The Source of All Evil

Chapter Fourteen

Michaela Walker. 

Michaela cleaned up the mess she made, went back to the kitchen to prepare a meal while Rafe was watching her. Mariana and the rest have left, leaving her with Rafe and Kirby. The latter seemed distressed, avoiding looking Rafe’s way, clinging to her as she cooked.

She oddly felt nervous that she was alone with him, conscious of Rafe’s eyes on her as he watched her every move. The fact that he was quietly studying her, humming from time to time, made her feel flustered that she almost salted the ground meat she marinated to make his burger.

“Can you stop?”

“What?” He grinned, showing his perfect white teeth.

“You’re staring too much. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Oh! Was I staring?!” He feigned ignorance, chuckling when she huffed. “It’s just that I noticed you look different than before. Did you gain weight?”

Michaela narrowed her eyes at him, and he slyly remarked. “It’s a compliment, I swear. Your ass looks bigger than before.”

“It must be the wine talking.”

Michaela wasn’t going to fall for his sweet talk. No, she wouldn’t. Definitely not, though its effect was showing on her crimson red face.

“I’m not even tipsy. Tell me, do you still like that guy. . . Umm, James? No, Jaxon?”

She didn’t know how he found out about this. She then remembered that Rafe was there at the coffee shop when she fought with Valerie and Jason.

“Jason is his name. And no, it was just some silly crush. . . Why are you talking about this?”

“Nothing, just wondering if you’re available.”

Okay, he was getting ballsier with his flirting, she thought. Michaela stopped what she was doing, using a cloth to wipe her hands, staring at him. “What is this about? I know, for a fact, you’re not flirting with me right now. You need something, so spell it out.”

He chuckled. “I’m flattered, really. You know me too well.”

“So?” She sounded bitter, her tone of voice laced with disappointment. Rafe probably didn’t notice, though, chuckling as he said.

“There is this party that would happen in around one month from now. I got invited, and I need a beautiful lady to accompany me as my date.”

“When you need something, you sure know how to ask for it.” She slyly remarked, adding. “Are you sure you can afford thinking about some stupid party? What we need to do right now is figuring out what’s wrong with the book.”

“Don’t bother yourself about that. I’ll figure it out.”

Michaela started plating their dinner, reminding him. “I want to be involved in this. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It is my problem as much as it is yours.”

The frown that appeared on Rafe’s face soon disappeared, grinning. “Sure, Hannah. So, are we going to eat or not?”

Michaela rolled her eyes, placing their food on the counter, taking a seat across from him. “Do you want wine?”

“Burgers and wine, I feel so fancy right now. Sure,”

She sighed and went to get a new bottle of wine. She disliked how Rafe had to have the last word, but she missed this part about him. It made her smile. 

“So, what kind of party is it?”

They both moved to the front of house, taking a seat at a corner table in front of the large shop window. The wine helped them relax. Michaela has already removed her apron and button-up shirt, embracing the summer night heat in the white tank-top she bought from a merchant and hunter shorts she borrowed from Malick. 

Rafe, as well, got rid of his heavy warrior outfit. He changed into some black sweatpants made out of a material similar to silk and a blue cotton shirt. Michaela wasn’t surprised to see him in a different outfit once he returned from the restroom, knowing well he must’ve kept a change of clothes in his spiritual bag.

Michaela was leaning on the table, her finger playfully toying with the rim of her wine glass, feeling lethargic for the busy day she had and so relaxed.

They’ve already finished the second bottle of wine, opening the third one.

“I thought you didn’t care about the party,” Rafe mumbled lazily, leaning as well on the table, staring intently at her.

“I don’t,” she said truthfully. “I hate parties and loud places, but I’ve never experienced one in this place.”

She tucked a hair strand behind her ear, taking a sip off her glass, unaware of how seductive to the other she looked. Rafe was watching her in a tensed air, licking his dry lips from time to time. And when she noticed the weird atmosphere, Michaela sat up, looking away and out of the window at the illuminated street.

Rafe cleared his throat, saying. “It’s a royal party in the southern region.”

Though she was tipsy, she still recalled who ruled the southern region. “The Evil Master’s party?” When Rafe nodded, confirming it, she added. “That reminds me, Malick told me that the current Evil Master is a new one, who fought Adrius for his throne. He said that Adrius has disappeared after the fight, presumed dead.”

She noticed how Rafe didn’t look surprised, as if he knew about this long before. Instead of discussing the topic of Adrius’s disappearance, Rafe asked. “Malick is the guy you’re staying with, right?”

“Mn,”

“He gave you a room at his place?”

Michaela snorted, taking another sip of her wine, chuckling. “His house is small, and he has only one bedroom. The poor guy offered me his bed while he sleeps on the floor.”

“You sleep in the same room?!”

Rafe’s voice sounded stern, yet she blamed the wine that clouded her mind, nodding. “Yes, I told you. He’s a nice guy.”

Michaela brought her glass to her lips, but Rafe held her hand down, almost causing her to spill the wine on herself again. “What are you doing?!”

“All this time, you’ve been sharing a room with a man?!” Rafe said through gritted teeth, making her frown.

“Why? It's not mentioned in the book?” She scornfully countered, feeling bitter after she learned that her fate was up to some cursed book. She imagined the amount of detail the story would now have, taking a mental note to check the book later to find out.

When people were under the influence, their senses heighten, even more for those with spiritual powers. While Michaela could still control her emotions, the man sitting across from her couldn’t.

Rafe’s grip tightened around her wrist, pulling her without much resistance over the table, using his other hand to grip her jaw. Michaela’s eyes slightly widened in shock, feeling his cold, rough lips against her own as he skillfully swept his tongue over her lower lip, pressuring her to invite him in. Heat traveled from the pit of her stomach to her chest, her heart beating faster, his scent and breath felt entrancing beyond belief. And when she snapped out of her daze, she opened her mouth to curse him, and Rafe took it as an invitation to slip his tongue in.

She felt too stunned to move, tasting the hint of rice wine, engulfed by the whiff of spices and wood, a scent that inflamed her desire, to the point she gave in control for the experienced man to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted, even more, feeling a wave of warmth wash over her, curling her toes and arching her back in pleasure. Her mind seemed blank, unable to gather her thoughts. 

She has never kissed anyone before, and she imagined how it’d feel like to experience her first. She never thought her first would be in some foreign world, and from someone, she thought of as a friend.

She always thought that drunk people would kiss sloppily due to intoxication, but Rafe’s kiss felt different. It was harsh yet soft at the same time. His lips caressed her own gently as his tongue massaged her own skillfully, forcing her to elicit a suppressed moan.

Hearing herself moan, Michaela used what strength left in her to push Rafe away, finally able to breathe, panting and staring with shocked eyes at Rafe. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were still hooded, sweat formed on her forehead by that passionate act.

She brought her hand to her swollen lips, touching them slightly, feeling as if she’s done something bad and unlawful yet exciting and thrilling. Her eyes were still on Rafe, who looked just as surprised, finally, she managed to say.

“Y-You kissed me.”

Michaela didn’t know what she wanted to hear from him as a response, but sure she didn’t expect straight-up denial and rejection.

“It’s the wine. It got to my head. . . It’s not like I wanted to kiss you.”

After he said it, Rafe looked as if he regretted it. Michaela felt sober, all of a sudden, awkwardly smiling, trying not to show the disappointment and hurt on her face, sitting up. “I-It’s the wine, I get it.”

Rafe stood up as well and held her arm. “No, Michaela. . .”

“Let’s forget about it. It never happened.” She offered, smiling sadly at him, trying to pry her hand away.

Rafe, however, didn’t let go, firmly stating. “I liked it, okay? I wanted to do it, and I did it! I only said what I said thinking that you hated it.”

Michaela stared at him quietly, boring her eyes into his as if she were trying to detect if he was lying.

“Say something,” Rafe whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Either you say something now, or I’ll take it as an invitation to kiss you again.”

Michaela couldn’t think of anything to say, biting her lower lip which seemed to entice Rafe even more, as he lowered his face closer to hers.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to do this.”

His husky voice compelled her to close her eyes. She placed her trust in his words, hoping that he wasn’t lying, teasing her. She liked Rafe. Maybe her judgment got affected by this fantasy world she found herself in and her dependence on him to keep her safe. Maybe by staying away from him for weeks, her feelings grow for him.

Michaela just knew she liked him. Her feelings towards him were special. Too special to ignore.

She waited for that blissful contact, but nothing happened. Michaela’s stomach dropped, thinking the worst was happening and that Rafe was teasing her. And when she opened her eyes, she finally realized what was wrong.

Kirby was now awake, tugging Rafe’s hair to keep his face away from hers. Michaela couldn’t help herself but giggle, laughing harder when Rafe tried to pull it away from him but to no avail.