Raven woke slowly, easing out of her dreamworld while her body was engulfed in warmth and softness…
When her eyes fully opened, she saw Malachi above her, smiling down at her softly.
She could tell she fell asleep after he rubbed her temples… and right now he still had his arms around her, caressing her back…
Her cheeks heated, and he clearly noticed, smiling slyly.
Did she actually sleep all night? Was he right when he texted her that night she slept at Jaelyn’s house?
You didn’t sleep at all last night. You slept well at my house.
She didn’t know how this was possible… but she felt like she was going insane.
When she tried to sit up, Malachi pushed her back down onto the bed, a half-smile lurking on his face when she glared at him.
“Don’t get up,” he said, his voice somehow gentle. “You looked so comfy.”
“I want to get up,” she argued. “Let go.”
“Liar, you’re comfy, aren’t you?”
She was about to argue back when she remembered yesterday…
He could read minds.
Her stomach stirred, and she tried to sit up again but he did the same, shoving her back down onto the bed. “You heard me,” he said. “Don’t get up.”
“I’m uncomfortable,” she said.
“Liar.”
“Fine,” she said, cheeks burning brighter. “I have other things to do.”
“Like what?”
“Not be in bed with a serial killer.”
He laughed softly. “You’re still going on about that?”
“Can I go home?” she said.
He only looked her over. “You are home, Princess.”
“I want to go back home…” she said. “My childhood home.”
“And I want a million dollars,” he stated. “Sadly, we all can’t get what we want.”
She struggled to sit up again, but he shoved her back down.
“Raven,” he said, tone sharpening, “seriously. Next time I’m holding you down.”
She gave up then, looking away from his burning eyes and to the nightstand.
He moved to brush some hair away from her eyes, but she slapped his hand away, glaring despite her enjoying the gesture.
“I thought you liked that,” he said. “You didn’t resist when I did it last night.”
“I was tired.”
“So, your defenses lower when you're tired?”
She opened her mouth to respond but closed it again. “I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re irritating.”
“That’s one of my beautiful traits,” he responded.
“And egocentric, apparently,” she added.
He laughed softly.
They were both silent for a moment.
“I read that book you like, ‘Dire,’” he said then, watching her look to him curiously. “I liked it, too.”
“You’re just saying that,” she responded, looking away.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know a single teenage boy who likes young adult romances directed to girls.”
Malachi was silent for a moment. “I meant… I liked it because the main character, Emma, reminded me of you.”
She never responded, but her cheeks started glowing.
“She’s smart, kind, resistant… and the guy character is like me.”
She sat up then, but Malachi pulled her back down, tone sharpening. “Last strike, Raven. Trust me, you don’t want me to hold you down.”
“Stop it,” she said suddenly.
“Stop what?”
“You’re trying to connect with me. Stop it.”
He just watched her for a moment. “I know you like me, Raven.”
“And you’re holding me captive,” she answered. “And when I escape this place, I’m going straight to the police.”
“And if you do,” he answered, “one of three things will happen. One: they put you in a foster home—which I know you don’t want. Two: you’ll be hunted down by assassins and be murdered. Or three: me or one of my underlings will hunt you down ourselves and drag you back here.”
She was quiet, just hugged herself.
“Raven,” he said.
“Don’t talk to me…” she said then.
“Why?”
“You’re confusing me.”
“By confusing you mean ‘question yourself?’”
She never answered.
“Raven,” he pressed, “I want to protect you. I took you because you're in danger. There’s an entire army out there hunting you down. Don’t make any rash decisions because you’re afraid of trusting me.”
“I’m not afraid,” she snapped.
“Yes, you are,” he answered. “I know you want to trust me, and I gave you many reasons to, but you refuse to accept it because you’re used to trusting yourself, right?”
“I have a best friend.”
“Who you lied to when she asked you what was happening. You answered vaguely and depended on yourself when you thought you were being followed.”
She puffed her cheeks, knowing he was right.
“I’m watching over you,” he whispered, tucking some hair behind her ear, and she moved to slap his hand away, but he caught her wrist. “Don’t resist my comfort, Raven. I know you want it.”
“That sounds so creepy,” she answered.
“And so do all those people who want you murdered,” he answered. “Do you know what was going through those two men’s heads when they attacked you last night?”
She looked away.
“Don’t look away from me, Raven,” he said, pulling her wrist so she faced him. “I know what went through their heads. I knew what horrible things they were planning, and it made me angry.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You only care about yourself,” she responded.
“I know part of you wants to think that, but it’s not true.”
“You’re lying right now,” she said. “I can tell.”
“No, you can’t,” he said. “You’re avoiding looking at me.”
She tried pulling her arm out of his grasp, but his grip only tightened.
“Raven…” he pressed, “please, look at me.”
She closed her eyes in response.
He sighed, clearly in defeat, and his grip loosened.
A hand grasped her other shoulder from the other side of the bed, and she gasped, opening her eyes and screamed.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Malachi said from the spot where the hand came from. “Calm down.”
She looked from where he originally was, and to where he stood at the side of the bed. “How did you...?”
“Super speed,” he answered.
Oh, yeah.
She exhaled a breath through her nose, rubbing a hand down her face. “You scared me.”
He smiled softly when she repeated the same thing he said the night before. “Sorry, Princess. I just wanted to ask you if you were hungry.”
“What does that have to do with teleporting behind me?”
“Because I made you chicken noodle soup for brunch. Your favorite.”
She looked to him then. “Hold on… what? Why? And when?”
His lips tilted. “You heard me, now come on. Sit up.”
How did this moment turn from dark to light? Did he just have that effect?
She listened anyway, wondering if he made it her favorite way, too.
He pulled a tray off the nightstand, setting it on the bed while he stirred the spoon in the broth.
“Where did you get—” she started, but he interrupted her:
“Shhh… open.”
Before she could even register what was happening, he slid the spoon in her mouth, watching her expression harden at the gesture.
“Don’t you dare spit it out,” he said then, knowing what she was planning. “I didn’t poison it, you know this.”
She glared at him; cheeks full.
“Swallow,” he instructed.
She almost painfully swallowed the broth, the salt filling her mouth with an abnormal hunger, and she stared down at the soup bowl.
“You want more?” he said, brushing some broth off her lip with his thumb, and for some reason, she didn’t pull away.
Just nodded shyly.
“Open,” he said, raising another spoonful.
She shook her head, pulling away from his reach while he gave her an annoyed look.
“I want to drink it myself,” she argued, reaching for the bowl.
“Ah—ah,” he said, pulling back while she gave him a confused look. “You punched me yesterday. I get to do what I want.” He lifted the spoon then. “Now open.”
She looked to the spoon, then back at him.
His annoyed look returned. “I’m not going to choke you, alright?”
She blinked, then stared down at the spoon, parting her lips.
He slid the spoon in her mouth, feeding her, and didn’t even trigger her gag-reflex slightly.
“There we go,” he said, taking the spoon back and running his thumb under her bottom lip again, getting rid of the excess broth. “All better.”
When he looked to her, her face was beet red.
He smiled then, watching it somehow grow darker.
“Can I go soon?” she said then.
“Where do you want to go?” he wondered.
“School… I missed yesterday. I already have so much to catch up on.”
He shook his head, making her brows draw together. “Nope, sorry.”
“But....”
“No ‘buts,’” he responded. “The answer’s no.”
“Why?” she questioned, somehow not getting angry.
“Because I said so,” he answered, making the anger finally spark. “Now, let’s get ready to go.”
She blinked. “Where? I thought you said I can’t go to school.”
He looked to her then, amused. “For once, just trust me.”
204Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH4rjDVP3h3
*****
Malachi dragged Raven further into the townhome, looking back at her every couple seconds to see her expression.
It was always the same, she would look around curiously and when she noticed he was glancing at her, they would lock gazes and she’d force herself to look away.
They were still upstairs, but Malachi dragged Raven further down the hall than where the bedroom was, and they ended up at the end, where a large, oak door rested.
Malachi opened it with no hesitation, and pulled her inside faster than she could handle, making her yelp.
He clapped twice again, and she closed her eyes when the torches lit to shield herself from the burning flash.
When she opened her lashes, she gasped, eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.
It was a training room of some sort, the walls lined with swords, daggers, bows and arrows, whips, and so much more…
Malachi let go of her hand then, drawing a dagger down from a shelf, stepping over to her.
She was about to back away—thinking he was about to kill her—but he offered his hand.
She stared down at it for a moment.
“Come on,” he said impatiently, wiggling his fingers as another indication.
After a second of hesitation, she held out her hand, watching him grasp it.
What was he doing? Was he going to slice her skin open and do some kind of black magic ritual?
But he did something unexpected and handed her the weapon, guiding her fingers to close around the hilt.
“How does it feel?” he said then, clearly not noticing her confused expression or didn’t really care. “Is it too heavy?”
She shook her head. “No… it’s not really that heavy.”
He nodded in response. “Balance it on your finger.”
She looked to him then. “What?”
“Balance the hilt on your finger.”
“Why?”
He only chuckled. “Just trust me, okay?”
So, she did, letting the dagger rest on her index finger, and after she let go, she watched it rock back and forth before becoming steady.
“That’s what I thought,” Malachi said.
“What?” she questioned.
“You’re a dagger wielder,” he answered.
How could he have possibly known that?
“At your house,” he stated, responding to her thoughts, “when you pulled that knife on me, I could tell by the way you held it.”
“But it was a steak knife,” she answered. “Not a dagger.”
He tilted his head to the side. “They’re similar. More similar than a knife and a sword or a knife and a bow.”
She just blinked.
He held his hand out. “Can I show you how it works?”
She numbly handed it to him.
“This dagger is made with magic,” he explained, tossing it to the other hand. “A lot of angels use angelic swords which is a different type of magic, but what makes this cooler,” he tossed it back to his dominant hand, “is this.”
He held the hilt tightly in his hand, and Raven watched in awe as the blade disintegrated with white fire, leaving the hilt untouched.
It just looked like a random pole.
“Whoa…” she said in awe. “That’s so cool.”
“And now,” he said, flashing her a fox smile, “you can hide it anywhere. In your sock, in your shirt, in your pocket, and when you’re in danger,” he flipped the hilt out gracefully, the blade emerging from the hilt like white flames hardening into iron, “you can do this.”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“Neat,” he said, smirking, “huh?”
She nodded in approval.
He handed her the sword, hilt out. “Want to try?”
She gladly took it, staring down at the metal in awe.
“Try it,” he said, nodding to the sword.
“How?” she wondered curiously. “Do I whisper a spell or... what?”
He only chuckled. “No, you don’t. It’s pretty easy. Just tell the sword what to do.”
“Once again,” she said, a bit of irritation in her tone, “how?”
He tapped his head. “Use your brain, Raven.”
She blinked.
He shook his head in defeat. “Think it. When you hold the sword in your hand, it will do what you tell it to.”
She faked a childish grin. “Can it turn into a puppy?”
Malachi raised his brows. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“It was worth asking.” She shrugged.
He nodded toward the sword again. “Go on, don’t be shy.”
She waved the sword in her hand, and she could practically feel the warmth of the magic running through her veins; like it was a part of her.
She closed her eyes, whispering to the sword in her thoughts, Disappear...
And when she opened her eyes, her mouth parted in surprise while the sword in her hand consumed in angelic flames; until a second later, all that was left in her hand was a cold, silver pole resting in her palm.
“Now try making it reappear,” Malachi said, watching her in amusement.
Appear, she thought, flipping out the hilt like Malachi did and the metal slid out from a beacon of light, creating a sparkling silver blade that had runes carved in them.
Raven tilted her head to the side; for some reason, she just noticed the dark marks burned deep in the metal.
“What are these?” she wondered curiously, tracing the patterns on the blade.
“Marks,” Malachi said, “or runes. It really doesn’t matter what you call them.”
He stepped over to her, clearly not afraid she could stab him from this distance.
“This,” he said, pointing out one centered near the tip of the metal, “is an angelic mark.”
It looked angelic, at least. It had a rhombus-shaped mark that looked as if the center was cut out with the same shape, and on the bottom right and left corners there was a black circle pressed in, but on the top, there was an angelic halo circling the rhombus’ head.
“What about this one?” she wondered curiously, pointing out a pentagram-like star that also had circles at every point.
“Witches’ mark,” Malachi answered.
“This?” she pointed to another one that had a god-like figure trapped in a square-like U-shape, more circles on every edge.
“Oath rune,” he stated, “but we call it the juramentum rune.”
“Why?” she wondered curiously.
He smiled softly. “Because it’s latin for oath.”
“Oh,” she responded, then pointed to the last one which had a crescent moon facing down like an upside-down U-shape, though under the moon was a droplet of some kind of liquid; on one side of the droplet was an angel wing, but it was black like a fallen angel, and on the other side there were other odd symbols. One looked like fire, one like a snowflake, one like an ocean in a circle, one like an outline of mountains, one with the shape of lightning, and the last looked as if it were a black snow, though with razor-sharp edges.
“What’s this one?” she wondered curiously.
Malachi smiled softly. “That one is for all of the enchanted. The moon represents werewolves, the droplet is vampires.”
“Oh, because of blood.”
“Yep, but I’m not finished.” He pointed to the angel wing. “Fallen, archangels, faries or any type of being with wings.” He moved to the other side of the droplet; with all the symbols. “All of these represent elements.”
She pointed to the angel wing. “You,” then to the crescent moon, “you,” to the droplet of blood, “you,” then lastly to the fire symbol, “and you.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“But…” she narrowed her eyes, running her thumb along the rugged bump; where the sharpened black snowflake rested, “what element is this?”
Malachi smiled then. “Darkness.”
“Oh,” she whispered, “is it a bad one?”
He shook his head. “Not necessarily. It depends on how you use it.”
“Do people use it wrongly often?” she wondered silently.
Malachi shook his head, once more. “It’s a very rare power. Barely anyone uses it.”
She looked to him then, tilting her head to the side curiously. “What’s my power?”
“Why don’t we train you and find out?”
“You mean…” she said, brows drawing together, “you don’t know?’
He only smiled. “Let’s train you first.”
A slight anger sparked inside her. “Why don’t you ever answer my questions?”
“I do answer them,” he stated.
“With other questions or just changing the subject. Or just dodging it.”
He chuckled as if her response was amusing.
“Do you know what I am?” she questioned sharply.
A nod.
“What am I?”
“Do you ever ask your teachers for answers to your math homework without doing it first?” he responded. “You work for the answer. That’s how you learn, Raven. Not by someone telling you.”
“This is different from Algebra class,” she answered.
“Not as much as you think,” he stated. “Training is hard, Raven. It takes time to build muscle, to learn how to fight, to dodge bullets.”
“You mean that figuratively, right?”
A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “Partly.”
She grew cold inside. “Malachi… I’m not really sure I’m ready for this… I don’t have enough momentum to train, you know. I can barely withstand PE class.”
He chuckled again. “That, Raven, is because they’re not training you the right way.”
“You don’t know that,” she answered sharply.
He raised his brows. “Does your coach know you personally? What goes on in your head? What your favorite things are? How you like to be praised?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Malachi… I don’t know where this is going, but please stop.”
“What are you afraid of?” he questioned then. “I’m not going to hurt you, and you’re going to be able to protect yourself; like you always wanted.”
She opened her mouth to respond but closed it again.
He had a point whether or not she liked it.
“Raven,” Malachi said, “you’re a part of an entirely different race. You’re an enchanted. You can run faster, you can get in people’s heads, you can use magic, you can fight like no one had ever before, don’t you want that?”
She nodded softly.
“Then why are you so afraid?” he questioned then. “Surely you should be excited, right?”
“What happens if I mess up?” she said. “Kill someone who's not a bad guy?”
Malachi stepped up to her then, cupping her cheeks and tilting her head up so he met her gaze. “Can I show you a little trick?”
She nodded.
“Look into my eyes, Raven Magicae. What do you see?”
“They…” she whispered, “look black.”
He nodded. “Yes, but what do you notice? How do you think I feel right now?”
“Content?” she wondered carefully.
He smiled, letting her go. “Even for magical beings, the eyes are the tunnels into our thoughts. We can read emotions through them; even if they’re really good at hiding it.”
“What does that have to do with me accidentally killing someone?”
He looked her over. “Raven… you’ve been an enchanted since you were born. Is there something inside you? Something that feels foreign, but you always listen to it because you know it’s right?”
She thought for a moment, trying to remember…
Wait… hold on.
She looked up. “I do,” she responded, “I always listen to it.”
“Does it speak?” he wondered. “Or is it a feeling?”
“It’s both,” she answered. “I thought it was just my imagination speaking to me, but I didn’t feel like I was talking to myself.”
“That’s your enchanted,” he responded. “Every being has a certain self that they’re connected to. Back then, werewolves were the original corrupted because they started out as a second personality. When the host got stressed enough, the werewolf would form their own body.”
She looked worried. “You mean—”
“No,” he said shaking his head, “your enchanted isn’t going to form a second person. I was saying that werewolves evolved from that. Now they’re just normal beings.”
“But they have anger issues,” she answered.
“Not if they have therapy.”
She imagined a dog sitting in a therapist’s office, panting while the psychologist talked.
“Earth to Raven,” Malachi said.
“I’m still here,” she answered, gesturing to herself.
Malachi smirked slightly. “I was saying that even though your other self feels foreign, it’s not. It’s still you.”
“But what about the werewolves?”
“Those types haven’t existed in six-hundred years,” he answered.
“Well, you could’ve started with that,” she muttered.
He rolled his eyes, then looked to her. “Let’s train, Raven, okay?”
“I still don’t have enough momentum to train.”
“How about this?” he wondered casually, leaning a shoulder on a chiseled, granite wall. “Every time you win against me, I’ll give you a reward.”
His comment earlier went through her head:
Does your coach know you personally? What goes on in your head? What your favorite things are? How you like to be praised?
She narrowed her eyes then, knowing that there must’ve been a catch. “What’s the reward?” she asked suspiciously, wondering if she even wanted to know.
His smile sent her blood rushing.
Her brows drew together. “Oh, God. It’s bad, isn’t it?”
His smile somehow widened.
She hesitated, clearly straining when she questioned, “What kind of reward, Malachi?”
Something bright flickered in his eyes, like a lit match that vanished within seconds. “A kiss.”
She blushed, and seconds later socked him across the face.
“Ow!” he said, rubbing his cheek. “What the hell was that for?”
“Being an asshole.”
“Better an asshole than a wus—”
She slapped him again.
“Ow!” he exclaimed. “I was going to say a wuss, yes. But I wasn’t talking about you.”
“Uh-huh,” she said sarcastically. “What’s the actual reward, Malachi?”
“That was the actual reward,” he responded.
She raised her hand again, aiming for his cheek but he caught her wrist. “Dude, stop. I’m pretty sure you did enough damage.”
“You’re still being a creep,” she answered, “so clearly I haven’t slapped you enough.”
He rubbed his cheek with his other hand, sticking out his lower lip. “It hurts.”
“Aww,” she said sarcastically, “do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”
He smirked. “Yes, please.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I know, but now you have to follow through.”
She shook her head. “Asshole.”
“Is that the only derogatory word you know?” he questioned then. “Do you want me to buy you a dictionary?”
“I hate you.”
“Aww… don’t say mean things like that.”
“Fine,” she responded, brows raised, “I loathe you.”
He smiled then. “Liar.”
She rolled her eyes, then looked to her wrist that he still gripped onto. “Can you let go of me?”
“Yes,” he said, “but promise you won’t hit me again.”
“Or what?”
“You won’t like the consequences,” he said, smile widening. “Trust me.”
“Fine,” she said, shaking her head, “I promise.”
“To?” he prompted.
“Not hit you.”
“Say the whole sentence without loopholing.”
She sighed. He was still reading her mind, knowing everything she was planning.
“I promise to not hit you again,” she responded.
“And…?”
“And what?” she said.
“You said you would—”
“Malachi,” she said sharply, “I’m not kissing it and making it better.”
“But you said….”
“I was being sarcastic, dummy.”
He looked as if he were thinking for a minute. “‘Asshole’ to ‘dummy,’ we’re getting there.”
She rolled her eyes.
“So,” he said, smiling innocently, “you going to take the prize?”
She glared at him.
“Or…” he said, “I can buy you mashed potatoes.”
She shot him a look. “You know very well that I hate mashed potatoes. You can read minds, Malachi.”
“So…” he said, “kiss then?”
“Can you come up with something else?” she questioned harshly.
“Nope, take it or lose it.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “Fine…” she whispered, “I’ll take the kiss then.”
He smiled mischievously, putting a hand to his ear as if she muttered the words. “What was that?”
She clenched her teeth. “You know what I said.”
“Then tell me,” he urged, “it can’t be that hard.”
“Do you get some kind of pleasure from making me embarrassed?”
“Yes,” he stated honestly, “so satisfy the need, Princess.”
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, muttering, “Kiss me.”
“What?” he said as if he were deaf.
“Kiss me!” she yelled out, feeling her cheeks heat.
He blinked, then a fox smile spread across his face. “Kiss you now or as a reward?”
She looked down to her feet, hiding her reddened cheeks.
“Don’t lie, Raven,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”
“I hate you,” she muttered.
“Answer my question,” he responded. “Don’t be shy. I don’t bite. What do you want?”
She just breathed for a moment, then responded in a tiny voice, though it was inaudible.
“What?” he said, making her shoot him a look with a reddened face, and he threw his hands up. “I swear this time I actually didn’t hear you.”
She shook her head, burying her face into her hand that he didn’t have in his hold. “Is my face red?”
“Redder than a tomato,” he responded honestly.
Her breathing echoed from her hands, making it sound louder, though it was muffled.
“Raven,” he sang. “Come on. Answer the question, Angel.”
“Why are you making me do this?” she whined into her hand.
“Two reasons:” he stated, “one: it’s fun to see you like this; it’s kind of cute, and two: I’m trying to break you out of your shell.”
“My shell keeps me safe,” she responded.
“You think it does,” he responded, “but what you don’t understand is that pushing people away is hurting you, Raven.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, it is,” he stated. “You can’t be dependent on yourself all the time, Angel. It’s breaking you slowly.”
She took her hand away then, the redness in her face dulling. “I can’t trust anyone anymore… I can’t love anyone anymore, either, Malachi.”
He tilted his head to the side curiously. “Why?”
She blinked and looked down to his chest, lashes lowering. “They’ll just leave me. Or… or they’d hurt me.”
“How?” he wondered.
She shook her head. “Why am I telling you this?”
Because she was slowly trusting him… and she was opening up… and he wanted her to. She needed it; he needed to listen.
“Continue,” he pushed. “Go on.”
“I don’t want to trust you,” she said.
“But?” he prompted.
“A part of me wants to.”
“And why aren’t you listening to that side, Princess?”
“Because I’m conflicted.”
“About what?”
“I’m still questioning whether or not you want to kill me.”
He chuckled under his breath as if what she said was funny. “Come here,” he said then, his tone light.
Before she could respond, he pulled her against him, gently rubbing her back as if she were scared.
“Relax,” he whispered, “you’re tensing.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she muttered angrily.
They were both silent for a moment.
“Answer my question,” he said then, still rubbing her back. “Kiss you now or as a prize?”
She shifted further into him, deciding she’d rather hide her face than push him away. “Both….”
He smirked. “Both?”
A nod.
“Then show me your face,” he said. “I can’t kiss you when you’re hiding it, you know.”
She lightly pressed her fist into his chest; a playful punch to indicate that he was being ridiculous.
Malachi only chuckled at the act. “I don’t see how I can kiss you in this way, Raven.” He eyed her over for a moment, then smiled. “Unless… you want me to kiss your neck.”
She shook her head, the sides of her face turning red, as well.
“It’s so easy to embarrass you,” he commented, laughing softly. “Come on.” He nudged her shoulder. “Show me your face.”
“You said it looks like a tomato,” she stated.
“And that’s bad?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want it to be.”
He snickered, rubbing her back gently. “Show me your face, Raven Magicae. Come on. Don’t be shy.”
When she didn’t respond, he shook his head in defeat. “You never listen.”
Before she could respond, he caught the side of her chin, pulling it away from him at light-speed and clasped their lips together.
She stared at him in surprise for a moment, wondering if she should’ve been okay with this.
But the flame inside her burst again, showering sparks of fire though her like she’d never been warm before.
So, she closed her eyes, leaning into him as he cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer.
It had been a day since they kissed, and he still tasted the same… Like earth and mint and pepper, but with a hint of cinnamon.
And she loved every second of it.
Malachi smiled against her when she instinctually rose to her tiptoes, trying to get closer.
Did she even know what was happening?
It was like every time they did this, the resistant part of her switched off, and she gave in the next second.
Malachi pulled away slightly, curious to see what she would do.
Raven wrapped an arm around the back of his neck in response, holding him in place.
Did she even know she was doing this? It was quite intriguing.
But something inside him started coiling… burning almost painfully.
And his teasing side somehow vanished; replaced with something dark, though bright.
It was a need; an intense one, burning him inside out.
He needed her closer.
Yes, that’s what he needed.
She had to get closer.
Just a little more.
Just enough to satisfy the fire inside.
And he leaned down then, pressing his lips hard enough to hers to let a moan of surprise escape her mouth, but not enough to hurt her.
She pulled away slightly. “Malachi.”
“I know,” he said. “I won’t try anything. Please, just a little longer.”
She blinked.
Was he actually pleading her to kiss him?
She’d never thought she would’ve seen this side of him in her lifetime.
But she kind of liked it.
So, she smiled. “Okay.”
He pressed his lips back to hers, lightly nibbling her bottom lip as she kissed him back, soft whimpers escaping her mouth.
After a second of him just holding her to him, he let go, parting their lips and stared down at her then.
Her eyes were bright, face back to its normal color, though her cheeks were shaded a light pink.
“If I went any longer, I think I’d faint,” he stated honestly.
She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”
“Because I’m sweating,” he said, glancing down at his damp skin, “look at me.”
Raven giggled. “It’s alright, you smell fine. Don’t be self-conscious.”
He looked to her then, almost offended. “I never said I was self-conscious.”
She shook her head in defeat. “Whatever you say.”
He breathed deeply for a moment; as if he just ran twenty miles. “What were we doing?”
She stared off into space again, though when she recalled the memory, he noticed her defenses were heightening when her face shaded over slightly. “Training.”
“Ah,” he said, “yes, that’s right. Let’s teach you how to wield a sword, shall we?”
“Do you really think I can do this?” she questioned, staring down at her sword as an indication.
“As the wise one once said, ‘you can do anything you put your mind to,’” Malachi answered. “The answers, yes, Raven, you can.”
She kept her gaze to her sword.
“The deal?” Malachi reminded her. “Every time you win, you earn a kiss.”
She looked to him. “Why does that sound kind of gross?”
“Stop acting so innocent,” he responded, raising his brows. “You know the word is ‘dirty,’ Raven. And why do you care? We just kissed for like ten minutes.”
“Five,” she corrected, “but who's counting?”
“Apparently you, wall clock,” he stated sarcastically. “Any objections?”
She pursed her lips. “Yes, one.”
He crossed his arms in annoyance. “What is it?”
“I feel like…” she said, “I don’t get a big enough prize. I know from experience it’s hard to win against you.”
He smirked then. “Wow, bargaining, aren’t you?”
She shrugged.
“Fine then,” he said, “I’ll make it worth it. Five kisses and I’ll go easy on you.”
She stared for a moment. “That seems less fair for you.”
He chuckled, shaking his head in disappointment. “Oh, Raven, you don’t know me.” He looked to her then, eyes burning with mischief. “It’s definitely fair for me.”
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*****
It was actually easy to disarm Malachi when he was going easy on Raven…
She had a suspicion that he purposely went kindergartner level on her just so he could get the prize, as well, but she never mentioned it.
“I taught my brother this trick,” Malachi said, holding a hand out to her. “But first, are you afraid of heights?”
She blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “No… why?”
He smiled. “Good, then come here.”
She slowly stepped over to him, and he vanished for a second before reappearing in front of her, lying a large, foam mat on the floor.
“What’s this for?” she questioned.
“You, my friend, are going to jump off the beams on the ceiling for me.”
“Hold on…” she said, “what?”
“I know you heard me, Raven,” he answered. “Don’t worry, it’s only twenty feet up.”
A rush of hysteria washed through her, and she felt like laughing maniacally. “You make that sound like I won’t break my legs.”
“Oh, I know you won’t,” he said a little too confidently.
She backed away a step. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
He gave her a look. “If it wasn’t, why would I try it?”
“To make me handicapped,” she answered. “So, I can’t run.”
He put a finger up, about to say something but caught himself. “Actually, that would be a good idea, but I won’t try it.”
“No,” she answered sharply, “you won’t.”
He gave her a small smile. “I’ll catch you, okay? Relax.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” She crossed her arms.
“Good question,” he answered. “But you won’t find out until you try it.”
Before she could respond, he caught her waist and threw her to the ceiling, making her scream.
But her fingers automatically caught onto a beam; like another part of her took control for a second.
She blinked.
My enchanted.
It knew how to fight this whole time? Was she secretly a warrior or something?
That could also explain how she could fight firsthand even though she never had before.
Earlier, Malachi and Raven sparred for an hour, and she almost never lost. He clearly was better, though.
He’d been training his whole life.
Maybe her enchanted heightened her reflexes, which could be why he won multiple times.
Because she was far from perfect; she wasn’t like an anime character, killing someone with one punch.
Although, that would be pretty boring.
“Raven!” Malachi called from below her. “Let go!”
She stared down at him for a moment. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
She could see his smile even when he was far below her. “It’s too late now.”
She looked up to her hands which clung onto the wooden beam tightly.
He better have been right, or she’d murder him later; even on crutches.
So, she let go of the beam, watching the world fall out below her like thousands of shooting stars.
And the next thing she knew, her feet were planted on the ground, knees bent as her legs absorbed at the force of falling.
Malachi was next to her, nodding. “Good job.”
She looked to him then, standing, and surprisingly, she wasn’t weak or hurting at all. “I thought you were going to catch me.”
“I was if I knew things were going to go wrong,” he responded.
“How would you know?”
He shrugged. “I’d just know.”
Raven rolled her eyes.
“So, Raven,” he said. “Congratulations, you know how to fight.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Um… I’m pretty sure I don’t know everything.”
“That’s fine,” he said, waving her comment away, “you know the basics, and your enchanted will do the rest. I just had to train you to activate it.”
“So,” she said, “if I punch you right now, will you fly away and hit the wall?”
His eyes glowed with amusement. “You wish. This isn’t anime, Angel; nor is it a superhero movie.”
“So… how do I protect myself?”
He handed her the short, metal pole where the dagger was hidden in. “Your enchanted will know how to use this,” he answered as she took it. “Always keep it near you, hear me? Always.”
“What do I do if it’s not?” she wondered, slipping it into her sock.
Malachi smiled slightly. “Then hand-to-hand combat is the best method. And if you’re on top of a building, you will be able to jump off to another one, or if it’s short enough, you could jump to the ground.”
So, she said, “We’re done training?”
He shrugged. “For now. We might come back here to give you more practice. So, you’re not so rusty.”
“Alright,” she said then.
“One more thing,” he added. “I know you like daggers, but if you happen to lose it while fighting, or if the bag guy is far enough away from you, use this.” He handed her two small knives with the same carvings in them. “The magic works the same. And here’s a little tip,” he said, winking, “aim for the eye.”
She nodded, knowing from their training earlier that her aim was pretty good, too.
“But, Mal,” she said. “Aren’t you worried that I’d attack you?”
He looked to her. “No, I’m not. And I’d know beforehand if you’re planning on it.”
She looked down to the daggers.
“And Raven,” he added, watching her look at him curiously, “no, this doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be by yourself, hear me? You’re still stuck with me.”
She nodded.
By now, she heard him say that so many times that she was almost unfazed by it.
Almost.
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*****
Twenty minutes later, Raven and Malachi stepped out of the training room, and she would’ve continued down the hall if Malachi wouldn’t have seized her shoulders and shoved her to a granite wall.
She looked up at him with hardened eyes, questioning the gesture, but when she opened her mouth, he pressed a finger to her lips.
When he took his hand away, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaving a soft seal on her lips seconds later.
“And that,” he said when he pulled away, “was for letting me train you today.”
Her cheeks reddened at his words, but he tipped his head to the other side of the hall. “C’mon.”
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*****
Thirty minutes later, Raven found herself sitting at her favorite booth at Mario’s Diner.
She honestly thought it was her favorite because she sat here every time, and it became a routine.
Malachi was at the car currently, though she honestly didn’t know what he was doing, he just told her to get a booth for them while he got something.
Raven tapped the table impatiently, waiting for a waitress to take her order.
Her stomach felt as if it were digesting itself.
“Oh, hey,” a boy said, his voice oddly familiar, “look who it is. The famous Raven Magicae.”
She looked up to find that boy that Jae introduced her to standing at the head of the table… he had short, white locks that glistened a bright silver in the lighting.
“Oh, hey, Archer,” she said back. “Where’s your friend?”
“He’s working tonight,” he said back, scooting in the booth across from her. “Jae’s been telling him that you’ve gone missing, she’s kind of freaking out. I’m glad to see you’re okay.”
Raven blinked. “About that… is she doing okay?”
“Yeah, just a little worried about you. She said you ditched her at five in the morning yesterday, and she’s worried that a certain someone took you, though she won’t tell Clay who.”
Malachi, Raven thought.
“Tell her that I’m fine,” Raven said, “okay?”
“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Archer questioned. “You’re by yourself. And it’d be nice of you to ease her fears.”
“I…” Raven said, treading carefully, “can’t….”
He blinked. “Why?”
She glanced out the window, noticing that Malachi wasn’t at the car anymore. “Uhm, I’m kind of in a predicament.”
“Alright,” he said, letting it go.
“You should go soon,” Raven said, scanning the room for Malachi, “alright?”
“Hold on,” Archer said, “hold on there, girlie. I’m not done talking.”
She looked to him then, a little annoyance in her expression.
“I know you don’t particularly,” he looked her over, “like me. But just get to know me, just for a night, and if you’re not satisfied, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Archer,” she said, finding her next sentence to be the only thing to get him to leave; he was right, she didn’t really like him, “I already have a relationship.”
“Relationship?” a familiar voice echoed from at the head of the table.
She stilled.
Raven put her face in her hands, cheeks burning when she realized it was Malachi.
“You know what I meant,” she responded.
But when she looked up, Malachi and Archer locked gazes, Mal’s eyes a dark poison.
It almost looked like they were silently battling to the death in their minds, though Archer was human, so she meant that figuratively.
A second later, Malachi picked Archer up by his shirt and shoved him across the room so Raven wouldn’t hear him, leaning to his face and whispering, “Touch her, and you’ll never have fingers again.”
Archer threw his hands up innocently when Malachi let go of his shirt, Archer stepping out of the restaurant seconds later.
Malachi walked over to Raven, scooting in the booth across from her and smiling in amusement while she watched Archer walk down the street.
She looked to Malachi then, brows drawn together. “What did you tell him?”
Malachi’s smile seemed to edge with anger. “I told him to back off. You’re my girl now.”
Her brows raised. “Did I agree to this?”
“You don’t have to,” he stated boldly.
She shot him a look, but he didn’t seem fazed, so she just shook her head in defeat.
She watched him look after Archer after he left, smile so sharp that she could feel it cut her skin.
“Malachi,” she said, watching him look to her, “what did you actually tell him?”
“Why do you care?” he questioned.
She looked him over for a moment, watching his stance.
His eyes were hardened, smile edged with rage, though his muscles were eased.
So, it didn’t seem as if Malachi thought he was a bad person… it kind of seemed as if…
“Malachi,” she said then, smiling slightly, “are you jealous?”
His eyes shot to her then. “No,” he responded almost defensively as if what she said disgusted him.
“Aww,” Raven said, “the big, strong, heartless Malachi is jealous.”
He shot her a look.
“Anyway,” she said, stretching out her arms, “can I go get a breath?”
He gestured outside impatiently. “Be my guest.”
She irritated him… if that was somehow possible.
“Alright,” she said, standing now, “I’ll be back in five.”
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*****
Ten minutes later, Malachi was watching the basketball game on the bar’s TV when Raven walked in the room.
Mal looked to her then, seeing her scoot in, but her expression wasn’t visible.
“You’ve been gone a while,” he commented as she set her hands on the table. “What happened to ‘five minutes?’”
She was silent, just leaned down further, her hair falling over her face, hiding every bit of skin.
He narrowed her eyes.
Hold on… was she doing this… purposely?
Her muscles were tense… and her breathing was slightly short.
And her thoughts were overlapping, he couldn’t understand a single one.
“Raven,” he said in a gentler voice, “you okay?”
Silence.
“Why are you hiding your face from me?”
She still didn’t respond.
“Look at me,” he ordered softly. “Come on.”
She finally spoke. “I’m fine.”
His lashes lowered at her slightly wavered tone. “Did something happen?”
She shook her head.
“Raven,” he uttered softly, “what’s going on? I know something is clearly wrong. Did someone encounter you?”
“No.”
“That was a lie,” he stated. “Why are you hiding you face from me? Can you at least tell me that?”
Was she hiding it because she didn’t want him to see her expression…? or something else?
She never responded.
He silently got out of his booth and sat down beside her, though she didn’t seem to notice.
So, he forcefully caught her chin, tipping her head up before she could respond.
Raven pulled out of his grip, looking down to the table.
But he already saw it.
The dark, purple bruise circled around her eye, puffing the skin slightly so it looked like she was struggling to keep it open.
“Raven,” Malachi uttered, seeing her breathe a little harshly, “what the hell happened to you face?”
She was silent.
“Raven,” he pressed.
“Just some stupid muggers…” she mumbled.
But he got up from his seat, making her look up at him in surprise.
“Wait!” she called. “Where are you going?”
Malachi glanced at her, his pupil swallowing the iris, looking like tunnels into hell.
He was angry.
“I’m going to go teach them a lesson,” he answered, then started toward the front door.
Raven shot up from her seat, catching his arm and looked to him when he stopped mid-stride, glancing at her.
“You can’t get into any more fights, Malachi,” she said then, tugging his arm so he’d hopefully get back to the table. “You do know that beating someone up will get you arrested?”
His eyes somehow grew colder. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll leave no evidence.”
Her whole body stilled when he pulled out of her grasp, making his way further to the front door.
Oh, God… he didn’t mean he’d… kill them, did he?
After the front doors closed behind him, she managed to break out of the icy fear and rushed after him, opening the doors into the dark night.
Malachi was standing on the front porch, blonde hair gently blowing in the breeze.
She stopped next to him, watching him scan the area.
He looked to her then. “Where did they go?”
“They’re gone,” she answered, then narrowed her eyes, “and you can’t kill them!”
His black eyes tunneled into darkness. “Watch me.”
Before he could start walking, she caught his wrist again, making him glance back at her.
“Why are you being this way?” she questioned.
“What way?” he wondered back.
She gestured to him. “You look angry. You don’t seem the type to care, Malachi.”
He turned to her then, cupping her shoulders with his warm hands. “I’m very protective over you, that’s why.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “And possessive,” she answered. “Now let’s go.”
And she half-dragged him back inside, expecting him to dig in his heels to stop her but he never did.
“Who were they?” he questioned her when they got back to the table.
“I said they were muggers,” she stated angrily.
He almost looked bored. “We both know you’re lying, Raven.”
She shook her head.
“Who?” he pressed, voice sharpening so she’d be more likely to answer.
She was silent for a moment.
“Raven.”
“It was those two assassins who keep on encountering me, okay? Happy now?”
Malachi looked her over for a moment, but she pushed him into the booth and sat down next to him seconds later.
“Did you escape?” he questioned. “Or did they surprisingly let you go after hitting you?”
His eyes seemed to darken after that last sentence.
“I escaped,” she answered softly.
Malachi shook his head in disappointment, though at himself. “I need to stop leaving you.”
“I left,” she answered.
“Exactly,” he said, “from now on, you’re not allowed by yourself, hear me?”
She put her face in her hands as a response, though didn’t argue against it.
After a moment, she pulled her hands away. “I did punch one of them in the balls, though. He screamed like a little girl.”
Malachi chuckled at her choice of words. “See? You’re learning. Good girl.”
“Woof,” she muttered.
He laughed softly.
“Oh,” a waiter rushed over to them, “sorry about the wait. I didn’t see you guys.”
“It’s okay,” Raven responded.
“Can I get you anything?” he wondered; pen positioned inches above the pad of paper he held.
“Burger,” Raven said. “The Mario’s one.”
He nodded, somehow knowing what she was talking about.
And why couldn’t she remember her favorite meal…? This was going to bother her…
“Just a glass for me, please,” Malachi said.
He nodded, scraping his pen into the notebook and walked off.
Raven stared down at the table for a moment, feeling her head spin but chose to ignore it. “One of the assassins told me that day you saved me that they’ll keep on coming… That there’s hundreds of them.”
“He’s right,” Malachi responded honestly, making her insides flip.
“I don’t think we can hide forever…” she whispered. “They’ll keep on finding me….”
“And whoever lies a hand on you,” Mal answered, “will die.”
“You seem oddly sure about that,” she answered, looking to him from the side.
“Because I’ll kill them,” he said boldly.
She shook her head. “You’re kind of scary, but in a weird manner.”
He tilted his head to the side. “How so?”
“You killed before for greed… but now you kill for me?”
He was silent.
“Here you are,” the waiter said, setting a plate in front of Raven, the poppy seeds spilling all over the ceramic from the juicy burger, and placing an empty glass in front of Malachi.
“That was fast,” Malachi commented. “Thanks, Ben.”
Ben? Did he have a name tag or something?
Oh, that was right… Mal worked here… though he didn’t seem to have any workdays scheduled since that one day he caught her snooping.
Ben nodded in response, then leaned to whisper, “I’ll make sure to put the employees discount on, too.”
Mal smirked. “Thanks again.”
And he walked off.
Raven stared down at her food almost dazed.
“You okay?” Malachi said, catching her attention.
“Yeah,” she responded, “I think I’m dehydrated. Probably need some water.”
She grabbed her cup of ice water and downed half the glass in one go.
“Wow,” Mal commented, “someone’s thirsty.”
Raven set the cup down, sending him a smile in response, though the dizziness didn’t fade.
It always took a while before the water kicked in anyway.
“Why’d you get just that cup?” Raven wondered.
Mal stared down at it for a moment.
He pulled the cup off the table and lowered it, so it was out of her view. Raven was tempted to look under the table to see what he was doing before he set the cup down, the glass filled half-way with some kind of reddish thick liquid.
“Are you an alcoholic?” she questioned suspiciously.
“This isn’t alcohol, Raven,” he responded.
“Really?” she said. “It looks like a Bloody Mary, just without the celery.”
He looked her over for a moment. “In what you just said, and knowing my race, guess what it is. It’s not alcohol.”
She looked at the glass for a moment, staring at the slight bubbles forming in the liquid.
We can also become a shifter and a vampire.
Vampire…
Her insides flipped.
She swallowed down nausea that swelled up her throat. “You mean… that’s blood?”
“See?” He smirked. “You got it.”
Her heart pounded a little faster. “Whose is it?”
“A cow,” he responded faster than she thought he would.
She blinked. “You mean… it’s not from a human?”
Malachi shook his head. “I only drink human blood if I really have to. A lot of vampires say it’s the best tasting blood beside angels, but I never really had a taste for it.”
“Is that because you’re also a werewolf?” she wondered curiously. “You like animal meat?”
He tipped his head to the side. “I guess? I really just have certain cravings. It’s weird how my body works. It has a craving, and nothing satisfies it unless I eat it as my next meal. It’s a daily thing.”
“So, if you crave blood… and you don’t drink it….”
“I have a high chance of biting someone, yes.”
She looked down to the table. “Am I a vampire…?”
“Nope,” he responded.
She looked to him then. “Angel?”
He shook his head.
“Demon?”
“No.”
“Werewolf?”
“Nope.”
“Then what am I?”
He smiled then. “I told you before, you’ll figure it out.”
“Was that the whole algebra thing?”
He nodded.
She sighed, shaking her head in defeat. “You’re irritating.”
“I knows, now eat your foods.”
She stared down at her plate and began eating her burger.
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*****
After Raven ate her food, not knowing Malachi was watching her while sipping from a straw like his blood was a milkshake, she felt a sudden exhaustion consume her, and she rested her head on the table, lazily watching cars pass the window.
The pain on her eye slowly started dissipating, and she just wanted to close her eyes and fall asleep.
“Getting sleepy, Angel?” Malachi said, a little amusement in his tone.
She moved her head to give him a lazy glare, still resting her cheek on the table when she flicked a breadcrumb at him.
He chuckled in response, getting up from his seat. “I’m guessing that’s a yes.”
After stepping over to her side of the table, Malachi pulled her up and lifted under her knees, holding her to his chest as he stepped out of the restaurant.
“I can walk, you know,” she stated, slightly annoyed.
“I don’t care,” he responded. “I’m carrying you.” When he made it to the front desk, that waiter, Ben, was there, typing on the tablet they used to pay. “Ben, use my card.”
He nodded. “Have a good day.”
And Malachi walked out, Raven in his arms.
“Is he like your butler or something?” Raven questioned. “Why are you trusting him with your card? Isn’t that against the law, too? To not sign receipts?”
“Not with me,” Mal stated. “I’m like a mob boss.”
She giggled at his words, somehow not being threatened by them.
“Mal?” she whispered then. “Are you part werewolf?”
He glanced down at her. “You know the answer to that is, yes, Raven, right?”
Also… why did it smell like blood out here…?
It probably could’ve been the blood he drank. He got some of it on his shirt.
She giggled. “Can you turn into a doggy?”
He chuckled under his breath. “‘Doggy?’” he echoed. “Wow, you’re really tired, huh?”
She gasped as if she just got a smart idea. “Can I ride on your back like a unicorn?”
Why was she suddenly having this giddiness of a child? It didn’t seem normal for her.
He glanced down at her, something coiling inside him. “Are you feeling okay?”
She only snuggled closer, burying herself into him like he was her only source of warmth. “I’m tired…” she responded, “and my head hurts….”
He remembered her black eye from earlier. “We’ll get you checked for a concussion, okay? Right now, you can go to sleep.”
“No…” she whined.
“You just said you were tired,” Malachi responded, laughing softly. “Now you don’t want to sleep?”
“I’m scared…” she whispered.
He stopped walking for a moment, staring down at her she snuggled close to him.
Raven never expressed her fears… Never. She absolutely hated it.
Even though he loved her expressing herself like this…
Something was wrong.
“Why are you scared?” he wondered then, brushing some hair behind her ear so he could see more of her face.
She only shook her head, turning further into him.
“You’re safe,” he murmured, “you know that, right?”
She shook her head again, making his heart wrench.
So, he settled down on the side of the road, holding her gently in his lap as a single car sped past them, dousing them in its cool wind.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered, rubbing her upper arm. “I’ll carry you back, okay? I think you have a concussion, so you need your rest.”
She was silent.
“Raven?”
When he felt her breathing gently against him, he lightly pulled her away from him to see her eyes closed, lips slightly parted.
She fell asleep.
He pulled her back into his embrace, squeezing her slightly to assure her she was safe; even in her dreams… but it was mostly assuring him that she was alright.
After holding her tightly for a moment, he released her a little so he could pull his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing one of the guards and pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hey,” Malachi said into the other line, “Gianni, you there?”
“Yes, sir,” he responded. “Is there something you need?”
“Raven’s injured,” he responded. “I need you to get me Ellie, Pat, and Smith, alright?”
“Right away, sir,” Gianni said, a touch of panic in his tone. “Do you need a car or an escort?”
“No,” Malachi said, “I can carry her. Just have them ready when I get there.”
“Yes, sir.” And he hung up.
Malachi pushed his phone back into his pocket, lifting both himself and Raven.
She moaned in annoyance or pain, he couldn’t tell.
But he still whispered in her ear, “Shhh… it’s okay. I got you.”
And he carried her back home.
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