Darkness Rising

CHAPTER [ 4 ] CURSED BARGAIN

 A gentle breeze danced across Lenore's flushed cheeks, helping to focus her disoriented mind. She squinted against the sunlight streaming in between the fluttering curtains.

She was alive.

As if a reflex, she pressed her hand to chest, needing to confirm the truth. There it was – the steady and unrelenting beat of her heart. A fresh stream of emotions flowed through her, relief being the strongest. Lenore had made it back from the edge of death. Her stubbornness and resentment had fulfilled the childish claim she had made in her dying moments.

Lenore had defied the will of Arkaydian. She had survived as promised. Now, whether that was by her own power or lucky happenstance, she couldn't say. And it wasn't the right time to wonder about it. Being alive was nice and all, but that didn't mean that her situation or circumstances were any better. 

It was obvious that the stranger had brought her somewhere safe. Lenore turned her face away from the open window. The room was bland, the only splash of color seemed to be the blue blanket draped over her. There weren't any pictures or trinkets laying around to give any inkling about who lived here. There was only the bed and a small dresser with a mirror attached.

It was almost as if no one had occupied it before her. Or there was the more unsettling possibility – that they had cleared away everything to keep her in the dark. The thought did nothing but make Lenore anxious. She needed to leave. Perhaps returning to her small apartment near the university would be fine as long as she didn't remain there long.

She began to tap her finger against her chest; a nervous habit. Lenore stiffened when she realized that she wasn't bandaged, considering the injuries she received that was strange. Unable to stop herself, Lenore reached for the space that was hollowed out to retrieve the Blessing.

Her fingers met solid flesh.

The wound was healed, though the small patch of skin was tender like a bad sunburn. Confusion and suspicion swirled through her thoughts. From everything that Lenore was taught it should be impossible to heal this fast without the assistance of divine power. But all that remained was a patch of raised skin in the shape of a broken circle.

Lenore traced the narrow line with trembling fingers, clenching her teeth as anger gripped the edges of her consciousness. Dark memories – fresh memories flashed through her mind. The pain she experienced was nothing when compared to the depth of betrayal and grief she faced. She had lost everything – and was raised by the very person responsible. The enemy was so close and she had never known like a complete fool.

Everything about this was twisted and disturbing the more Lenore dwelled on it. Her stomach revolted, the urge to gag clogging up her throat as an acidic flavor coated the back of her tongue. This whole situation was beyond fucked up.

Lenore turned her face toward the window and breathed in deep through her nose, trying to regain some sort of control. It wasn't the time for her to lose it.

"Not yet," she whispered.

Her mind turned to other thoughts – to the more important and solvable matters. The fact that Lenore was healed from her injuries, broken leg included. All that remained was minor aches or pain, which she was certain would be completely forgotten in a few hours. This healing wasn't gifted to her by the grace of any god either. Lenore was certain of that. The longer she thought about it the more certain she became.

The one she was indebted to was her stranger.

He was no ordinary man – far too beautiful and with an aura that rivaled the Apostle's she had met. But it was hard to imagine that haughty man serving under someone. She nibbled on her lip. The only component for her miraculous recovery had to be the stranger's blood. It was disturbing but it was the clearest memory she had before slipping into unconsciousness. It must be the key to her sudden return to good health.