I was about to die for goodness' sake.
My soul escaped but not far enough for me not to get curious about the scent that filled my nose. It was so manly I could swear that a million-dollar would not buy it.
I must die to have such thought when I was about to die but I was truly dead, you know.
But that is not the point, I was about to die. I was practically sending out an SOS call.
His hand on my waist tightened slowly but noticeable but that pulled back the brain of the body I now possessed to reality and most likely returned my soul to the body.
"Your scent has changed," he told me after taking a deep breath. "You smell different."
I shook visibly. Someone, please help me here, could a change in soul cause a change in body scent?
I guess you don't know too, or do you?
I wanted to cry out. "It is . . . it is a new cologne." I stammered pathetically.
"No, not the cologne. The scent of your blood has changed," he replied displeased. That sounded more like he was scolding a lying child.
I was shaking, when did people acquire the ability to smell other people's blood.
You know when blood is spilled, you would smell it as far as your sense of smell still works but I am talking about blood still flowing in my veins.
"It smells . . ." he began but moved away faster than I could process and he was sitting on a sofa in a matter of seconds. "Get out if you do not want to die," came the order from the king.
I wanted so badly to scoff. "What about her?"
Now, I deserve a slap for asking that crazy question. I should have just walked out when given the chance.
With the same speed he left, he was standing before me with his hands folded on his chest. "Do you have a problem with that? She was never yours, to begin with," he told me with a faint trace of anger in his monotonous voice.
"I . . ." I began to make it clear to him that the woman was somehow my responsibility and that I am not someone who won't take responsibility.
His hand covered my mouth and I struggled to free myself.
I wanted him to know that I no longer loved her and that I was only doing what was expected of a gentleman.
"Mhhhmmmmhhhhmmmhhhh," well that was the ridiculous noise I could only make.
"I warned you to leave," he told me in a very deep voice.
"Mhhhmmmhhh," came the same laughable noise.
I deserve to be called a fool, feel free to do so, okay?
Why remain in the lion's den . . . no the devil's cave when you got a chance to leave all because you wanted to play the hero card?
I was cursing the brain that had become mine but you know what, I knew that it was entirely my fault and had nothing to do with the brain.
I was wise enough to stop thinking wildly and understand what was happening. He could kill with his teeth and he was learning down towards my neck for the second time in less than ten minutes.
I pushed my luck by trying to push him away. Unlike what you expect, he budged and stepped back. "Something about you has changed," he commented.
Could people's eyes stare into other people's souls that was the feeling he gave me as he looked into my eyes?
Was I foolish to admire how his eyes color was switching from red to brown then black like a light switch? He clenched his fist and stepped away from me.
He looked like he was holding back from killing me and I decided to escape at that moment, at least I was wise enough to.
"I advise you to run when next you see me," I heard a cold warning as I walked to the door as fast as I could.
I took that advice seriously if you are asking. I ran into a wall just as I stepped out of the door.
"Are you okay?" came a jovial voice.
I raised my head and glared at the person I wanted to hit the most and I did not hesitate. I threw a punch. It hit his jaw and my fist hurt from the impact.
I grimaced and began walking away.
"What was that for?"
How could someone sound jovial even after getting punched?
"You can't hit me without taking responsibility," he told me sounding wronged.
I turned shocked by the seriousness of his tone and he smirked.
"Psychopath," I spat and continued down the corridor I dreaded.
My wrist was caught in a firm grip. My body's response to that touch was a shiver. I might never forget the feeling of fear I felt in that room from the cold touch of the king.
"Are you okay?" the king's brother asked looking at me worriedly.
I looked at him and I saw no trace of his usual jovialness rather his brows furrowed worriedly.
"I am fine, just a little cold," I replied shaking my head furiously. I glared at him after giving him my sincere answer and pulled away.
He released me and I hurried down the corridor. "I am sorry that you had to be alone when you woke up," he apologized still serious.
"I . . . I saw her die." Pretty woman, I am sorry that I don't even know your name.
"Oh," he simply said.
That was annoying. That made me realize that they were brothers and they could be very much alike in the sense that they could kill with their teeth.
"My brother did not kill her. She will not die now. She will die some other time but not now. She will be taken care of and treated," he turned me to face him and explained with so much patience that I was made to rethink my attitude earlier.
But wait! "Does that mean she will die?" I blurted out.