Chapter 11

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Inferno

     "Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" Inferno demanded as Rouhem walked in with two pillows and a fluffy blanket. His room was supposed to be next to hers. 

     "You didn't really believe we would stay in separate rooms, did you?" he raised a brow before plopping the pillows and blanket down on the wood floor. God, he was frustating!

     Inferno sat on the edge of the firm mattress. "Hope? Yes. I am not a child. You are not here to babysit me!" To make a point, she threw a pillow as his face. Bullseye!

     He added the pillow to his pile with a little smirk of satisfaction that she was beginning to know all too well. She hated how it only served to enhance his stunning face. "If you were a baby, I would take you over the knee and give you a good spanking!" 

     Inferno bounced to a stand and pointed a finger. "Just you try it, and you'll be the one getting spanked!" 

     He crossed his arms over his chest. Those lovely, strange eyes were dark with unsaid words she refused to recognize. "Now you are downright trying to seduce me... It's working..." She couldn't tell whether the smoke in his tone was mocking or authentic. 

     "Me? Seduce you?" she scoffed. "You wish!" Why was there a little voice inside her head that called her out on her own lies? 

     He ran a hand over his glossy curls, inadvertently displaying the lovely stretch of his taught, bulging muscles. "And if I said I did?" 

     Inferno froze. Something in way he said it caught her off guard. "You'd be just about as insane as I am. That is saying something!" 

     He chuckled. Her knees weakened. "Haven't you learned by now? The only way we have survived this long is because I am." 

     "Yeah, well..." Inferno mumbled, "you look like Frankinstein's monster!" And with that, she strode into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. 

     Inferno took a deep breath before gazing into the mirror, which was framed by a soft green (a common theme of the entire room). She swallowed at what she saw. Deathly-excuse the pun-pale skin. Dark veins. Just about as sick as she felt on the inside. 

     Walking across the tiny tiles, she twisted the knob in the shower, releasing a spray of water she hoped to warm soon. 

     With careful measure, she undressed, hissing under her breath at every strain that seemed to lash against her back, where the long jagged scar lay. Until she was fully bare, she refused to watch her reflection. 

     Months prior, she had been in Glamour with her dearest Annika. The girl-once slave-had been fighting a war her entire life for the people of Might Empire and Animal Kingdom. Inferno was glad to provide help when she did, having the embedded desire in her soul to protect the one girl who had seen past all her bullshit. But in the process, Inferno had been hurt bad, by a mad man who craved only others' pain. 

     With one quick swipe of his blade, the mad king-King Soren's daddy-had removed one of her wings in a matter of seconds. All she could remember was a pain powerful enough to produce stars in her vision. Having been stabbed already, she was bleeding profusely and in no shape to defend herself.  At that terrible moment, she was weak and helpless. She could do nothing but bleed to death. And she did. Die that is. Only by the mercy of Annika who had to ability to bring back the dead did she return. 

     Annika was successful for a little while. But Inferno immediately felt the repercussions of her ressurrection. The scar left behind by the loss of her wing was darkening to an unhealthy shade. Even her other wing began to wilt and wane. Her strength and abilities have continued to dissipate. She knew this was more serious than a fleeting sickness. This was death coming to collect what had been stolen from them: Inferno's life. 

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