To Haunt Him or To Captivate Him?

DAEMON 

Daemon was so deep in his thoughts that he rammed into something so white. 

The white figure, whom Daemon figured was actually a person, a girl for that matter, tumbled, falling. The girl despite her impending crash to the ground clutched onto a strange wooden staff with all her might like it was her lifeline. And not that her waist would hurt her fiercely if she did succeed in falling to the ground. 

Daemon's hands darted out, wounding around the girl's waist and successfully impeding her fall. The girl's free hand darted to his shoulder for support, the one that held the staff, resting on his chest. The action that happened in all but one second strangely caused his heart to start beating fast erratically like he was overpowered with an overflow of adrenaline.

As the girl faced her squarely, Daemon realised why he thought she was blindingly white. Her hair was a fiery, ghostly white that did not make any sense. It hardly contrasted with her skin that was also deathly pale, particularly in that moment. And the white dress she wore didn't make for much contrast either. 

Her eyes were hidden beneath the folds of a white piece of cloth, and the wind blew through the open floor to ceiling windows that decorated the corridor, causing her hair to fly around her like… a goddess?

She was so white that the only sign that she was a living person and not some otherworldly being were lips that were so full and red with blood that pumped through her veins. 

Daemon found himself staring at those lips, strangely drawn to it.

Admittedly, it wasn't that he was strangely drawn to it, it was that he did wonder what it would taste like to kiss those lips… the lips of a woman that didn't look to belong to their world.

Indeed, Daemon did know that the girl was a woman and not some underaged pub. Not because of the woman's warm breasts that were pressed to his chest despite the wedge of the staff she held between them, but because his excellent senses could clearly pick up the smell of rejection that lingered on her.

And underaged girl's don't get rejected. At least, to the best of his understanding of the workings of such matter, he believed the moon goddess made it so that one had to be at least eighteen years old before a divine mate was bestowed.

The smell wasn't that strong anymore, indicating the rejection was not recent. Probably happened a month ago or so, he concluded. Although it did baffle him that he was thinking about some strange woman and the mating process, which he had no interest in, when news that his life was hanging on the peril of some damn seers had just been brought to him.

He attempted to release the girl when he noticed that her face was scrunched in pain as if she was recollecting a bad memory. The free hand that was round his shoulders clutched onto him tighter, almost drawing him further into her if it made any sense.

Daemon merely raised an eyebrow at the act that was sensual, even intimate. But it didn't seem to be the girl's intentions. Her head tilted up, and it was hard to figure if she was looking at him or not through the blindfold. But then, Daemon figured if she was blind as it seemed, then it wouldn't matter.

If it didn't matter though, then why cloak her eyes in the first place? He felt an overwhelming urge to lift the folds and see her eyes for what it was. Would it haunt him? Or captivate him? He was desperate to know which it would be.

"Lord Daemon, I apologise for this." An Episolon said, stepping closer to them. A young maidservant sprawled on the floor scrambled up, disconnecting the white woman from his body by drawing the woman's body back.

The maidservant bowed lowly, her wolf quivering before him. "I… I mu…st apologise for this, my lo…rd."

The blindfolded girl still looked to be in a shock as it didn't seem she had quite recovered from their momentary tangle. Once she recovered from her shock or whatever it was, she slightly bowed to Daemon. 

He observed that unlike the quivering maidservant, the woman had no wolf to speak of. But her sense of hearing must have been very good seeing how she was able to detect where he stood, and aimed a perfect bow that faced him directly.

The Epsilon, noting how Daemon stared at the woman quickly explained. "My Lord, she is an honoured guest of the Alpha King."

"An honoured guest?" Yaren sneered, observing the woman quickly. She looked suspiciously like the very thing said to haunt them, and Daemon had already observed the same.

"Yes, your highnesses. She is a seer from the GreenLands East."

"Ahh… a seer?" Yaren remarked maliciously, his eyes leering down the girl that didn't look to be more than nineteen to him.

Just how much divine power would someone as young as her possess? Besides, he sniffed at the air and noted that she was wolfless. And what was that other smell? Faint like the smell of a burning putrid thing… he couldn't quite place it. But from merely observing Daemon's half rigid stance, he knew his brother's more excellent senses had caught what it was. 

The young maidservant darted in front of the woman bravely, as if to protect her from the withering stares of the two men that stared her Miss down. Daemon merely perused the white woman once more who trembled slightly, before turning and walking away.

And as he walked, he couldn't shake off the prickly sensation at the back of his neck that indicated that he was being watched.

And he had a suspicion it was the woman.

"You should have allowed for her ungraceful descent." Yaren sneered, turning to look at the woman who was now the subject of his hate.

"That is no way to treat a lady." Daemon muttered, resisting the urge to look back at the woman.

Yaren scoffed at that, "well if that's the best Moorim could afford, then I suppose I should be grateful to him."

Daemon merely sighed. Yet again, Yaren had failed to understand that no one was to be underestimated. Not even if they appeared in the most ragged rags.

It was underestimation that often led to the most humiliating defeat.