6

~Aspen

Both Oliver and I are left speechless.

I try not to look at him, to reveal anything. If Kastriv knows I am a Demon, who knows what he could do...He claims to believe others like me are not dangerous, but that does not mean he can be trusted.

Oliver let's out a choked laugh. "Aspen is not a Demon."

"The spirits information may not always be reliable, however, this I am certain about," Kastriv says lowly.

If Kastriv is so confident in his assessment, what is he going to do? He clearly offered me that job knowing what I am, but is that his sole motivation?

"And why would I marry something I hate so much?" Oliver questions.

His arrogance is slipping away, although he retains that irritating smile, trying to disarm Kastriv, to make the Noble believe him.

Kastriv's eyes narrow. "Because enslaving one is more satisfying then killing them."

I can sense Oliver's panic as his fingers curl up against his palms. He can't physically intimidate Kastriv, so mentally, he is shifting through options, through lies to blatantly spew in hopes he can scramble back control.

"I can prove to you she is not a Demon," Oliver says suddenly.

Kastriv appears more doubtful than me. "How so?"

Oliver grabs my arm in a tight grip, holding it out. "Demon's bleed black, but Aspen bleeds red, like a true Territory One member."

I frown, not understanding what he's saying, until he reaches into his pocket and reveals a small pocket knife, which he doesn't hesitate in slicing down my arm.

"Ah!" I yelp, pushing away from him as pain lances through me, the stinging sensation followed by a powerful burn, bright scarlet blood immediately flowing from the wound.

Oliver looks triumphant. "See? Pure red blood."

"You cut her?" Kastriv tenses, looking so stunned with shocked, watching the blood dribble down my wrists, my fingers and to the floor, where a small puddle is gathering.

My quivering knees give out from under me, as I try to supress the waves of naseua that roll over me.

"I have proven she is not a Demon," Oliver announces.

Kastriv kneels down to my level. "You have proven nothing. That is an old tale that has been disproven numerous times. In fact, it was created by Demon's themselves as an act of self-preservation, although I figure you know that already."

I didn't even know that. It makes sense though, that Oliver would hide such a trick from me, so I couldn't use it against him at any time.

Oliver's eyes widen. "I...No-"

Kastriv seems unbothered by Oliver's excuses, focusing on me and how I'm bleeding out all over the floor. "She needs to be taken to a nurse."

"I can tend to her." Oliver kneels down also, grabbing my good arm. I don't have the energy to pull away.

Kastriv stands suddenly, taking Oliver with him. I watch with widened eyes as the Noble grabs him by the front of his shirt, shaking him a little.

"If she dies, or suffers anymore pain, I will kill you in the most vicious way possible. Do you understand?" Kastriv growls.

For the first time in my entire life, I'm seeing Oliver scared.

"I will take her to the nurse," he insists, failing to hide the panicked edge to his voice.

Kastriv lets him go rather roughly. Oliver stumbles back, rubbing his chest uneasily. When he looks down at me, it's clear he's realising how façade is falling apart, and he can't come back from it.

"Don't come looking for her. She will decide on her own free will whether she wishes to return here," Kastriv growls, grabbing my good arm, helping me to standing, before the world around us suddenly starts to dissolve.

My eyes squeeze shut as my stomach drops, the floor opening up from under me, plunging us into darkness.

All I can do is cling to Kastriv and allow silent prays to fall past my lips, before my feet are touching ground again, and my eyes tentatively blink open.

Kastriv has used whatever strange magic he has to transport me into a small, dark room.

I whirl around, panicked.

"Where's the nurse?"

"I've tended many wounds in my life time. Sit up here and I will stich this up," he murmurs, motioning to the table in the centre of the room.

I stare at it, horrified. He's going to stitch my wound up, which is now dripping onto the linoleum floor?

"Why not take me to a nurse?" I ask breathily, watching him opening various cupboards, pulling out an assortment of medical supplies.

"Questions will be asked, and rumours will circulate. I thought there would be less consequences on you this way, for if you decide to return to him," he explains, back still turned to me.

My eyes flutter closed. That's a relief.

"Thank you, Kastriv," I murmur, hoisting myself up onto the table, letting my legs dangle.

I watch silently as he prepares what he needs. It's easier to worry about how adept he is with his medical abilities, but I'm not in the state of mind to protest.

"Drink this," he instructs, handing me a small cup filled with an unfamilar light blue liquid.

I tilt it around. "What is it?"

"It will take some of the pain away. Drink all of it." Kastriv turns his back again, looking as though he is sanitising something. I shiver. My arm may have been slit, and I may still be bleeding out against the towel he propped under me, but I'm still apprehensive about being stitched up.

"It's not alcohol, is it?" I take a deep breath, noting it smells strong, although I can't determine what it actually is. Oliver has never let me touch alcohol in my life.

Kastriv's expression reveals nothing. "All that matters is it's strong, and it will hit you quickly."

Sighing through my nose, I touch the rim of the cup to my lips, before tossing it back, swallowing despite the bitter taste.

Kastriv approaches where I sit, carrying a short metal tray with him, the contents sitting upon it making my stomach turn. He rests it beside me, before adjusting my arm.

"Will you bite your tongue, or do you need something to bite onto?" he asks distractedly, pouring some clear liquid onto a cloth before running it gently around the wound.

I wince at the burning feeling it leaves in it's week. "How bad is this going to hurt?"

"Hopefully not as bad once the drink kicks in, but it will not be pleasant." He glances at my face, examining my expression.

I sigh tightly. What other choice do I have? "I will be fine."

Adjusting slightly, my head starts to spin, leaving me blinking, coming to terms with the unfamiliar feeling.

"Woah, I can feel it all of a sudden," I mumble, pressing my palm into my forehead.

Kastriv suddenly pinches my thigh and I yelp.

"Hurt?" he questions, gaze darkening as I clear my throat, trying not to become too wrapped up in the intensity of it.

"A little, but less than usual," I mumble. The sting is swallowed by numbness immediately, although I get the sense that it's not going to wash it away completely, as takes his needle between his fingers.

He watches me, the steadiness about him keeping me from wavering. "Alright, I'm going to do a few stiches. Are you ready?"

"No. But do it." I squeeze my eyes shut.

Kastriv doesn't hesitate, drawing the needle through my skin, beginning to thread my skin back together.

"Ah...fuck that hurts so bad." The drink doesn't feel as though it has done anything, so I would hate to know what the pain would be like without, because it's so overwhelming I could throw up.

Kastriv's gaze flickers up, riddled with concern and concentration. "I know, just breathe."

He does it again, brows creasing as he focuses. I grit my teeth, a hiss of pain passing through them. My head is spinning, Kastriv's face starting to swirl in my vision.

"I think I may pass out," I whisper.

"You won't, just focus on anything else," he murmurs.

Blinking to clear my vision, I focus on the fine edges of Kastriv's face, about the subtle lines that form around his eyes and brows as he concentrates on stitching my wound.

I never dreamed I would be so close to a Noble like this...

The needle digs into my skin again, and I jump, other hand coming out to grip Kastriv's shoulder for stability. I don't bother pulling away, either, gripping the tight muscle as I sway unevenly.

Kastriv releases a long, slow sigh, but doesn't say anything.

"That fucker cut me. With a knife," I gasp out, watch the blood streaming down my arm, pooling on the towel.

"I can assure you he will regret it," Kastriv growls lowly, threading the needle through my skin again.

A choked sob forces it's way from my throat, tears starting to stream down my face, dripping onto my shirt. Kastriv appears calm, although his eyes deceive him. It's as if he is feeling this pain with me.

"No, he won't." Oliver never suffers the consequences of his own actions.

"I'll make him."

I summon a deep breath. "I have to go back to him."

Kastriv's jaw clenches as he draws his needle through my skin again, pulling taut. At this point, I'm so numb, I hardly feel the pain, although it still echoes in the back of my consciousness, reminding me it's going to come creeping back.

"No, you don't," he says quietly, his tone dark and rough.

"It's not just about him. It's about my mother too," I remind him. My mother orchestrated my entire marriage to Oliver, and would be more than displeased if I decided to step away from the life she carefully constructed.

The needle glides through my skin again.

"Quiet now. We will speak when this is done," Kastriv murmurs.