Risk

Chapter XIII

She blinked away the fog at the edge of her vision. The pain flaring from her leg, combined with the pressure from Rowan's hand was making her see double, and she was sure that she would pass out should something not change very soon. She tried to focus on something, anything, but her mind refused. That is until a second passed and the double fused into one again, and she could see properly. And she immediately focused on the nearest thing, which happened to be Rowan's face.

His eyes were gleaming with rage, the sight alone enough to chill her to her core.

She gasped for breath, weakly trying to shove upwards with her free hand, but her efforts amounted to nothing.

She trashed around frantically, trying to grasp anything nearby that could be used as a weapon. She clawed at his arm, not caring what she had to do to get him to release his iron-like grip. She didn't care that her nails traced painful-looking marks down his arm, or that dark beads of black blood welled up where her nails dug into his skin. She just needed a lungful of air before her chest exploded and her brain shut off completely.

Suddenly the rage left Rowan's dark eyes, replaced by a muddled look as if he was completely lost. He stumbled backward, releasing both her throat and her arm. He sat down heavily, a stunned look on his face. His chest heaved upwards in a breath that was really more of a gasp.

Seizing the opportunity, she scrambled away, pressing against the wall and trying to prepare herself for if he attacked again. But he never got up. He was propped limply against the nearest bedpost, his chest heaving up and down, and a dazed look in his eyes.

What was wrong with him?

She relaxed her tense muscles, suddenly realizing how much her leg was stinging. She sat down with a huff. Her breath wheezed out. Her throat had gone painfully dry.

"R-" she swallowed. "Rowan?" she breathed the word, almost afraid that if she broke the silence, he would tackle her again.

His head snapped up, his breath suddenly coming faster, and his confused gaze locked on her. He blinked a few times, his eyes almost clouded.

"Rowan?" she repeated, this time louder.

She hesitantly crept an inch closer. He might attack her again, but she had to take the chance. She had to find out if he was okay because if he wasn't, she was in a bad situation.

He stared at her for a second, then his hand drifted slowly to the gash in his side. His eyes turned down to watch his hand until it was pressed against his side, then they snapped back up to meet her gaze again. The confusion lifted from his eyes like clouds after a spring storm.

"What happened?" he swallowed, then blinked a few more times.

"Well, what do you remember?" she asked briskly, not very concerned with how he felt, only if he was fit to travel or not.

"We... Checked into the inn..." he trailed off, the confusion coming back for a brief second. "I must have passed out," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"Yes, you did." She took a deep breath, trying to control the tremble in her voice that came with the thought of Rowan's hand clasped around her throat. "And then you attacked me." She finished.

His head snapped up. "I did what?"

"You heard me." She narrowed her eyes, standing up shakily with the help of the wall. "You attacked me." She frowned at the confused expression on his face. She didn't know how she'd ever fallen for his stupid lies. Passing out had clearly made him lose the control that prevented him from doing what he truly wanted to do, and that was killing her. Everything that ever made her want to trust him was easily explainable and added up to little more than a gift of acting. He had lied, faked emotions, and used his witchcraft-like power to learn exactly what she wanted him to say and do. He was nothing but a liar.