Her Forbidden Mate

Howling Wind

CAROLINE'S POV

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My arm tingles, my wrist throbbing, my fingers heavy, and unmovable. Lucian drags me up the steps, and I continue to trip as I try to steady my hands. "Goddess, you're a piece of work," I sneer, trying to free my arm from his tight grip, but the pain makes it nearly impossible. Lucian visibly tenses as his steps falter, slowing before he comes to a halt, releasing me. "Excuse me?" he turns to look down on me. If it weren't bad that he's so tall, he's now two steps above me too.

"I said, you are a piece of f*****g work. Doesn't your hearing work?" I bite out, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in my hand.

Lucian's eyes narrowed, becoming cold and hard. His body drops to the step right above mine, his head tilting as he peers down at me through his lashes, "You're right, Careless. I am a piece of work, whereas you are just..." The edge of his lip twists up into a sinister half smile, "No one," he huffs, the disgust in his eyes is a physical blow to the gut.

He's supposed to feel something for me, anything.

Biting back the tears, I strut past him, making sure to brush my shoulder against his, but instead of it spiting him, showing him that I'm not as little as he thinks I am, the feel of his warm skin touching mine sends other kind of shivers erupting through my body, the ache of my broken fingers lessening, the anger clawing at my throat now just a mere tickle. "Do you even know where to f*****g go?" Lucian's taunts, knowing that I have no clue where to go. My eyes flutter shut as I inhale a calming breath, and turn, glaring down at him.

"No," I admit, because it's not a weakness to not know something, but there is strength in admitting that you don't. "Too bad," he drops against the wall, staring up at me, "You have to take me," I remind him, "Do I?" his lips form a pout, his eyes glinting with darkness and spite. "You're such a child," I counter, and head further up the stairs. I don't need him to show me, I can probably find it on my own, or ask the first person I see.

Strutting down the commons hall, I glance back over my shoulder, hoping he'd be there, following me, to come running up to me and apologize, but the hall is empty behind me. I knock into the wall, and face forward, realizing that it isn't a wall, but rather a very large, hard chest. My eyes flick up, meeting icy blue hues, yet they are filled with warmth and kindness. The tall man has his hands on my shoulders, "Are you alright?" he asks, glancing down at the hand that I'm holding with the other. "Sorry," I murmur. He steps back, letting go of me, "You're new," his eyes flick down the length of me, drinking me in.

Scoffing, my eyes roll lightly, "Is it that obvious?", "Yes, because the infirmary is through the kitchen to the back." He deadpans.

I would never have guessed that.

"I'm Zyran," he flips his walnut hair back. Lifting my wrist, I smile, "I'd shake your hand but mine is f****d," I scoff, and his eyes widen, "Right, this way," he gestures toward the kitchen doors. Entering, we're in a small hallway that leads two ways. Straight is the kitchen, and to the right is another door. Zyran stays with me as a healer sets my bones, wraps my hand and gives me something for the pain.

The afternoon is quiet, with a few bodies wandering around after technique class with Professor Walter is over. "You don't have to walk me to my room," Zyran chuckles as he follows me up the stairs. "I'm not, my room is on the top floor too." Oh.

Points to me for embarrassing myself.

"How long have you been here then?" Changing the subject is the only way out of the hole I've dug for myself. "About a month," he huffs. "Do you like it here?", "It doesn't beat living with a mate, but yeah. It's a distraction." But it isn't, it's a lifestyle for us now.

"When did you arrive?" he asks, taking my mind of the burning ache in my calf. "This morning," air blows through my nose. "Well damn, a real newbie,", "Will everyone call me that?" My eyes narrow, and then flutter shut as we reach the top, and I can finally manage to breathe normally. "It's tradition, apparently," his eyebrows hop. "When will it stop?" I hate to admit that it annoys me, but I do have a name.

"When you've proven yourself," He leans against the banister, leveling with me. "You haven't introduced yourself," he quirks a brow, "I'm just the newbie."

What if his kindness is just some sort of sick joke? He says he likes it here, and that gives me the assumption that he's just like Lucian. He might seem kind, but perhaps he isn't. "Come on," Zyran's smile stretches across his face, a dimple forming near his cheek, "I told you my name..." his eyes flick over my face, "...And such a pretty girl must have a name." he straightens, squaring his shoulders, "I can't stand calling you newbie," his bright, wide smile lessens into a smirk, his eyes flicking between mine.

A taste of shyness kisses my cheeks, and I can feel the heat brewing just below the skin. "Caroline," I hold his gaze, and watch as his eyes light up with esteem. His eyes are the ice covering a lake, the thick, hard surface delicate, yet deadly.

"Gorgeous," he speaks the word so softly, so freely, but his icy hues hold immense tension, the limbal rings darkening around his icy blue irises.

Realization ices the heat in my cheeks, drawing me back to reality. Twisting my head toward the stairs, I glance down to make sure no one is there before I meet Zyran's gaze again. "Are you flirting with me?" I hiss in a whisper, and watch as his smile stretches ear to ear, "Are you only realizing this now?" His brow raises questionably. "It's against the law." I hiss, my heart pitter-pattering right against my rib cage, looking for a way out. "No," he scoffs, shaking his head, "Love is. Flirting....well, that's different." he dismisses the subject like we're discussing the weather. "You should get some rest." he nods toward the hall behind me.

I watch as he turns, and trots down the stairs.

He did walk me to my damn room.

A shuddered breath has my chest shaking as it falls, and I slip into my room, taking the meds for the pain that came in a small vial. I sit down on the bed, drinking the vial as prescribed, and lie down. The healer said it might make me tired, but I'm already exhausted from the walk to Calaris, the training and the damn stairs that feel endless.

Drifting off to sleep was not part of the plan, and neither was waking up to complete darkness.

The moonlight shines in through the window, and my eyes easily adjust to the darkness as I manage my way to the door, pulling it open. There's a candle lit right outside of my room, standing on the floor in a bronze little plate. I pick it up, and head back to my own sets of candles, lighting one before I head down the stairs.

The place is eerily quiet except for the rumbling in my stomach.

I barely get down ten steps when someone clears their throat behind me. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach as I twist around, facing the shadow at the very top of the stairs. "You should be asleep, Careless."

Lucian.

He slowly descends the stairs toward me, every step precise, every movement calculated. His body is screaming authority. "It wasn't mentioned in the rules." I shrug, turning my back to him and head down the stairs. He's quick to grab my arm, but the candle almost falls off the bronze little plate, but he's quick to stabilize that too.

"It's not a rule, but it's advised.", "I'm sure eating is advised too." I counter, "For strength and all that," I explain, in case he was too stuck in his own ass to think further.

"You didn't eat?" his eyes narrow, almost like he cares. Almost. "I know where the kitchen is,", "Which is useless," He scoffs, and grabs my hand like I'm a little kid, dragging me back upstairs. I'm too shocked at the gentleness of his grasp on my hand to fight against him, and too engulfed in the warm feeling brewing between our connected palms to care where we are going.

Snapping out of the trance as his hand rips away from mine feels like a brick hitting me in the back of the head.

"Stay here," he says, stopping in front of the first bedroom door on the floor, and disappears into the room. Still clutching the candle, I could hear the wind whistling from outside, the cool breeze flowing through the building, wrapping around me. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin, the feeling of someone watching me has the hair standing up the back of my neck. The wind howls outside, or is it inside?

I can't tell anymore.

My blood runs cold as a door slams shut downstairs, and the bang echoes throughout the building. I peek over the railing of the stairs, searching for any movement, but there is none. A soft glow draws my attention forward, and Lucian stands in the doorway, holding out a pack of freshly baked croissants and a small roll of cheese. "You can make coffee in the dining hall," he shrugs, staring at me with a void of any emotion. I take the food, and before I can thank him, he slams the door shut, and with the gust of wind that forms with the force of the door slamming, my candle blows out, and I'm left in the dark hallway of my floor.

I head back to my room to relit the candle with the on that's already lit, and head downstairs to the dining hall. There's a big fireplace with a pot next to it and a grid over the flames. I fill the pot, and put it on the grid to boil before throwing coffee and one cube of sugar into a mug.

I sit at a table near the big arched window, the view of the dark trees being illuminated by the moonlight brings me a sense of comfort, a sense of relief. The peace reminds me of home, where I'd sit and read at night under the candlelight with no one to bother me. A chair screeches across the hardwood floors, and I jump out of my own, facing the entrance where Lucian now sits, a candle on his own table as he writes something on a paper.