Kill Me

~X~

I know their names and looks. Father does too. Stuff took me a year and more to study that I might even begin to list the names of their fetuses.

It’s my first time coming to Braevalle, and I’ve heard things about it. Good things. Like how the fruits are heavenly. And how unearthly their young girls look. And… I think the White Mansion took up sixty percent of these compliments—it also happens to be the first stop for tourists.

Let me tell ya though, I find the whole thing exaggerated. Braevalle is just as good as every other place but also as quiet as a graveyard, which is bad. Really. Or maybe I hate too much silenc― ouch!

Did I just see Hunter’s female guard hitting Heidi’s forehead against a boulder? Yes! And the impact rendered her unconscious on the woman’s body. 

I want to laugh but then if I do, I’ll be heard and exposed. I’m currently camouflaged in the environment and making a loud sound is… I won’t say it’s dangerous because no one knows me and they can’t catch me if I run anyway.

Father did make a good choice in choosing me for this mission. He’s made an enemy out of nearly all powerful creatures in the world, and what better weapon to use to spy on them than me? Though I’ve now been distracted from the major person he asked me to watch. I just got too curious about this Heidi girl and her guts. Hehehe.

“Whose child is this anyway?” the guard mumbles while pushing Heidi’s limp body back into the snow. “Nearly broke my damn head too!” She hoists the girl over her shoulder and walks away, leaving a black leather jacket behind; Zavere’s, I think.

When she arrives at the hall, she signals one of Hunter’s men to come forward. “The boss needs to see this. I’ve been watching her try to get near him for a while now,” she says, nodding toward Heidi’s butt. The man disappears into the hall while she drops the girl’s unconscious form in the snow. 

Hunter emerges from the hall moments later with Tad trailing behind him. He crouches beside Heidi’s body and peers at the small abrasion on her forehead, then touches it with his index finger, his gaze darkening when he sees blood. 

Rising to his full height, he turns to the guard. He exudes an airy demeanor, also fatal, as he approaches her. Yet, she’s as bold as the glare of gold. I’m gonna enjoy watching this. Wish I had a bowl of popcorn too.

“What did you do?” Hunter speaks through clenched teeth, his voice low and eyes brooding. 

His tone causes the woman’s composure to shatter. And as she watches him near her with the murderous glint in his eyes, her legs involuntarily begin to shift back.

“She… she attacked me first. She’s b–been spying on you,” she stutters as fear steals her expression. 

Hunter nods stiffly. “Do you know who she is?” 

The guard shakes her head. Panic sets in. I can feel her emotions, Hunter’s too.

He is fuming; and without warning, covers the remaining space between them, reaches for her, and clamps his thumb and index fingers on her throat. 

She begins to choke, her hands grasping at his wrist. But no matter the pressure she adds on the man’s hand, it doesn’t seem to affect him. 

Tad, who wanted to intervene before Hunter attacked the guard, immediately retreats to the hall. He walks past Zavere, as the latter approaches and stands a few paces away from the horrid scene, facing Hunter’s side profile with hands in his pockets. 

“That woman belongs to me. No one touches her,” Hunter warns. His words create runes on the guard’s skin that summon her deepest fear and form, within her, a phobia of Hunter. And as she frantically nods, he doesn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he lifts her off the ground, her feet dangling under her as she struggles to breathe. 

“Hunter, she understood you,” Zavere tells the man calmly. But Hunter doesn’t seem like he’s about to let her go.

He stares at Zavere with a deadpan face. Then, without a word, his fingers twist; breaking the guard’s neck with a snap before he lets her lifeless body drop to the ground. 

Zavere releases a soft sigh. What was the use of saying anything when Hunter would draw blood from a stone anyway? He’s shocked at the action but doesn’t let it show, deciding to walk away.

“Zavere,” Hunter calls, and Zavere stops without looking back. “Undo any trace of this,” he adds, earning a huff from Zavere who cranes his neck to look over his shoulder. 

Damn you, Hunter. He thinks.

The man doesn’t expect him to start wiping people’s memories, does he?

He may be able to force them to delete the videos from their phones. But Hunter knows well enough that doing what he did in front of this many people will never remain under the lid forever, which is why he feels like Hunter’s sending a message; that’s how he makes his threats. 

Except, Zavere doesn’t know who he’s trying to warn or where this sudden thought to kill comes from. However, he hopes it doesn’t get out of hand because he isn’t about to start taming a savage Hunter.

He silently continues walking, passing Dad Griffin who’s watching with a proud gleam in his eyes as Hunter lifts Heidi's body bridal style and heads for another entrance that isn’t the hall’s.

I’ve been watching Hunter since he was born, and I understand Zavere’s shock—the man’s gotten so used to Hunter being human that he’s now forgetting the darkest sides of him. The sides he’d shown and dealt me with (No, don’t start calculating our age difference. Really don’t).

~

~HEIDI~

I don’t know how long the darkness enveloped me, but I sense it’s time to wake up when I feel fingers ghosting along my jawline.

My blurry vision makes it difficult to recognize the face lingering in my front. Yet, his scent gives him away. I can never forget that earthy fragrance and the feeling it stirs within me.

“Hun―ter,” I mumble drowsily, only now realizing that my upper body rests on the man’s leg when he moves the hand cradling my head.

A smile spreads across my face as the blur clears, and my eyes lock with that of the man my heart’s yearning for.

His squared jawline complements his chiseled cheekbones, the green color of his orb piercing mine, and I can’t help but be lost in its depth.

Even though Hunter stares down at me with the same expressionless face, it doesn’t bother me. As long as he’s holding me, nothing else matters. But then, the events of the past few hours crash into my mind. And I find I’m comparing the Hunter I know to the one before me.

The former would have his eyes crinkling at the corners with every grin, and his lips would stretch to a thin line. Now, he’s a hard shell; devoid of emotions, with his warmth locked away.

Snapping out of my reverie, flickering my eyes to the ceiling, I try to tilt my head to see what’s around me as I start to mumble, “Hunter, where—”

“Shh.” The man places a finger on his lips before the hand behind my head gently guides my face back to him.

His thumb and index fingers hold my chin to prevent me from looking away. And without warning, he leans down and captures my lips in a kiss that takes me by surprise.

My eyes widen. My heart skips a beat, lips sealed by confusion, but his tongue pressing against them creates a slit between.

His warmth fills my mouth alongside the rich taste of berries and lavender, the most intoxicating effect flooding my senses before a surge of tingling sensations courses through me, mingling with an overwhelming heady feeling of floating.

My eyes flutter shut as our lips move in sync. Our tongues meet in a sensual dance while matching the slow rhythm of our breaths.

As I place my hand on Hunter’s jaw, he abruptly cuts the kiss. Fuck, no, please. I’m starving. I want him. I’m longing for more. And I’m almost reaching to pull his head down.

My eyes shoot open. “What was that for?” I whisper, searching his emotionless gaze as a faint smile tugs at his lips—a goddamn smile that shies away from his eye.

I can’t believe I just shared my first kiss with him; I can't understand the meaning behind his sudden display of affection either.

I feel both giddy and confused, but I put my confusion behind my mind and gently stroke Hunter’s face with my thumb, watching him close his eyes to savor the touch. When they reopen, his lips move, and I don’t catch what he said.

“What?”

“I need to use the bathroom,” he repeats throatily before I shift to let him move. 

The force with which I sit up reminds me of the headache that lingered since the afternoon, only now it’s growing into a full-blown ache, throbbing behind my eyes.

As Hunter disappears into the bathroom, I glance around the room. I’m only now realizing that we’ve been on the bed the entire time.

The room is large, but sparse, with the big bed as the centerpiece. Across from it is a couch, and beside the couch a small table holding framed photos of a toddler alongside other trinkets that I don’t bother to inspect.

I steal a glance at the bathroom door as I ponder on the questions that need to be asked—where we are, how I got here, and many others. One, however, weighs heavier than the rest.

Hunter soon emerges from the bathroom. He undoes his cufflinks and the first two buttons of his white shirt before rolling up his sleeves to reveal veiny forearms covered in ink. Then he walks over to the full-length mirror beside the table and runs his fingers through his hair, while I just sit on the bed and watch him.

My fingers are fidgeting on my thighs, nervousness invading me. I don’t know why my heart’s beating so fast—whether it’s the serious conversation I’m about to initiate or the lingering effects of the kiss. Or is it because he’s standing in the same room as me, looking as devastatingly handsome as ever?

Turning to the mirror, I find him watching me through it. He seems to have been doing so since, seeing as he’s not moving away from there. 

“Hunter, about the fact that we were… siblings,” I begin cautiously, gauging his reaction, yet his expression remains unchanged. “Did it kind of… turn you off?”

It seems as if the world has stopped for a moment before Hunter tucks a hand into his pocket and turns to face me. And I find my head going down, staring at him through my lashes while biting my lower lip hard, anxiety knotting in my stomach.

He beckons for me to come to him and I obey without hesitation. 

When I stand in front of him, he cocks his head and looks down at me, then slides the hand out of his pocket along with a rusted iron penknife.

“Kill me,” he says dryly, holding the penknife to me. His face still has that blank expression that I can’t read—that’s now making me miserable as I stare down at the blade in shock.

“Huh?” I return my gaze to Hunter.

“Drive this blade through my heart, mama…” he whispers, stepping closer until our bodies brush against each other. “…please.” No. I shake my head continuously. Why’s there so much pain in his voice; an intense agony?

It’s heart wrenching and causes my eyes well up with tears as I refuse to tear my gaze from Hunter. I can’t comprehend what’s wrong with him and, for some reason, can’t find the words to ask. I just stand there, utterly confused, wondering what exactly went on with him in the past few hours.

“I can’t afford to hate you. I cannot watch you despise me either,” he raps out, then wraps my stiff fingers around the hilt and guides my hand to press the blade against his chest. No! I’m trying to drop the knife but he’s holding them fingers of mine together. “Please do it; end this once and for all.” 

I force back tears, yet it keeps coming. I’m even about to sob before Hunter’s other hand grips my chin.

He leans down to kiss me again. This time, I feel his shoulders shudder as I reach up with my free hand to cup his cheek. And those tears my fingers brush that’s sliding down his face turns out to be the one thing that causes panic to grip me.

I try to break the kiss, but Hunter’s hand that held my chin grabs my jaws to stop me from moving my head an inch. It hurts, not more than what’s twisting in my chest.

“Wait,” he mumbles breathlessly against my lips and pulls back after a few seconds; just enough to rest his forehead on my shoulder.

I hear his sniffles; the shudder in his breath, and though I don’t know why he’s crying, my tears begin to fall faster.

“Please look at me, Hunter.” I try to lift his head, but he resists.

“Hunter’s gone,” he mutters, his voice a broken whisper.

“I don’t care, Hunter. I―”

“It’s Caryllix now.” Hunter’s tone sounded like he growled. And as surprise grips me at that, darkness descends on me again, this time with him truly gone.