Banished?
Lyra was surprised by the revelation. Would this man be considered a rogue, then? How would she determine his allegiance? He despised demons to his core. Alpha Viktor is regarded as a close friend, even if it may look one-sided. Leo was not the type to share his life any further as he looked toward the window that emitted some light from the streets. The forlorn expression spoke volumes before it disappeared behind his indifference.
Home. Was Leo trying to return to his home? She envied him that he even had a home to return to. Her eyes drifted to her clenched fists.
"You should rest now," Leo finally spoke. He stood up but felt a hand holding him back from moving away. He shifted to look at the frantic expression in her eyes.
"You are not leaving, are you?" The panic in her tone was high. She feared he would disappear if she were to let go. She squeezed his hand urgently.
He sighed in defeat, closing his eyes. "No, I am not."
"Good," she said, relieved by his reply, and relaxed with a small smile.
Realizing she had been holding his hand longer than usual, she blushed while freeing him from her grip. Mindful not to touch her flushed cheeks that had been treated, she clenched her hands against the sheets, trying to steady her racing heart.
Leo placed the bottle on the chair beside the bed and strode back over to the table that had their meal, which grew cold, and a water basin. He washed his hands to clean the excess ointment and, fifth, and then proceeded to remove his shirt that had blood from the men he had bludgeoned nearly to death. He had barely held back his punches, unsure if they would've survived if he continued. His expression darkened as his back faced the bed, concealing his inner turmoil.
Lyra's eyes followed Leo as he walked over to the table, only to widen in embarrassment as he undressed. This woman couldn't catch a break! She swiped the bottle and started drinking the contents. She managed not to cough but hissed at the bite. She realized it was more potent than the mead she had drunk before and was feeling the buzz it gave, relaxing her tensed muscles.
After a while, her tired eyes began to show as she swayed, succumbing to the comforts of sleep. Her head fell on the pillow as she curled to the side, clutching the bottle nestled in her arms.
Leo turned back to see her settled and asleep. His bare chest reveled in toned muscle and experience from wars. His pants hung to his hips as he made his way back to the bed, revealing the V-line dipping to the hem of his pants. He took the bottle from her snug embrace and brought it to his lips, only to click his tongue in annoyance.
Lyra had emptied the rest of the whiskey he procured from Viktor's stash in his study. His brow twitched as he glared at the sleeping drunk before him. At least she slept peacefully. By dawn, she would regret drinking the contents in one sitting.
Her peaceful features were visible as she lay there; the weariness and stress had vanished, and all that remained was the steady rise and fall of her chest. Leo placed the empty bottle on the floor and sat in the chair as he studied her sleeping form.
Their travels was nearing their end, and he was relieved to finally return home after being exiled. A simple exchange of sending her to the archangels and redeeming his grace.
However, a knot formed deep in his chest. Was it regret? Guilt? Why should he feel any remorse? There were no feelings between them and his mission. He doesn't know anything about this woman, nor should he ever consider it. His hand grazed his beating chest, and he blinked in confusion; he couldn't comprehend the complexity of this strange emotion.
A small whimper broke from his reverie as his gaze returned to Lyra, who began to twist and turn disturbed. Her delicate features contorted in discomfort as beads of sweat formed on her forehead.
"No…mph…no more," Lyra mumbled as her breathing quickened.
Another nightmare.
Leo wasn't surprised since this was becoming a common occurrence. The only remedy that seemed to calm her was his presence, which annoyed him. He wanted to keep his distance from her, but by the stroke of fate, he ended up once again in her web.
"No…make it stop."
Leo gently placed his hand on the top of her head and whispered, "You are safe, Lyra. No one can harm you now."
The gentle caress of his touch trailed to her cheek, and with that, her breathing calmed. A stray tear fell from the side of her eye as his thumb wiped it away. For someone as strong-willed as her, she was so vulnerable in this state. The wounds may have healed, but the soul has yet to piece itself back together from the trauma.
Leo pulled the blanket over her sleeping form before settling back in his seat. He was content with the arrangement and didn't want to encroach on her space. Despite his exhaustion, he didn't need much rest. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms to meditate on his next move.
Little did he know, her nightmare never dissipated.
In the raging turmoil, Lyra was looped in the same scene as before. The battle, the Demon King, the Archangel, and her.
Every moment she witnessed the archangel descends onto the demon, her perspective shifted into that of Demon King at the moment when the angel is about to strike her down. Fear coursed through her like a raging river. Feeling powerless, she looked into the eyes of the archangel, who had his hand wrapped around her slender neck.
"You are safe now, Lyra," Leo's voice echoed in her mind as her heart skipped a beat. "No one can harm you now."
Leo.
Filled with determination, she gripped the hand that was choking her. She was in control. She gnashed her teeth as she used all of her strength to free herself from the archangel's hold. She balled her other hand into a tight fist and slugged the helmet as hard as she could. The impact sent the helmet flying, and the archangel staggered back a few paces away. His white, glistening hair fanned out, obscuring his face from her.
The air crackled with the intensity of the battle, and they both faced one another in the crater. Lyra felt the air fill her lungs as she breathed, standing back up and finding mobility in her limbs.
The archangel had yet to face her as his hair swayed by the wind with a small glimpse of his golden irises.
Lyra coughed as she rubbed her neck. Leo's voice ringing in her ears brought strength to her resolve as she squared her stance.
However, the moment the archangel faced Lyra, her heart plummeted. The shock as the figure before her was unmistakable.
Leo?
Golden chains sprang from the soil beneath her and wrapped around her wrists, pulling her to kneel before him. her heart pounded as he approached her. his wings expanded to reveal his ethereal glow. Was this the same man that rescued her? he seemed… different. She didn't have time to bask in his handsome state as he materialized his weapon of choice, a chain-like polearm with long blade with a deadly edge, pointing at her chest. Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened.
'Does he not recognize me?'
'Leo! Please stop!'
"For the greater good of the realm. I sentence you to death," Leo solemnly spoke. raising his blade before striking down with full force.
Lyra screamed as she felt a searing pain in her chest, the sensation of the blade piercing through her flesh. Arms wrapped around her, but she frantically flung herself away from her assailant. Distraught, she threw punches in any direction until she felt hands gripping her wrists and pinning back on the bed.
"Lyra!—"
"No! Get away from me!" Lyra was inconsolable. She flailed her body like a fish but was pinned again by a heavy mass over her waist, locking her legs in place.
"Lyra! you're having a nightmare! Wake up!" Leo called out to her. Her eyes were glued shut as sweat coated her frantic state.
Lyra opened her eyes only to shriek in horror as the last image she saw was that of being slain by the very person pinning her down. Fate was cruel indeed, as her night terrors turned her only solace into an addition to her torment.
She squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting her impending death. She could still feel the sensation of the blade slicing into her chest, the hatred in those golden orbs. But nothing came.
"Breath, Lyra. Just breath," Leo said calmly.
He released her wrists as he pressed his forehead to hers. With a gentle caress, he wiped the tears from her eyes.
"You're safe," Leo lulled, reminding her where she was. It was still dark outside, and the room was cold with the lack of a fireplace. The warmth of his breath and the enclosed space of his entire body was on top of her the warmth to her entire body.
She eventually blinked away the tears as she stared back at Leo. Her dreams were becoming more vivid by the night and now Leo was included. She didn't want to sleep—not after experiencing the pain that felt so real.
After a long and calming interval of his lull and her steady breathing, she eventually calmed down. He shifted to his side breaking away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. Lyra didn't dare move an inch, only staring blankly at the ceiling. If it wasn't for her steady heartbeat, Leo might have thought she was frozen.
"Do you want to talk about you dream? You never mentioned it before," Leo broke the silence. No response came from her.
Her eyes unblinkingly veered to his red ones. Would he believe her? she wouldn't know unless she tried. The worse he could do was call her crazy or comical. This night terror took a toll on psyche, and she was beyond exhausted. Sleep evaded her and her strength depleted. All she could do was stare at him.
He was stumped by her blank stare. He preferred her energetic remarks or any emotion at all.
"Where do I begin," she murmured. She didn't have the courage to describe her moment of being slaughtered by Leo, so he would have to suffice of what she has to say for now.
"For starters, how long has this been happening?" His eyes flickered with intrigue, sensing he was making progress.
"It's…," biting her lips. "It's all I can remember since I was a child. I've been plagued by these dreams all my life to no end. No remedy or healer could stop them," she rubbed her eyes in frustration. She described vivid images of the war and bloodshed. Her childhood was tarnished by the constant screams echoing in her sleep. Training under the guidance of her grandfather toned down the nightmares to an extent but it never vanished.
"The war…all the creatures of the realm fighting against…" she paused looking at Leo as her eyes shivered at the thought.
"Go on." Leo encouraged, nodding for her to continue.
"The celestials," Lyra stated. "There was so much blood that painted the land red, and the rivers ran dry. It was though the Creator was angered by all the creatures below and forsaken them."
Leo remained silent as he listened intently to her story. His expression was calm while his fist tightened till his knuckles turned white.
"There was this figure among the legion of demons and other creatures. He enshrouded himself in wispy shadows that coiled around his form, but his eyes are always the last thing I see before I wake up…" She shuddered.
Their gaze was locked as her next words brought the dream to reality. His red orbs glimmered with specks of gold as if the flames of the eternal damnation were locked away behind his sight.
"Eyes like yours, Leo."
The room was deafening after her last statement. She held her breath, as if her life depended on it.