A Witch.. A Seductress
"Father, you need to be calm. Please, father!" Skirian's voice might have been loud, but it was desperate to a fault.
It was only a little exchange, but Vanessa knew that if the wolf that wanted her dead made it through that door, not even Skirian would be able to stop her from meeting her end. Which was probably why Skirian pleaded in the manner that he did.
Vanessa's chest started to rise and fall in erratic bursts, each inhale snagging in her throat as if it were afraid to go further. Her heart thudded so hard it rattled her ribs, like a drum that had been beaten through one battle too many.
"Father, please. She didn't kill mother for God's sake!" Skirian continued. And what followed was absolute, still silence.
Vanessa leaned forward on the bed, her fingers knotting into the blanket. Every muffled sound from beyond the door had pulled at her nerves. And now, each second of silence was stretching taut enough to snap.
It was Skirian again however, who broke the silence. "Father.. I didn't mean to.."
Then Vanessa heard boots thudding against the wooden floor, away from the door.
"Father, father!" Skirian continued, but eventually stopped speaking. Next, he opened the door and walked back into the room. "Where is that witch?"
"My lord, I thought we agreed on tomorrow," the physician immediately said, trying to slow Skirian's advance towards Vanessa's bed.
"Well, sometimes tomorrow becomes today," Skirian replied bluntly, before nudging the physician to the side with his immense frame, and walking to Vanessa's bed.
"I've just had one of the most embarrassing exchanges I've had with my father in a long time," he said, panting. "I did it because I believed keeping you alive would be of some value. You better be worth it."
"If you knew I was a witch that would cause you so much headache with your pack's hierarchy and society, why did you keep me alive, Lord Skirian?" Vanessa asked. Her voice, much sharper and more confident than it had been a week ago.
"Yeah, maybe I should just kill you right now. What do you think? Save myself the stress." Skirian turned to one of the guards who had followed him in. "Pass me your blade."
"It's because you sensed no magic in me, isn't it?" Vanessa interrupted his action.
Skirian looked back at her, silent.
"And maybe other members of your pack do not share the same rationality as you do, but you know it's wrong to kill an innocent who has no part in and can contribute nothing to the war you're fighting," Vanessa continued. "Maybe you've even convinced yourself beyond the obvious. Maybe you've pep-talked yourself into believing you can get some intel out of me about the witches."
"Can I not?"
"Well.."
"Wait!" Skirian turned around to everyone else in the room. "Give us a minute." In a matter of seconds, not a single soul aside Skirian and Vanessa were within sight.
Skirian's gaze swept over her like a predator sizing up prey that might bite back. "You're smart. That's good. Given the incredible danger you're in," he said, almost approving, until his eyes hardened. "But you're sharp mouthed too. Too sharp mouthed. That'll put you in trouble more times than you can get yourself out of."
"My lord, you think I cannot handle myself?"
"If I hadn't just begged my father heartily moments ago, you'd be dead by now. You know that?"
"Why did you bring me back with you, Lord Skirian? You say I'm in danger now, but you personally brought me into the den of wolves yourself."
"So we're just going to pretend like you weren't going to be executed soon?"
Vanessa's veil of confidence flinched for a second. The corner of her mouth faltered, and for a fleeting moment, her eyes flickered. Did he know more than he was supposed to know? Did he know more than he was already letting on?
"How did you know that?"
"Aside our ability to detect if someone has witch powers or not, we also have wolves that can smell witch blood. And Tohrach, a close partner, is one of those wolves. So I knew from the get go that you are of witch descent, but without powers. And judging by your physical development, if you haven't been slated for execution yet, you should be very soon. You're nineteen at the youngest."
"Twenty. Twenty one this week."
"Right. So if I'd left you in Glastonbury, you'd be in a cell awaiting execution right now."
"Well, yes. I should say thank you, shouldn't I?"
"You're really asking me that?"
"Thank you, Lord Skirian."
"Courtesy, from you. That's new. However, a 'thank you' won't suffice."
"What else do you want, my lord?"
"Information. About the witches. They're our common enemy now, you know. They are rivals of my pack and I fight against them for that. And you? They've tossed you away without even flinching. You should be boiling and itching for revenge."
"That's inaccurate. What makes you think I'll betray my people, just because you need to satisfy your sense of duty to yours?"
"I could break your neck, and not break a sweat."
"Talk is cheap, Lord Skirian."
Skirian flipped his head to the right and let out a sharp chuckle. He then exhaled and tightened his fist.
"I doubt your hands around my neck would even count as a choke," Vanessa said again.
That was it. Skirian leaned into Vanessa, his left hand pining her right down, and his right hand pinning her neck to the bed.
"This is a very compromising position, my lord. Does someone as important as you not have a fated mate already? What would she think if she were to walk in here and see you like this?"
"She'll only blame you and make your life worse than it already is." Skirian increased the pressure around Vanessa's neck, and on her right wrist.
She moaned in pain.. and.. pleasure?
"You should do that again, Lord Skirian."
That was when the entrance door swung open.
"What's the issue, honey? The guards told me you asked everyone to wait out.."
She filled the doorway like a painting stepped into life. Hair spilling over her shoulders, skin aglow in the lamplight, eyes wide with the shock that froze her mid-step.
"What the fuck is going on here!" She yelled.
"Sylrae.. I can explain," Skirian muttered