35. AURELIA

Chapter thirty-five

AURELIA

S creaming, I reached for Damian's body, not caring that the man was still near him, and that he knew I would follow.

I held him in my arms, stroking my fingers along his face. The dark man reached for his other boot, grabbing a second knife.

The blood was pooling out of him. Just watching made the blood in my own face drain.

I realized that I cared for Damian and that I didn't want to lose him. I couldn't lose him.

The man moved his body to come down on me. The knife in his hand was crusted, tilted, and high in the air. I moved back, running into a chair. Its wooden legs scraped across the concrete, showing my location. Glancing at Belle, she shook her head. She couldn't use her fire abilities or it would affect Damian. Her energy was also gone, her eyes drooped with weariness as her movements were sluggish.

The man smirked, knowing where I was. I then scowled back, the tension riding my shoulders. Thoughts of Damian being hurt stretched through my mind. Rage encapsulated me, and I wanted the wretched man to die by my own hand.

Anger surged through me, igniting every corner of my being. It seethed within me, fueled by the injustice of his actions, not just against me, but against all who suffered in this despicable trade.

The energy had been drained from my body—depleting. My headache was pounding. The muscles in my arms and legs screamed. The cuts in my skin burned. But I wouldn't let Damian die. And I wouldn't die alongside all those that have also died in this trade.

A shimmering bubble enveloped me like a protective shield, its hues shifting from fiery reds to vibrant oranges. Panic surged within me, my screams causing the bubble to burst forth, coating both Belle and Damian along with me.

The red surged outward, the bubble growing larger, shattering as it broke the bounds that it held, sending the man backward. His body flew, the force taking his control from him as his head cracked against the back of the concrete wall. It hit so hard that I heard a distinct crack echo through the sticky walls. Slumping, his body fell exactly where Damian had fallen earlier, and blood seeped from his wound. His body was still–entirely unmoving.

Watching intently, I waited for his chest to rise and fall.

Nothing.

I had killed him.

I was a killer.

The bubble around me simmered down. I didn't know that I had that much power inside me and that I was capable of doing that. Was it rage or was it because I cared about Damian, or both? If I did, why the sudden change? I couldn't help but think that something stirred within my feelings, watching him come back to me.

The books in my room hardly talked in depth about Scalekind and the Old Religion, and I had never read anything about creating an energy source such as that one. I was starting to realize that I was capable of a lot more than I originally thought.

Reaching down to Damian, I pushed his black hair from covering his face. His eyes winced shut in pain as I frantically pulled out the dagger from his back and immediately covered my hand over his wound. Warm liquid pooled around my fingers as I put pressure on his skin.

Tears brimmed my eyes, spilling over, but crying was the last thing I allowed myself to think about.

Touching my face, I pulled away to find my golden blood exuding from a deep gash on my chin. The droplets on my fingers looked like honeysuckles as they dripped from my face to the skin below mine.

Frantically, my voice broke through the silence, carrying with it a torrent of emotions and frustrations, each word a desperate plea. "You promised you would finish this journey with me. You promised to protect me." I realized that these were just words, covering the thoughts that pounded my head: I cared about him and I couldn't lose him.

Holding him tighter, I cradled him, rocking back and forth. I couldn't go through this journey without him. My heart was collapsing in on itself. My sobs grew louder. Why did I care so much about him? Why did he matter to me? There was something about him. There was more to him than he was willing to share. I knew he had a bigger heart than he was willing to show.

I stood frozen as my blood, like molten gold, spilled from my own wounds, finding its way into Damian's open gash. The tissue surrounding his skin was blanched and palpable, an ugly mess of flesh and scarlet pulsing with pain. Placing my fingers over his wound, I attempted to stop the bleeding.

The lustrous beads of my dragon blood mixed with the red of his wound clung to the intact skin that laid vulnerable from the raw abyss of his slash.

My eyes widened as I witnessed the seams from the injury weaving together, the skin merging, binding the torn tissue. The surface, once uneven, became smooth effortlessly, as if the knife had never impaled his skin, not even a subtle scar remaining.

I was in shock and couldn't move, marveling at what was happening before my eyes. I turned his body over to see his side. The fibers of his skin were still working, closing the wound as if it had never happened. A golden tint added to his skin, my golden dragon blood being transfused with his.

My gaze shifted to Belle, finding her attentive eyes fixed upon me. I could see the reflection of the healing skin in her gold eyes.

"Was that my—"

"Blood," she responded. "That was from your blood."

"But, but, but…" I stuttered, unable to get the words out of my mouth.

"Your blood has healing abilities!" she exclaimed in excitement. It took me a moment to process what was going on.

"Why haven't you told me?" I demanded, frustrated that I never knew about this.

"There are some things that we, respectively, have to let you find out on your own," she said–saying the ‘we', as in Scalekind.

His eyes gently swept open, making eye contact with my own. His eyebrows were furrowed, confusion settled on his face.

"Damian! You're okay!" I giggled through the sobs, still forcing out of my lips. Happiness soared through my body. I enveloped him in an embrace. I couldn't lose him. Hope flooded through me. Holding my breath, I waited for him, needing him to be okay.

He sat up, moving the hair behind my ears. An unfamiliar sensation coursed through me, like a surge of electricity pulsing through my veins, igniting an array of emotions I had never experienced before.

My heart raced as he leaned in closer, our faces inches apart, the anticipation of our lips meeting sending a thrill through me.

"You saved me, my Queen," he whispered, a smile pulling up on the ends of his mouth.

"Again," I gently reminded him with a soft giggle, brushing the tears from my cheeks and smudging the blood on my hand in the process.

It felt like we were the only people in the world. I could feel Belle's presence leave, moving to a different part of the destroyed bar.

His eyes watched my mouth, which he traced with his fingers. They were so soft and sent shivers down my spine. His touch electrified me. The beating of his heart made my body warm, grateful to Ezu 1 that he was still alive. I wouldn't have been able to let him go.

My heart danced with joy, a weight lifted off my chest as relief flooded me upon seeing him alive. Even though I still hadn't processed that it was my blood that healed him, I didn't care how he was saved as long as he was. The thought of losing him made my body want to collapse in on itself and disintegrate into nothing.

The strength had not yet filled his body, but his wound had healed. I thought of when he placed the dagger into my hands, making me stab it through his thigh. The relentlessness that I knew he had, his belief of pain. "Pain is nothing but a mental game. It's only for the weak."

"Damian, pain does not equal weakness. Pain just means that you're feeling something. That you have emotions." He lifted his head, moving his hand to pull my face closer to his. "And emotions are what fuel our power," I stated as his eyes devoured me whole, a glimmer of light I hadn't been able to see prior.

1. Ezu (Eh-ooh): Heaven