The Enchanting Rapture (#1)

Chapter 11

Soren

     What the hell had Soren gotten himself into?

      They had trekked for many more calm hours before Soren deemed it mostly safe to stop. 

      The overcast no longer bloomed with a soft glowing shine. It was so late that daylight could not possibly creep past the vast darkness of the infinite sky. Stars twinkled in the lack of day, flaunting their grandeur no creature could ever live to possess. Their only competition was right beside Soren. 

     Her elegant body lay soundlessly against the forest floor less than a foot away. The curves and dips of her shape were only clear if Soren focused past the pitch-black. They had not built a fire due to risk of exposure, but he disliked how it forced her to endure the chill. Soren desired to warm Annika's shivering frame with his naturally heated skin but knew it to be too dangerous of a move. So instead of intimate contact, Soren opted to settle his cloak onto her, instantly morphing Annika into a size so deceivingly trivial. 

     The insects made their presence known with the tune of night as the silence stretched out. A delicate breeze shifted in the air, raising a subtle coolness to his skin that was noticeable but also bearable. 

     Annika's breath was light and airy, just like her. Soren was not quite sure if she was asleep. A part of him wanted her awake, and another wanted her slipped under a spell of slumber. 

     A permanent awareness was always draped against Soren, so energizing yet exhausting. It provided a blanket of security and a burden. There was not a moment that Soren was not well informed of his surroundings. Each noise set off a internal alarm, one which in turn blared until he knew the mysterious disturbance to be harmless.

     Having to undergo the training assigned by Zyhed, it was nearly impossible to be relaxed. Hell, even sleeping was a chore. The chance of being attacked while sleeping tripled, and that also tripled Soren's anxiety. His habits had gotten worse once Annika came along, because not only did he have to watch himself now, but Annika was also his responsibility. 

     Soren decided early on that her health was much more vital than his. The decision was part of an instinct Soren has never questioned. 

     He looked over at her body and knew she was unconscious. Each breath was even and smooth, nearly peaceful. Annika's frame was faced away from Soren, so he could not see her profile. 

     He could vividly see the image of her resting features. Damn, she was so beguiling that sometimes Soren could not believe it. There was an elegance about her that soaked up the light around her. A natural spirit of youth clung to her aura, making the world so much more sightly.

     Under her delicate skin lay a strength, a power that was impatient to be released. Soren could sense it every moment he spent with Annika. 

     But there were also times where Soren could almost not bare to meet her stormy blue eyes. Horrors danced across those orbs, a terrifying illustration of her slave experiences. An awful weight would come upon her shoulders, like a god from above was cruelly leaning their weight on her. She would seem so tired, so afraid, and so damn vulnerable. The need to hold her and sooth her scars became overwhelming at moments. 

     In a matter of days, Soren had come to see Annika as his. His to protect. His to nurture. His to fulfill. Everything about her was so raw and powerful, everything was so flawed and perfect. She was a mystifying anomaly that captured Soren in an unrelenting spell of allure. The charm casted by an unaware Annika had kept him chained to a desperation that reached a whole other level of need.