Her first cut
1300 Words
Anara.
The knock on my chamber door came at dawn.
I was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed in my training clothes, my braid half-done and my boots waiting by my feet.
The night had been restless. I couldn’t stop thinking about Evelyn’s frail hands, her quiet warnings. Or the way Lucien’s golden eyes seemed to burn into me every time.
I tied the braid tight, as if I could braid my anger into it, and stood to answer the door.
Darius leaned lazily against the frame, already dressed in his own black tunic and boots, a dagger spinning idly in his fingers. His grin was infuriating this early.
“You’re awake,” he said, surprised. “Didn’t peg you for the eager type.”
I stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind me.
“I’m not eager,” i muttered, brushing past him. “Just want to get this over with.”
He followed me, chuckling under his breath.
“That’s the spirit. Come on, little witch. Let’s see if you can actually keep up.”
*********
The stones were still damp with morning dew, a faint mist curling in the air.
Darius led me to the center of the yard and handed me a training blade.
I gripped it, testing its weight, and squared my shoulders.
Darius circled me slowly, his gaze sharper now, serious even beneath his grin.
“First lesson,” he said. “The shadows are yours. But they’re wild. You don’t fight them… but you don’t let them fight you either.”
I nodded, jaw tight.
“I know.”
“Do you?” he murmured.
And before I could answer, he lunged.
The metal of his blade rang against mine as I barely managed to block in time.
The force sent me stumbling back a step, but I recovered fast, planting my feet firmly on the ground and pushing forward.
“Better,” Darius said with a smirk. “But you’re thinking too much. Stop thinking. Command them.”
The shadows stirred faintly at my feet, dark tendrils curling outward, waiting.
Darius struck again, faster, and i dodged, the shadows snapping up in a sharp wall between them like a reflex.
His grin widened.
“There it is,” he said, voice low. “Don’t waste your breath. Just own it.”
I straightened, breathing hard, my hands tightening on the blade.
I could feel it — the power humming under my skin, the whispers of the shadows clawing to be let loose.
I glared at him and called them back sharply.
“Back.”
The tendrils slipped back beneath my boots, silent and obedient.
Darius whistled softly.
“Not bad at all,” he said. “Looks like there’s hope for you yet.”
I raised my chin confidently.
“Told you I could handle it.”
He chuckled, stepping back and tossing his blade from hand to hand.
Darius leaned on his blade, watching as I called the shadows back into place with one sharp command.
Even I was impressed.
“Not bad,” he said, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “Not bad at all. But don’t get cocky, little witch. That’s when you get sloppy.”
I straightened, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.
“Sloppy isn’t what you called me after I blocked that last strike.”
He barked out a laugh, tossing his blade into the air and catching it easily.
“Touché. Still, you’re not done yet.”
He nodded toward the table where two practice swords lay gleaming under the morning light.
“Come on. Let’s see if you can handle steel as well as you handle shadows.”
I followed, stretching my shoulders and shooting him a dry look.
“You really enjoy this, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” he said with a smirk, handing me one of the swords. “It’s not every day someone actually gives me a challenge around here.”
I accepted the blade and tested its weight, gripping the hilt tight.
“Then don’t hold back.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Darius replied, circling her with a predator’s grin. “I won’t.
We began to circle, the morning sun glinting off the polished steel.
Darius struck first — a teasing diagonal swipe, testing my reflexes. Which I blocked cleanly, the blades clashing with a sharp clang.
“Not bad,” he murmured. “But don’t think too much. Your enemy won’t wait for you to figure it out.”
“Neither will you,” I shot back, stepping into his next attack and forcing him to adjust his footing.
That earned me a wolfish grin.
“Exactly.”
His strikes came quicker now, his footwork sharper, testing every inch of my focus.
I met each one, my breathing fast but even, my grip tightening on the hilt as the shadows stirred faintly at my feet.
But then—he feinted low and came up fast, the edge of his blade slipping past my guard and grazing the side of my neck.
I hissed, stumbling back as the sting of steel bloomed against my skin. The sword falling from my hand to the ground.
I dropped my hand to the cut, feeling the warmth of my own blood.
Darius’s grin faded instantly, and he lowered his blade.
“s**t,” he muttered, stepping closer. “Didn’t mean to actually—hold still, let me see.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing my chin gently as he tilted my head to inspect the thin line of crimson on my pale skin.
His eyes softened slightly, though the corner of his mouth still quirked in faint amusement.
“Barely a scratch,” he murmured. “But we should clean it before someone—”
“Step Away.”
The words were quiet. Deadly.
We both froze.
Lucien stood at the far end of the courtyard, golden eyes blazing, his long coat catching in the breeze as he stalked forward.
My breath caught at the fury radiating from him. The shadows at his feet writhed and bled outward like smoke.
Darius dropped his hand immediately and stepped back, though his smirk lingered.
“Ah. There he is.”
But Lucien didn’t even glance at his cousin. His eyes were locked on mine — on the thin streak of blood, on the way I still held my fingers to my neck.
He stopped only when he stood in front of me,his gaze dropping to where Darius’s blade had kissed my skin.
“What,” Lucien said darkly, “do you think you’re doing?”
Darius just leaned on his sword, tilting his head lazily.
“Teaching her to fight. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I didn’t ask you to hurt her.”
“Oh, please,” Darius drawled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “She barely bled.”
Lucien’s lip curled, a faint snarl in his voice.
“You’ll keep your hands off her from now on. Am I clear?”
I didn't exactly appreciate his overreaction, after all Darius was only training. But knowing Lucien I was in no mood to fight with him.
The courtyard went still.
Darius raised a brow but only gave a low laugh.
“Crystal.”
Lucien finally turned back to me, his jaw still tight as his golden gaze swept over me.
His hand rose to catch mine, pulling it gently from my neck so he could see the cut himself.
And the way his thumb brushed the blood away — soft, careful — made my breath hitch.
The fire in his eyes was still there, but beneath it… something else lingered.
Possessive. Protective. Terrifying.
- Writer
