Chapter 2 Where Fire Meets Steel

CHAPTER 2.

The world returned slowly.

First it was the scent of fresh clean linen, then came the sensation... she felt the brush of soft sheets against her skin. Her limbs felt heavy, but her body... her body didn't hurt. Not like it should. She remembered the scream of tires, the blinding headlights, and her body flying through the air like a rag doll. And then... darkness.

Was she dead? No, she felt too annoyed for that. She forced her eyes open.

She took in the beautiful ceiling above her, and the expensive looking chandelier. She winced as her eyes struggled against the bright light, then she sat up and froze completely.

This was not her tiny, cramped apartment with its cracked walls and ugly painting, this was not her world of cheap pizza, expired milk, and thrift-store clothing she rotated like sacred relics... neither was it a hospital either.

This place was a palace.

She sat up straighter and her entire body protested. Her head was now beginning to hum, but she gritted her teeth through it. There was a sitting area near the window, and a fireplace with real flames. Standing there, bathed in the early morning sunlight were two men.

One wore a white coat, obviously a doctor. The other...

Her breath seized.

He stood there with the causal power of a demigod, an aura guaranteed to silence any room with his presence. He had hair as dark as midnight, a body any athlete would be jealous of and a mouth that looked like it never smiled. But what really got her were his eyes... Those eyes were fire that threatened to burn through her soul.

Grey eyes that shone like a wolf's eye, watching her with all the emotion of a storm locked behind a wall of glass.

She stared at him, too stunned to breathe.

God. He looked like a supermodel that belonged in a magazine cover, a forbidden fantasy. The kind of man you hated instantly because he seemed full of danger, privilege, and a charm that could render any female defense useless with one glance.

The doctor was the first to notice her stirring. "Miss... you're awake."

Her voice was rough and weak, but it still carried its usual fire. "Yeah. Seems like whatever concussion I had didn't kill me after all."

The dark-haired man was now looking at her fully, she wished he didn't... not with her feeling so vulnerable on his bed. She hated the way he watched her, with that calmness that spoke volumes.

"Good morning," he said smoothly.

She frowned and snapped at him. "Don't 'good morning' me, tuxedo Batman. What the hell is going on?"

The doctor moved forward. "You were in an accident, you suffered a minor concussion and some bruising but luckily nothing was broken. I've been overseeing your recovery."

"Luckily?" Aria spat in annoyance. "I was hit by a damn car."

"Yes," the strange man said, without any remorse in his tone. "My car."... Blurted out just like that.

Aria's blood ignited. "You?" Her voice was rising. "You ran me over in your overpriced death mobile and then kidnapped me to your luxury Batcave?"

"I brought you to a private medical suite in my estate, and gave you the best doctor around," he said, as though he was rendering her a huge favour and she was being unreasonably difficult.

She swung her legs off the bed, ignoring the sudden burst of pain in her ribs. "So that's what rich psychos do now? pay a generous doctor when they hit someone? Good to know."

"You needed care, and the hospital would have been tight. I made a logical decision."

"Oh, how noble," she snapped, standing on her feet and glaring at him. "You make it sound like you adopted a stray puppy. Let me guess... you felt guilty and decided to keep me here like some broken toy until I healed enough to leave?"

He didn't reply and that made her anger worse.

Aria managed two shaky steps forward, her trembling finger was pointed menacingly at him. "You don't get to act as my savior, you're the one that nearly killed me."

"I didn't see you," he replied calmly. "You were walking in the middle of a dark highway at night."

"Because I was going home! From work! Like a normal, broke person who doesn't have a chauffeur and a fleet of Ferraris at her beck and call!"

The doctor stepped between them, he was clearly uncomfortable with the exchange. "Miss, please. You're still weak..."

"Don't tell me what I am," she growled at him, and he backed off instantly. "I've been taking care of myself since I was sixteen, and I've survived worse things than getting hit by a bored rich kid."

The stranger's eyes widened as a strange expression passed across his face... respect, curiosity, or annoyance.

Aria was simply too angry to care. She took another step forward and then the room began to spin. Her anger deflated instantly, and was quickly replaced by a nauseous feeling. Her knees were weak and wobbling, and before she could react, the stranger was dashing forward, and catching her before she hit the floor.

As soon as her body collapsed into his arms, the last of her fire went out. He was warm, solid, and shockingly gentle for a man who looked like his hobby was snapping necks. She was too dazed to fight him off, too tired to let out another insult.

"It seems like you have a feisty little dragon on your hands, Damien" the doctor remarked behind her. "Give her time and space or she'll be breathing fire all over you."

The stranger sighed slowly, like he was holding himself back. "I've met fire before," he murmured. "This one however is something else."

"She'll wake up again soon, and when she does, she'll be coming for your head next." The doctor said as he headed towards the door.

"I'll be ready," he replied, as he gradually eased her back into the bed.

"Good. Let her sleep, and for God's sake, don't lie to her when she wakes up. You're not the first man who has tried to control a wildfire and gotten burned."

The door clicked shut behind him as he left.

Damien looked at the figure on the bed. She was unconscious now, breathing softly and steadily through slightly parted lips. He stood there for a while, then pulled the blanket to cover her up to her chest.

She looked small and fragile, but he had seen a glimpse of what was behind those eyes. She was no way fragile, she was a volcano that could consume in an instant, and she would be awake soon.

When she woke, she'd want answers. He just hadn't decided yet how much truth he was willing to give her.

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