Chapter Forty: Silver

"Ruhnn," Ayra whispered lowly, her heart thrashing harshly again her ribcage and her mind roaring with a myriad of different emotions. Surprise, rage, despair and...she didn't know.

Ruhnn didn't move from his place. He stood there, as still as a dead man's shadow, silver eyes piercing through her icy blue ones. He tilted his head like a predator and lowly said,

"Ayra."

The world quieted down around her. People feverishly moved along to the extravagant melody, laughing with joy and happiness, however, Ayra couldn't hear or see anything at all. Her icy blue eyes were focused on the boy—no, the man before her. The towering, broad-shouldered, masked stranger before her.

Ayra, he had said. Despite the coldness behind those words, her heart had skipped a cruel beat. It skipped a beat, even after he had ordered his companion to kill her at the Ruins. It skipped a beat even if he wasn't the same Ruhnn that she had adored once. And it was all because of the child within her, the child who pried an eye open at the mere presence of him.

The child who still believed him to be the same old Ruhnn.

Ayra hated herself. No, she despised herself for feeling these treacherous emotions.

She had imagined a situation like this countless times before, where she would stand before Ruhnn one day and confront him, with her fangs bared, sword drawn, and tears of blood trickling down her eyes. However, she had no idea it would end up this way — with her heart bared and vulnerable. So, so vulnerable.

Her wind drew closer to her, protectively, but Ayra knew that even her power couldn't protect her from him.

"Why are you here, Ruhnn?" Her voice was low. Soft. Weak.

His gaze was unwavering. With only his silver eyes exposed and trained on her, Ayra began to feel conscious. She could still feel his hands on her waist, the heat emanating from his body and his calm breath behind his intimidating mask.

Ayra clenched her fingers and grit her teeth. When he didn't respond, she asked again, angrily,

"Why are you here, demon? To kill more people?" Her voice grew louder, "Haven't you done enough already?"

Something sparked behind those dark eyes of his. He slowly took a leisurely step towards her, closing the distance between them. He raised his hands towards her and Ayra sucked in a sharp breath. She remained frozen as he gently lifted a lock of her long, moon-white hair and twirled it.

He levelled a challenging gaze at her and replied,

"Are you going to stop me?"

The wind grew quiet. 

Ayra sensed the mockery lacing those words as if he knew that she wouldn't be able to stop him, even if she wanted to.

Ruhnn's eyes roved over her face, reading every emotion that she seemed to display like an open book. She stepped back immediately, the lock of hair slipping through his fingers.

Ruhnn curved his finger around empty air and tched, eyes glinting.

"I was simply joking, Ayra. I'm here to enjoy the ball, as you can see." He gestured towards the dancing crowd around them.

"Liar," she spat, repeating his earlier words.

Ruhnn grew silent again. The only gateway to his emotions was his silver eyes and they were aloof. Cold. Vicious.

She remembered them being warm and welcoming. Now, those cursed eyes were unrecognisable.

He took a step towards her again and on instinct, her fingers reached towards the magical bracelet that pocketed her Arcadius.

Ruhnn's eyes flared under the soft glow of the chandelier. It was as though flames danced behind them, and she was cruelly reminded of the sinister power lurking beneath those expensive dark garbs. His eyes snapped towards the bracelet around her wrist and back to her face.

"Do it," his eyes seemed to say. A challenge.

Ayra didn't move. Her fingers hovered over the bracelet on her wrist. She should do it. This was her chance. She should draw out her sword, lay it on his neck and end it once and for all.

But she couldn't. Shadows danced behind her eyes, mirroring what her heart felt.

Fate was a cruel little thing.

It turned her against someone she once cherished. Someone who swore to protect her and promised to be by her side. Someone who climbed trees for her and gazed at the moon with her, someone who was her anchor during the harshest days and a beacon of light during the darkest ones.

Someone who she assumed to be dead and cold and lost forever.

Her chest tightened and her throat burned with unspeakable emotions. She slowly retrieved her fingers from her bracelet and let it fall to her side. A feeling of hopelessness washed over her.

"What happened, Ruhnn?" She questioned, finally meeting his eyes.

Ruhnn's silver ones didn't show anything. They were indifferent, detached from everything warm and kind. Ayra realized that his guards were up, an impenetrable fortress made of steel and flames of darkness.

Without thinking, she reached out for his mask but before she could do so, he harshly caught her hand.

Ayra winced in pain.

"Don't you dare touch me," He warned dangerously, silver eyes hostile. 

"What happened?" She tried again, eyes pleading.

He tightened his gloved fingers around her in response. His grip was unforgiving but she stopped herself from wincing further.

With unblinking eyes and a sinister voice, Ruhnn said,

"Demoena le sereva, Ayra."

And then it happened.

Ayra heard the loud, haunting cry in the sky first and then, a large body came crashing down through the ceiling of the manor. The wind around her rippled violently and Ayra jumped back right before the large body tore through the floor and continued downwards. She heard cries of panic around her, an explosion of horror kissed the thrashing air around and then a heartbeat later, nothing. Silence ensued. A kind of calmness that settled right before the tragic storm. When she opened her eyes, her heart stilled.

A dark, gaping hole yawned before them.

When Ayra looked up, Ruhnn stood on the other side of the hole, eyes on her.

"Demoena le sereva, Ayra," he had said.

Without a word, Ruhnn jumped into the darkness.