: Lose A Hand?

Familiar gem green eyes stared back at her. They were outlined with a distinct golden circle, making them exotic.

But that was the only thing that could bring any sort of beauty out of her current countenance.

Her naked reflection showed her everything. And her eyes couldn't look away as if every single scar was brought under a microscope.

The most noticeable wounds were the ones she had gained that night. But there was so much more.

A long gash from the right of her collar bone to the left of her side. Discolored scars peaked over her shoulders, giving her only a nightmarish glimpse of what her back was painted to look like.

And her arms were red and garish. With how much she had scrubbed at her skin, red and bloody blotches covered her body, not doing anything to hide the white bite marks and the millions of tiny white lines that striped her arms.

It almost made her grimace at her own body. How her ribs were pressed against her pale paper skin, announcing their presence. Her chest was nonexistent while she could clearly see the makeup of her pelvic bone.

And now that she had finally had a chance to wash her hair, silver strands of unhealthy and broken locks were held in her hands as she was wringing it out.

This was how she looked. This was the monster that she had become. And she despised her own image.

With a mad turn, she made a straight line for the scissors on the table.

In a furry, she took them and cut at her hair, falling to the ground in chunks as she kept snipping and cutting.

She didn't stop until her once waist long hair was now below her shoulders.

She didn't dare to turn around now. To look behind her and see how she had altered herself on the instincts she followed.

It was done, she didn't regret it, but she still felt a hollow and burning rage inside of her stubbornly burning away at her very soul.

"Just go away."

Her voice was nothing but a quiet whisper. A plea she was making to herself.

Numbing herself down, she sighed.

With rigid movements, she cleaned up the mess she made. She wiped up the vomit and threw away the fallen hair before she tightly bandaged up the wound on her shoulder, but was unable to do the one on her hand as the wound on her shoulder prevented much movement of the opposite hand needed to help with the wrappings.

Putting on the white nightgown and undergarments that Dimitri had handed her, and couldn't help but notice how they hung loosely on her frame, but exited the bathroom anyways without minding it one bit with the gauze, disinfectant and cleaned off scissors like a puppet.

But she hadn't even make it halfway across the room when she stopped and numbly looked up to where Dimitri sat in a chair next to the canopy bed.

She was just tired, she didn't want to deal with him even if he had saved her life.

You'd think she would feel more grateful to this guy. But thinking of another time she had fawned over a so called savior that purposely saved her, drowned out any thoughts of trust she might try to show this guy with ice cold water.

"Do you need something?"

She growled out her words dew to her foul mood.

Dimitri coldly returned her more than obvious glare before he silently shot her a pointed look towards her hair and her hand.

She was lucky enough that she was given a long sleeved nightgown to cover her scars but she still didn't like the way he had pointedly looked at her wounded hand and hair.

"What?"

Her mood was turning darker and darker by the second the longer he stared. If she was still acting like a beast, she could blatantly ignore him or hiss to show her dissatisfaction but she could do neither.

This man was dangerous. He could kick her out just as easily as he brought her in, and she wouldn't have cared about that as much as before, but she made a deal.

She may be a lot of things, but a liar wasn't one of them. And she wanted to keep that part of herself at least.

Dimitri looked at her one more time before he sighed.

"Sit down."

Kayda scowled.

After a seconded of silence, she did as she was told.

Cautiously, she went over to the bed and sat down at the farthest corner away from him.

Dimitri patiently waited and when she sat down, he slowly stood up and started taking some steps towards her.

Of course, Kayda didn't want to wait to figure out what he was going to do.

With a hiss, she was about to bolt up.

"You lay a finger on me and I swear you'll be living the rest of your life without a hand."

She fiercely growled but Dimitri calmly looked at her.

Raising up both hands, he showed her his gloves.

Earlier when Dimitri had left the room after explaining how to work the tub, he remembered the bloody wound on her hand and the gaping hole in her shoulder that was marred with bloody and ragged skin.

She would probably have problems with wrapping up her hand. He didn't need her to get sick and die in the night.

So he started to head back when he also remembered the incident while riding the valkmare. How she scratched at her wound and how she would grab and scrape at the area around her wrist that he had grabbed.

So once again, he turned around to go back to his room and grabbed his gloves, making sure to sanitize them before putting them on and heading back to the room she was staying in.

When he knocked, there was no reply and once again he entered.

If Clouse saw this, he would have stopped his lord this time and tried to enlighten him about the world of women.

But he wasn't there this time.

Dimitri went into the dark room. The only light coming from under the bathroom door and through the open window where the sun had slowly started to rise.

Since she was still in the bathroom, he settled for sitting on the chair next to the bed, looking like a cold noble as he waited for his subordinates to hurry along.

It was after a few minutes of silence that he heard her throw up in the bathroom and start violently coughing before she went silent again.

He wanted to go in there to see what had happened. But stopped himself remembering how her eyes looked when she woke up on the valkmare in front of him.

It was as if the very life was frightened out of her, making her desperately lash out at the nearest thing. Him.

So sitting back down, he continued to wait.

A little while later, she walked out in a pure white nightgown.

Her bright silver hair reached below her shoulders in uneven cuts and her skin was bright red and scratched to the point of bleeding.

At some point after she entered the room, she looked him in the eyes and he felt a small pang in his heart.

She looked so lost.

But he didn't bother to dwell on it and just proceed to stare at her.

But quickly, her emotions changed to the defensive and that's what led to this situation.