Taken

Chapter 15 (Part 1)

The sound of a door closing had my eyes snapping open.

"Awake, little dryad?" Silas asked, his booted footsteps making their way into the room telling me had must have been up for a while. "Good. Get dressed, we need to head out shortly. Breakfast is on the table."

I turned my head into the pillow, muffling the groan that escaped at how stiff my neck felt from sleeping with my head turned uncomfortably all night. At least the rest of my body felt better.

Pressing my hands into the soft mattress, I pushed myself up as I turned under the duvet that covered me. As I began to sit up, my eyes found Silas picking a berry out of a bowl that sat on the small table pressed up against the wall. There were a few plates holding both sweet and savory options on it.

Cool air hit my bare back and shoulders, causing my eyes to widen as my hand darted to stop the duvet from slipping any lower to reveal my bare body. While one hand held it in place, the other searched the bed for the towel I had wrapped around me last night. It was nowhere to be- my eyes found it thrown over the edge of the tub.

My attention snapped to Silas when he dropped the bag holding our clothes onto the bed by my feet.

Snippets flashed through my head of his hands running down my body and caressing my bare cheeks. My hands tightened on the duvet as my cheeks heated. Not the ones Silas had run his palms over.

"Don't worry, I was strictly professional," he reassured, noticing the embarrassment painting my cheeks as I clutched the covers to me. "I also finished healing the injury on your side."

My lips parted in surprise as I watched him open the bag and put something inside. Turning my body, I moved the duvet to take a look at the wounds that were already healed for the most part. My eyes widened as I caught sight of my skin. Though the thin scars that had already healed where glass had just grazed me were still there, where large and jagged scars should have formed from the deeper wounds that required more time, there was smooth, unmarked skin.

"Thank you, I feel much better..." My voice trailed off as an intrusive need to voice a question I was reluctant to raise, rose to the tip of my tongue.

"What?" Silas asked, catching my hesitance as I continued to marvel at my unblemished skin. 

"Is it possible..." My tongue darted out to wet my lips. "Could you heal my other scars?"

"Like the ones on your shoulder?"

My jaw clenched. I forced my eyes to remain on his as I gave him a small nod.

"No," he breathed out, causing my eyes and shoulders to fall. "I can only help with wounds that are in the process of healing. The ones on your side were nearly done, but the scars on your shoulders have long been healed."

I glanced at him, finding the same pity on his face that his voice reflected. "It's alright. Thanks."

Tucking the duvet under my arms, I held it to my chest as I pulled the bag toward me. As I ruffled through it to pull out my clothes, I felt his eyes on me as a tense and awkward silence fell.

"Can I ask what caused them?" He asked, breaking it.

"No." I didn't look his way as I pulled out my underwear, a white blouse, and dark pants.

It seemed he wasn't satisfied with the answer his request received. Not that he needed to ask. It appeared he already knew what had caused them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him cross his arms as he hummed, nodding deceptively. "Then can I ask why someone used your flesh to put out smokes?"