Never Yours ✔️

Ch. 28

Before we get into things, I apologize for being late. I had my last week of school this past week so I didn't have a lot of time for writing, but I have an extended amount of free time this week, so I'll write as many chapters as I can before summer classes start up.

Also, I recently joined vocal.media, a platform for writers of short stories, articles, and poems. It would mean the world to me if you check me out on there. This will help support me financially, and it's completely free to you, so take a few seconds and scan through the poems and short stories I've put up there. Thank you all so much.

https://vocal.media/authors/lilli-knight

Now onto the story... 

Arysa sat on the floor, her back against the vanity drawers. Blood was everywhere. It drenched the bottom half of her gown and stained her hands. Her hands splayed across her stomach and she concentrated, closing her eyes as she healed the last bits of the wound, leaving only a thick ugly red scar.

Her head thumped against the vanity. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, inhaling slowly through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

He was getting more unpredictable every day. What would he do next? What more would he take from her?

Someone knocked on the door.

Her head snapped up. "Don't--" She started, but the door was already sliding open.

Demian stepped inside with furrowed brows and pressed lips. His eyes scanned the room before landing on her and he was at her side in an instant, his hands searching her for wounds.

"Arysa--oh my god--Arysa--" He stumbled over his words.

She placed a hand on his. "I'm fine." And when he still didn't stop, "Demian, I'm fine."

He shook his head and sat back. "But--god, there's so much blood."

Arysa's eyes turned to the bookshelf across the room. "It's not mine."

His bright blue eyes turned hard. "Don't lie to me, Arysa. There's a cut in your dress. I'm not an idiot."

She sighed and dropped her chin down to her chest. "I'm sorry. It's just--easier--to hide it."

"Who did this to you? Did he do this to you?" Demian asked quietly, a soft hiss in his voice.

Arysa nodded solemnly.

"Why?" Demian breathed.

Arysa sighed. "To prove a point."

Demian exhaled through his teeth. "This is madness. We have to do something."

Arysa tipped her head towards him, looking up at him through hopeless eyes. "There's nothing we can do, Em."

But he shook his head. "No, you have your--what's it called--your mystic arts or whatever. We can fight him--"

"And then what?" Arysa's tone was biting. "We kill him?"

Demian blinked, startled. He took a moment before he replied, his voice slightly uneven. "We do what we have to do."

"He's stronger than both of us, Demian." Arysa sighed. "We don't stand a chance against him."

"But with the right plan--"

"Just give it up, okay?" Arysa snapped.

She regretted it immediately, the second his eyes widened and he pulled back. She looked down at her hands.