Her Soul and His Blood novel Chapter 29

Missing Red stone

The left side of his faint red lip tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk on his god like face, he remained her of Lance. Casting a spell of lust to eyes that dare look his way, a lust to resist.

He looked at her extreme anger but her eyes made him calm, he kind of had an attraction towards her. Controlling every inch of his urge and a masking an anger on his face he asked,

" Let me know your last wish ?" He asked.

"My last wish is be with you holding your hand." Zella said with a soft voice.

His laugh echoed when he heard this from her.The smirk grew over his face like a lazy teacher's check mark, the faded "red ink" stretching up into his dimple.

"You wanted to be with me, then be with me."

He walked towards her, held her and make her to stand on her feet.Her gaze slid to the side. He pulled her against his chest. His nose tickled her ear. She let out a tiny gasp and squirmed uncomfortably. She didn't like being so intimately handled. She felt his lips softly graze her slender neck. Her face heated. She summoned enough courage to meet his gaze. His hazel eyes twinkled, it change to bloody red but not with rage or fury but with something else which is very difficult to explain.

' He knows! He's trying to make me feel like this.'

She pushed him slightly away and held his hand.

££££££££

They both entered to a different world. They both saw everything as if they are watching a movie. His mother's murder by Mr. Peterson, his father being betrayed by his foster father. How he was manipulated. He saw everything what he never wish to see.

££££££

They entered the present, Hance pushed her away , tears shed through his eyes.

********

Back there in Mr. Peterson's house

Hance is severely injured, lying on the bed unconscious for hours. Merlin sat beside him trying to cure him and heal his injuries.

He opens his eyes, moves his lip, the depth of his injury reduced.It was like a vexing of the soul for what he felt was not human, it was twisted and distorted but it was something strong. It burned so bad like fire lacing his veins and creeping up his spine, all he could feel was desire; desire to hate. He was intoxicated with emotion he had no intention of ever feeling, the acidity of it was residing in his stomach waiting to be spat out of his mouth in foul and vulgar words he would be stared at for saying, except he wasn't going to say them, he was going to screech them with every ounce of breath that dwelled in his lungs.

"Where is Zella, how long am I unconscious ?" His said in a shivering tone.