Page 18 of Marked

Bright morning light invaded Blair’s eyes, and she blinked against the sun filtering through the window.

Her eyes flickered open, heavy with exhaustion.

She wasn't sure what time she had gone to sleep.

She had tried to stay awake waiting for Damien.

Ultimately giving in to her drowsiness, she had fallen asleep before he came back to the room.

Trying to wake herself up, she took a deep breath and turned, noticing his frame across the room on the floor.

Catching sight of him on the floor, she almost felt bad.

He was still asleep, his steady breathing brought to life with the movement of his chest. His large frame was awkwardly placed on the floor, clearly uncomfortable despite the blankets he had used to try and create a cushion under his head and back.

He had one arm under his head for added support, and his legs were extended out as far as they could go before running into the wall.

She slipped her legs out from under the covers and swung them over the bed, her feet touching the cold floor.

She carefully stood, balanced, and stepped over him.

The world outside was still asleep as she peaked through the blinds at the other rooms of the inn.

She considered returning to the hot water outside but quickly dismissed that idea, remembering how distasteful the last night had been.

Opting to be outside and in the fresh air, she decided on dagger practice instead.

Carefully, she went to grab her bag for her sheath.

She froze as her hand touched the clothing on top.

A folded pair of pants and a shirt- the outfit she had worn yesterday.

She picked up the pants, unrolling them to look at the legs.

They had been washed. She glanced at Damien and shook her head in disbelief.

As quietly as she could, she stepped into the bathroom and put on her clothes, strapping her sheath to her thigh.

She then moved lightly toward the door, pausing only for a brief moment to listen for any sounds from the sleeping man on the floor.

The inn was quiet. No one else was awake yet, no one to disturb her.

She eased the door open just enough to slip through, closing it gently behind her.

As she stepped out, she winced at the chill, but it didn't matter.

She had a moment of freedom and needed to feel the weight of her dagger in her hand again.

Not being able to practice her skills the last few days had made her antsy.

The dagger she had come to love hung on her thigh, nestled in its new sheath.

She reached for it now, fingers brushing the cool hilt as if it were a lifeline.

She took in the sight around and looked up, admiring the colors that had painted the sky.

Blair moved swiftly, finding a place she could practice that provided some type of privacy.

Her footsteps were soft as she moved, the only sounds coming from the small rocks that crunched under her boots.

She made her way behind the huts, finding a corner that backed up against a hill of the hot springs.

This area was enclosed and would be a perfect spot for her.

The space was quiet, almost eerily so. The only sounds being the bubbling water and birds waking up in the distance. Blair looked around, noticing a stack of old crates against the wall. Knowing this would make an improvised target for her practice, she grabbed them and restacked them.

She positioned herself at a distance, her body moving instinctively as she reached for the dagger. The weight was familiar in her hand, smooth, cold, and solid. She ran her fingers along the blade for a moment, a brief ritual to calm her nerves before she threw.

Blair raised her arm, her focus narrowing. Her breath slowed as she fixed her gaze on the center beam of wood on the crate, the distance almost non-existent in her mind. The world seemed to disappear as she inhaled and released it, the movement fluid and precise as she hurled the dagger.

The sound of metal slicing through the air was like music to her ears.

The dagger hit the crate with a satisfying thud and buried deep into the wood.

Blair let out a quiet breath of relief, the tension in her shoulders easing.

She approached the target, inspecting the strike.

It was good, close to the center, but not quite perfect.

She retrieved the dagger, wiped it clean, and took a few steps back.

This time, she adjusted her stance, shifting her weight slightly.

The second throw was faster and more confident.

The dagger flew through the air, spinning once before it embedded itself firmly in the wood.

Blair couldn't help but smile a little. It was a perfect hit this time.

For a moment, she stood there, letting the quiet victory settle in her chest. She had trained diligently to reach this point. These skills would be the ones that kept her alive, the skills she wasn't willing to let slip away.

As she retrieved the dagger again, a voice broke the silence behind her.

"At least you didn't run away this time."

Blair froze, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, she turned around, and there, standing casually with his hands in his pockets, was Damien.

His eyes were drowsy with sleep, but there was an amusement in them.

His arms were crossed, and his disheveled hair only made him look more mischievous than usual.

Blair's lips parted in surprise, but then she looked away. "I guess you aren't lucky enough for that," she said, her voice rigid.

He shrugged, pushing off from the wall and strolling toward her. "Lucky?" He eyed the dagger in her hand. "I would have found you."

She let the silence hang for a moment, her gaze shifting from Damien to the dagger, then back to him.

Damien raised an eyebrow. "You've gotten better."

Her response was intentionally clipped," I know."

He tilted his head, looking at her with an unreadable expression. "Blair-”

She interrupted him before he could continue, “Did you wash my clothes? ”

His gaze lingered on her for a second before he shrugged in her direction. “They must of fell into the hot springs.”

Blair rolled her eyes at him, “Uh-huh.” she turned away from him then, lining herself up to throw her dagger.

Before she could throw, Damien reached out, gently taking her wrist in his hand. His skin was warm, and Blair couldn't help but notice the way his touch lingered, just a moment too long, as though to steady her.

“I’m glad the stains came out." he murmured, grabbing her wrist again and guiding her arm into a better throwing position. His other hand moved, pressing lightly against her back. Why did that feel so good?

His fingers brushed against the fabric of her blouse, sending a ripple of warmth down her spine.

Blair held her breath as the contact sent a shock through her, but Damien didn't seem to notice.

He adjusted her stance, his hands firm but not forceful, his body close enough that she could feel his presence, his warmth.

Damien's breath skimmed the shell of her ear, "I'm not sure what thoughts you put in your head about why you were covered by my shadows last night, but I can tell you.

. they are wrong." He moves his hand to her elbow, guiding it slightly higher.

"Relax your grip a little," he instructed, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in slightly, his voice low and steady.

"I covered you, not because I didn't want to see, but because I was trying to respect you.

I have already forced you to leave with me; I'm not going to force you to give up any more of your free will.

The shadows were to comfort you, give you a sense of privacy.

" He pulled his mouth away from her ear and moved his hand to her shoulder, tapping lightly.

"You're too tense. You need to flow with it, not fight it. "

Blair nodded, swallowing against the unexpected flutter in her chest. Her fingers loosened slightly around the hilt of the dagger, and she adjusted her posture as he guided her, his hands now resting gently against her lower back, steadying her.

The touch was intimate in a way that caught her off guard.

For a second, she felt a little lost, as though she had no idea how to separate the comfort of his touch from the focus she needed.

Damien stepped back, his hands slipping away, but the heat from where they had touched lingered on her skin. "Now try."

Blair nodded, her heart pounding, but she pushed the unwelcome sensation aside.

She raised her arm once more, her body feeling different now, more balanced, more controlled, her mind clearer.

She threw the dagger with ease, watching as it flew through the air and buried itself deep into the crate. The strike was perfect.

Damien grinned, stepping closer to her again.

"There you go," he said, his voice warm with approval.

"Good job." He stepped to the side and watched as she positioned herself to throw again.

Damien's hand rose up to his neck as he leaned backward, stretching his back as he nodded in approval at her stature.

Blair noticed his movement and bit her bottom lip. "About last night, I'm sorry," she stated, her shoulders sagging.

"Sorry for what?" Damien asked, his tone flat.

"Making you think you had to sleep on the floor. "

Damien stared at her incredulously. Not moving, not confirming, and not denying. She flipped the dagger once over in her hand and eyed him up and down. She smiled, stopping to flip the dagger one more time. "I think I'm going to visit that bookstore again today if you want to come along."