Page 17 of Fated Blood

We’re back to back to the stone wall, each of us touching each other’s fingertips through the hole. For the last few days, Fayla has talked non-stop about her family and how much she loves and misses them. My heart is heavy for her, when I’ve never felt pity for anyone outside of the Blood Knights. I yearn to touch her, to watch her touch herself again, but she’s been too busy talking about her life to have time to be seduced. It’s kind of endearing.

“I remember how bright the light was. I remember the smell of wildflowers. My father’s hands were the first touch I felt, so big and warm. He could hold me in one hand if he really wanted to, but he never ever would. He loves me too much.”

“That sounds beautiful,” I tell her. I remember my last few days with my parents with a pang of jealousy.

“They say babies can’t see when they’re just born, that everything is a blur? But I could see. I saw my mother laying in a field of grass that seemed to stretch on forever. Her skin was glistening with sweat, her smile only curving the very corners of her lips as she panted in pain.

“I could see our castle in the distance, the mountains and forest surrounding us, and when I looked up, I saw my father. His eyes held mine, a promise written in them without a word ever having to be said. He swore himself to me that day, and I promised to always love him.”

“There’s no way—” I start, but she grabs my fingers and turns to face the hole. I meet her eyes and see the determination in them.

“Don’t you believe in magic, Sebastian?”

“Only the kind that needs to be stopped,” I say sharply.

She rolls her eyes. “Do you ever feel your chills tingling up and down your spine when you see something beautiful? Does the breeze ever feel like it’s calling you to fly with it?” she asks.

I’m taken by her determination and passion. “Everyone feels those things.”

“There’s magic in the breeze, in your breath as you exhale. Childbirth itself is magic. You and me? We’re magic, this is magic.”

She strokes my fingers with her index as she speaks, a blush slowly creeping up her face. It floods her cheeks as her eyelashes flutter and her gaze drops.

“What we did the other night was magic…” she whispers.

I feel a lump of emotion in my throat even as my manhood hardens at the memory. “That’s a magic I can get behind!”

She smirks. Her blush darkens but her eyes meet mine again. “You sure it doesn’t need to be stopped?”

“Clever girl,” I sigh.

She’s so intelligent that her innocence seems as if it should be impossible. She smiles and she leans her head on the rocks. All I can see is her slightly parted lips as she breathes heavily and the very tips of her fingers as she holds onto the rock.

“You’re getting weaker…” I say, pointing out the obvious.

I chide myself, of course she knows she’s getting weaker. We’re both getting weaker. The only thing they feed us is hard, moldy bread and questionable cheese. Nearly every time Fayla eats, she vomits. If I didn’t know she was a virgin, I’d think she was in the early months of pregnancy.

And then the idea that someone could have had her before me, inseminated her with their seed, makes me irrationally angry. I’ve never been jealous, never wanted anyone so much I couldn’t share.

“Mmmm…” Fayla hums, bringing me back into the present like a snapped rubber band. Her exhalation brushes against my face, warm and unfortunately, a tinge of vomit.

“Can I do anything?” I ask, feeling desperate to help her. Why does she affect me this way? Why do I care?

“Can you break us out of here…magically?”

Her emphasis on the word makes me laugh under my breath. Smart ass.

“No, you’re the only magic I know,” I tell her honestly. Magic is what it must be, maybe she’s bewitched me? “I’ll start chipping more at these rocks…that’s something I can do.” I say it almost to myself, and not to her. “To see your entire face at once would be magic indeed!”

She laughs, really laughs, and I feel my own lips curl up in response.

“That’s one thing I can do!”

I spend the rest of the day chiseling away at the stone with a sharp piece of rock I broke off when I was first put in here. The work is arduous, but I’m making progress. All the while Fayla keeps talking, keeps telling me about her life.

“...and then this one time Mara came over first thing in the morning. She woke me up by tickling my nose with a feather. She took me for a picnic by the creek outside my house. We spent all day on a red checkered blanket, looking up at the white clouds as they floated overhead. She was always there for me, Sebastian. After Father brought her to me, I was never lonely again. She told me all about her life growing up, how she was sick before. Someone was able to heal her and make her strong, because of that, she felt like she owed my family a debt, but she’d never say why.”

“She sounds like a good friend…” I muse, but my mind is working. Magically healed? Owe her life to this family? What could they have possibly done to save her life? “Who is your father?” I ask suddenly.

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