Collection Of Dark POVs. Vol. 1

The Princess And Her Enemy

She huddled up against a corner, two men advancing on her, both holding very sharp swords.

 One of the men laughed. 

"Ah, it's the princess!" 

"Pretty little thing, ain't she?" chimed in the other. 

She looked around desperately, for a shark of glass, or an abandoned dagger, but with no luck.

"What do you reckon we do with her? Kill her?" 

"I hear there's quite a large reward for her capture." 

She glared at them, trying to hide the fear she felt. "Leave me alone, you worthless scum." 

They both burst out laughing. "She has guts, I'll give her that." 

"Maybe killing her doesn't sound so bad." 

But then a shout filled the air. A young man ran over. "Sorry gentlemen, but she's mine." 

They both turned to him, pointing their swords at him. 

The young man shrugged. "Well, on your own heads be it." 

They began to clash swords, but the young man had the advantage. 

He stabbed one of the men in the gut, and slit the other's throat, causing blood to spill everywhere. 

Her savior turned to face her, giving her a long look at him. 

He was tall, very handsome, with dark eyes, and messy dark hair. 

He wore a black uniform, with only one glove, which held a sword dripping with blood. 

She grabbed one of the fallen men's sword, and pointed it at him, for she recognized him. 

He was one of the men who brought her here to be captive in the first place. 

He rolled his eyes. "Come princess, I'm saving you!" 

"And why should I trust you?" 

"Because you have no choice!" 

He had a point. 

He strode over to her, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her along. 

They ran, trying to escape the war that raged around them. 

They ran past corridors, men battling, bodies on the floor, blood everywhere

"Why did you rescue me? I thought you wanted me dead in the first place." 

He snorted, his hand still latched to her wrist, pulling her along. 

"Because bringing back a long lost, presumed dead princess, back to her people, means gold." 

But she could tell he was lying. She could see it in his eyes. 

She stood her ground, forcing him to stop and face her. 

"Your lying. What's the true reason?" 

His lips curved upwards. "You really want to know?" 

She nodded. 

His dark eyes began to search hers as if seeking her soul. 

"Because I'm madly in love with you,"  he said smirking.

But she could also see his eyes. 

And he wasn't lying.

She gazed back at him, slightly startled. 

He grabbed her wrist for the second time, and began running, forcing her to follow. 

"We need to leave. Hurry." 

They ran and ran, as though the Devil himself was chasing them. 

But then she stopped abruptly for the second time, again, making him face her again. 

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Then she spoke. 

"Why?" 

He smirked. "I had a change of heart." 

She stood there, eyes locked on his. 

A look of longing flashed in his features, but he cleared it away in a blink of an eye, making her wonder if she saw it at all. 

He took a few steps forward, stopping only a few inches away from her, his dark eyes still searching hers. 

He lifted an ungloved hand, and slowly, eyes still not leaving hers, tilted her chin up. 

She caught her breath. 

A small smirk danced on his lips, which he lowered to meet hers. 

He kissed her with surprising gentleness, his hand roughly gripping her chin. 

Her hands began to tangle in his hair, bringing him closer and closer. 

Their kiss went deeper and deeper, longing, and desperation fueling it. 

And so there they stood, a princess kissing her enemy, while war raged around them.