Concern

Memories were a battlefield.

Some were cherished weapons, polished bright by laughter – like the memory of racing through the lavender field with Ivan, the warm spring sun and the scent of the flowers a balm on her childhood worries. Back then, she felt safe, nestled in the arms of strangers who'd become her family.

But other memories were jagged shards that ripped at the edges of her soul with every heartbeat. The fire, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the smoke. Indigo's pitying eyes, a stark contrast to Damien's youthful awkwardness. Those memories were a part of her, the scars branding her into the hunter she was today.

Professor Dmitri, her first Watcher, came next. Strict and demanding, he instilled the habit of waking with the dawn, a constant vigil against the encroaching darkness. Training. Always training. Yet, a flicker of something akin to pride sparked in his eyes when she channelled the celestial blade at a tender twelve – a feat unheard of. But pride quickly morphed back into that relentless push. He yearned for more, a hunger that mirrored the insatiable thirst of the creatures they hunted.

"Run a hundred laps!" his bellows echoed in her memory, a constant reminder of her perceived failings. "In this world, there are only hunters and the hunted, Callista. With your meagre skill, running might be all you're good for."

Those harsh words carved deep into her soul, a young girl barely a teenager, still raw from the fresh wound of tragedy. That first year felt like an endless loop of failure punctuated by exhaustion. Then came the betrayal, the forbidden hunt. Her blades, barely formed, sputtered against the relentless onslaught. Dmitri, a silent observer, his indifference chilling her more than the vampire's fangs. A desperate plea for help, met with a suffocating emptiness.

In that moment, a primal roar ripped from her throat, a defiance fueled by fear and the memory of a stolen childhood. The celestial blade, a blinding light, incinerated the vampire.

When the light faded, a fleeting warmth had flickered in Dmitri's eyes, a flicker that ignited a desperate hope in her young heart. Maybe, foolishly, she'd thought, he could be the father she'd never had.

But that hope died with him. Bitten by a vampire he'd fallen in love with, a creature he couldn't bring himself to destroy. The sight of him, drained and fading, was the final, searing betrayal. Unlike Indigo, who found love but fought it, Dmitri succumbed willingly.

Hypocrite.

That's when the walls went up, brick by emotional brick. Love, she concluded, was a vampire's most potent weapon. It drained away humanity, leaving behind only soulless monsters. From then on, she swore to keep her heart locked away, to eradicate vampires before they could weave their charming webs of deceit.

So why, then, did her feet carry her to the princess' changing room? Why couldn't she tear her gaze away from Athena, a creature as ancient and dangerous as sin? The memory of Dmitri's lifeless eyes battled with the unexpected warmth that flared at the sight of Athena's vulnerability.

Leaning against the locker, Callista murmured, "Disappointing match," her voice devoid of conviction. Her crimson eyes, a storm of conflicting emotions warring within, flickered over the sliver of toned midriff exposed by Athena's unbuttoning blouse.

Shame burned in her cheeks. Here she stood, a hunter sworn to eradicate the very creature who now stood before her, injured and strangely… alluring. 

Athena's movements froze. Slowly, she turned, her golden eyes meeting Callista's in a clash of wills. The amusement that usually danced in them was absent, replaced by a cool indifference. "An interesting observation," she remarked, her voice devoid of its usual teasing lilt. "One might almost mistake it for… concern."

With a languid grace, Athena shrugged off her blouse, revealing a glimpse of black lace and the slope of her breasts, a surprising contrast to her usual, more reserved attire. The lingerie itself was elegant, the only adornment a delicate strapping detail that traced the rise and fall of her breath. For a moment, Callista couldn't tear her gaze away.

As the silence stretched, Athena spoke again, her voice laced with a subtle challenge. Her hand hovered near the button of her leather pants. "Intriguing as your presence is, Astra, are you here to observe or assist?"

A low growl, almost primal, rumbled from Callista's throat before she could stifle it. She closed the distance between them in a single, fluid stride, her crimson eyes locking with Athena's. Ignoring the surprised flicker in the golden depths, Callista reached out. Her fingers brushed against the cool porcelain of Athena's shoulder, sending a jolt through her, as she swept the blonde waves aside to reveal the faint purple bloom marring the pale skin.

"Best healer they claim," Callista murmured, "leaving a mark already." 

Callista's fingertips lingered on the spot where Athena's pulse hammered a frantic rhythm. The faint thrumming sent a confusing mix of concern and arousal coursing through her. Was Athena... nervous? The mere possibility was a balm to the tangled mess of emotions churning in Callista's gut.

But before she could unravel that thought, a shift in Athena's expression made Callista's breath hitch. The glacial facade melted away, replaced by a ghost of a smile, as delicate and fleeting as a desert flower in bloom. The air hung heavy with the lingering scent of sandalwood, and for a beat too long, Athena's gaze lingered on Callista, a flicker of something unreadable burning within golden depths.

"A minor inconvenience for a vampire, truly," Athena finally spoke, her voice softer now, almost seductive. "But..." she trailed off, her eyes narrowing as they swept over Callista. "Why the concern for someone you claim to despise?"

The carefully crafted words Callista had rehearsed dissolved on her tongue. "I don't..." she choked out, the raw honesty surprising even her own ears. "I don't despise you."

Athena's golden eyes, widened with surprise and something more – a flicker of vulnerability Callista couldn't decipher – locked onto hers. They searched Callista's face, searching for truth amidst the turmoil.

"Then..." the princess murmured, her voice a husky whisper against Callista's lips as she pulled the hunter closer , "...indifference or perhaps... more?"

Their bodies melded, the flimsy fabric of Callista's shirt a mere barrier against the searing heat radiating from them both. Her heart hammered a chaotic rhythm against her ribs, mirroring the frantic pulse beneath her fingertips. She met Athena's gaze, now a smouldering amber, a storm brewing within its depths. 

A kiss. It should be enough, shouldn't it? To unravel this tangled mess of emotions, to gauge Athena's true intentions. Perhaps it would be like the others – bland, meaningless. A way to rip off the metaphorical bandaid.

Just as Callista opened her mouth to answer, a deafening clatter shattered the charged silence. The door to the room flew open, a cacophony of voices flooding in. Callista ripped herself away from Athena, her cheeks burning with a mixture of frustration and something else entirely. A single, desperate glance back revealed Athena frozen in place, a storm of emotions swirling in her golden eyes.

Callista didn't wait. With a final, lingering look, she slipped through the doorway, leaving behind a tangled web of emotions and a princess with a million unanswered questions.