Born Enemies

Chapter Eleven: Amara

He gazed down silently at the sleeping head resting inches from his own. His even breaths were warm and soft as they blew in his face. His normally tense and scowling features were relaxed, making him seem younger than his 22 earth cycles and innocent, but he wasn't fooled. He'd seen those flashes of pain in the honey depths, saw the tremble in his hands as if he was holding something back. Amara could sense he'd been hurt in the past, hurt so badly that he used his sharp tongue and crude attitude as a cloak of defense, which he wore like a protective shield. He was curious to know who would hurt such beauty so deeply that he would rather push people away. Then again, he was no better. Unlike him, he wasn't so deeply scared or afraid of getting close to others. He was simply trained from a very young age never to recklessly trust or be emotional. Every thought and action was thought through before being carried out. He was taught to always remain alert and in control.

Celestine, on the other hand, had been hurt.

Even now, as he watched him sleep beside him, he could sense that he was far from relaxed.

His thin eyelids flickered as his eyes moved underneath them. His small hands clutched tightly onto his blankets as a deep frown drew down those kissable lips. He wasn't aware of what he was doing until it was too late. Before he knew it, he had reached out, his fingers stroked his hair. When he realized what he was doing, his hand froze as his breath stilled in his lungs.

Shit.

Amara stared down in amazement at his hand, as if it had grown a mind of its own. His eyes took in how his fingers tangled in the long dark amber hair, which he noticed was soft and silky to the touch.

He involuntarily rubbed a lock between his thumb and fingers as his gaze dropped to gauge his reaction. His eyes had stopped moving under his thin lids, the frown on his mouth had smoothed out and the tension relaxed. He was a lot more gorgeous like this. Amara felt his lips twitch before he slowly began to take back his hand, trying not to wake him. He slowly rolled onto his back, mindful of his battered body, which Cel had spent the entire day caring for. Amara stared up at the arched ceiling of the cave as he began to recall what led up to this point.

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"Be careful," his words repeated in his mind as he stepped out of the safety of the cave. Even though he'd said a whole bunch of other things and his tone was biting, Amara was able to detect true concern for his well being under all that layer. His gaze flickered back to the cave. A soft, soundless chuckle escaped from between his lips. Pushing down the pleasant sensations spreading through his stomach, Amara turned serious. His mind and body went on high alert as his right hand drifted down to wrap around the hilt of his sword. He immediately began to look for signs of what had chased them the night before. He barely began to look when he promptly saw exactly what he was searching for.

The track marks were huge and deep. He crouched down, his fingers tracing the outer edge of a track. The unknown creature was massive, weighing more than 500 stones with four powerful legs. It wasn't tall. Its height was somewhere between 15 and 17 hands. Judging by how deep the mark was, its hide was probably armored. Raising from his crouched position, he turned to look at the cave and blinked, glad that he had the presence of mind to seal off the cave. Surrounding the untouched cave were uprooted trees and smashed borders. It looked like his fast actions pissed off the creature. Muscles coiling tightly with mounting adrenaline and tension, he stalked away from the cave. He concealed his presence, his steps, and stealth as he followed track marks. Amara decided not to leave it to fate and left markings on trees to help guide his way back as he moved deeper and deeper into the forest. With the help of the bright sunlight, he was able to get a good look at the place. It was filled with colors and plants he did not recognize. He was careful not to touch any of the plants. Amara paused, freezing as it dawned on him, it was too quiet. He'd been so focused on the track, avoiding touching the plants and leaving marks that were distinctive enough for him to recognize, but not for any other intelligent life forms. As he became aware of the unnatural stillness of the air, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose. It was his years of training that made him react the way he did. Amara threw himself to his right, keeping his body low as he rolled onto his side, his sword leaving its scabbard with a flick of his wrists as he came up into a low defensive crouch. "There you are." He hissed as he got a look at what was stalking him. For an enormous animal, it moved quite stealthily despite its weight and heavy armor. Like he'd read from its track, it wasn't tall. It had four legs that ended in three-toed hooves. Thick bright armor like the color of autumn leaves covered its snot, head, sides, back, and legs. Its head was shaped like that of a horse. Its eyes were small and black. However, it was the long, slender tail attached to the base of its spine that had him worried. Because at the very end, there were four deadly sharp barbs at the end. Amara made a note of its soft underside before he dodging its bribed tail. He narrowly escaped its tail when it charged him, moving remarkably fast despite its heavy armor. Amara brought up his sword, the sharp, unbreakable blade taking up the brunt of the head-on collision, but the force knocked him off of his feet. He went flying more than six feet and flipped in midair so that he landed on his feet. Okay, maybe he wasn't prepared for its speed. He was done playing nice. He needed to take it down fast before he received more damage. He was charged. It was a quick and brutal fight. He ended up taking more damage than he wanted, but in the end, he managed to slide under it. The tip of his sword pierced through its soft underside. He dragged the sword through its stomach. The blood and intestines powered down on him, thoroughly. The ground shook for the last time as the massive body toppled to the ground. Amara dragged himself up, his body screaming in pain and fatigue settled in, the adrenaline rapidly disappearing. Shaking the excess blood off his sword, he cautiously approached the fallen beast. Researching his sword, Amara squatted down beside the body and pulled out a smaller blade from the depths of his left boot. He began to remove its heavy armor. It didn't take him long before he had removed every square inch of the thick, heavy hide and stored it in his storage ring.

He will finish cleaning it up later.

The trip back was quick because he had his earlier mark to guide him. Amara dragged his sore body through the cave entrance and stumbled a few steps towards the fire. He collapsed onto the ground, his legs giving out. Taking a moment to breathe and gather himself, he noticed the changes Cel made to the cave. Sharp, unique drawings covered the walls and ground of the cave. As his eyes took in the runes etched around the cave, he also noticed that he'd also rearranged everything. Then he became aware of the scent he'd recognized. His eyes zeroed in on the light yellow blanket hanging up in one of the far corners of the cave. He watched the shadow move, unable to look away as his breathing slowed, evening out as his blood stirred, his lower regions hardening in response to the alluring show before him. Though he washed that the blanket was not blocking his sight, he listened to the soft music Cel hummed as he bathed. The medley was soothing and relaxing. He never sang a note, but it was beautiful regardless. Watching the curtain through hooded lashes, he sat up slightly from his slouched position when Cel rounded the curtain. His heart lurched, his spine involuntarily straightening up as his eyes trailed hungrily over his body, lingering on every patch of exposed, lightly tanned skin. The robe he wore was light, which became soaked through as water soaked through it. His enhanced sight allowed him to make out the hardened buds of his n*****s which poked at the material. The robe was clumsily tied around his body, exposing more skin than covering it, and he appreciated it. He wanted to feel the smooth satin skin of his leg with his hands and kiss the beautiful smooth skin of his chest. His fingers twitched, itching to touch all that exposed skin as his tongue licked across his suddenly dried lips. He felt like a perv, but he couldn't stop his body's reaction.

If he didn't have him soon, then he was afraid he would go mad.

When Cel noticed him, Amara thought of anything and everything he hated with a passion to control his body's s****l reaction towards him as he was treated with such care and tenderness. For the first time in his life, he was treated with intense tender care and the person who treated him so was none other than his enemy. With biting words and a sarcastic attitude, he forced him to talk as he cared for him, making sure he stayed conscious. As he told him about the fight he had with the unknown creature and how he decided to save its armor after killing it, he listened even as his focus towards his care never wavered. When he finished wiping him off the blood and intestines that covered him, he even took the time to cook for him, a drastic change from that very morning, when he only shared a cup of tea with him.

The memory brought a smile to his face, a rare sighting he was glad Neil wasn't there to witness.

He was dozing off when a warm heavyweight suddenly rested on his chest. He peeled his eyes open and stiffened when he peered down at a mass of thick amber locks. Cel had rolled over to him, his head rested on his chest and his arm flung across his torso, hugging him close. His heart skipped a beat and for a second, a split second, he considered pushing him away, but when he moved even closer to him, he let him be. Who knew when he would have another chance to get this close to him again? Certainly not when he was conscious. Amara hesitantly freed his arm from under his weight and wrapped it around his waist, holding him close as he allowed his eyes to close. For the first time since his mother's disappearance, he slept peacefully and deeply.