and I move closer until I'm standing next to him.
