Silence passed between the two and Isadora could not seem to look away from the devilish man.
Sweat shimmered against his sharp angular features, his silver shaded hair, giving off a shiny contour with dark roots. Thick strands fell across his forehead—a different contrast with his dark eyebrows.
But it wasn't his appearance that stopped Isadora dead in her tracks. It was his eyes—they were unlike anything she'd ever seen.
They were a color of pure silver with darker shades like they were in a dance of light and shadow. They both radiated a murderous intent and twisted amusement.
Is this the man she's meant to heal? She glanced at the black dagger sticking on his side, black veins spreading on his golden-brown skin. Isadora had seen so much blood and gore, that not once did she flinch away.
However, now she could only recoil, whoever stabbed him had a heavy intent of killing him.
"Isadora!"
Her eyes snapped to Dashwell standing at the far corner, he'd always held a persona of power but right now he looked no better than a cowering fool.
"You must heal him, that is the only way he will spare us," he said whimpering before ducking his head in fear. "How could you attempt to run? At the cost of others' lives?"
"Shut your mouth!" Rav snarled from behind.
"Don't worry Rav, you'll have the chance to take his tongue" Kraven said in a relaxed tone like the wind passing through.
Dashwell dropped to his knees and began begging for his life.
Ignoring the whimpering fat ball, he asked "What is her name?"
"Isadora," Rav replied.
"Father's name?"
Rav looked at Isadora, who hadn't taken her eyes away from Kraven. It was like she was under a spell he cast, but it was nothing more than the girl being blinded by fright.
It was just a look, and yet it felt as if she was held under an invisible force. How can someone's eyes possess so much power?
"I guess you'll ask her yourself" Rav responded walking to the bar for a drink.
"Isadora" Kraven tasted her name on his lips and she flinched in response, he said her name like he owed it and would bury it in the dirt if he had the chance.
"Kraven" he introduced with ease.
But the situation was nothing more than casual, it was a clear overpowering nature of a beast in the same room with its prey.
"Come closer"
Isadora hesitated, not because of Dashwell who was still sobbing on the floor but because she felt as if she would make a move towards something she couldn't come back from.
"I don't like repeating myself," he said with clenched teeth, irritated by her hesitancy.
With heavy legs, Isadora took steps toward him.
"Sit," he commanded, taking the cup of ale and finishing the contents.
A tap on the empty cup was a silent message he needed more and Serena rushed to fetch him more ale.
Isadora sat and the chair creaked under her weight. She remained still with her eyes focused on his wound instead of his eyes, they were unsettling to look at and the gruesome wound was a means of ease.
"It seems you're familiar with blood, Isadora"
She winched but made no move to speak. Hearing a grunt from him, his foot dragged her chair closer and Isadora panicked as her knees neared his parted thighs.
With a smirk still evident, Kraven tilted his head to the side, studying the timid girl who'd caught his attention all night.
Ever since she walked into the room with her hideous dress, seated with the Jarla's and attempting to flee—the girl in his dreams.
"Go on…" he said. "Weave for your life"
Isadora took a hard gulp before raising her gaze.
Firmly she opened her mouth to speak and he watched with utmost attention like a child engrossed in his first toy.
"If I heal you, you let me go" Her voice was barely audible but he heard every word.
Kraven broke into a pearl of laughter, taking his head back in amusement.
She was caught off guard by his response and wondered if she said something funny.
As the excitement died, his loud laughter turned into deep chuckles, and he tilted his head. "You want a deal?"
Isadora's fist clenched tightly, casting a look at Dashwell on the floor glaring at her, it was obvious what she wanted and he gave a warning look not to do anything stupid.
"Eyes on me!" Kraven seethed, disliking her dividing attention.
Isadora quickly brought her eyes back to him and nodded.
"Then a deal you have"
With a pounding heartbeat, she reached for the dagger.
"Kraven!" Rav warned.
"It's alright Rav," he said, keeping his eyes on Isadora, who pulled the dagger out with swiftness.
Isadora tried not to overthink the situation but it was hard not to. This man was inhumane. She had just taken out a poisoned dagger buried within him, and yet not a look of distress or pain against his features.
'What is he?' she thought disturbed by his demeanor because not once did his smirk waver.
Isadora focused on her task... taking a deep breath, she rotated her wrists and concentrated deeply—swiftly, threads formed on her fingertips, moving toward the wound.
She wanted to tell him this would hurt because the greater the wound the greater the pain to bear. But he did not respond to any discomfort and simply drowned in his ale as she offered medical attention.
Isadora cleared her throat and got back to work, focusing on repairing the damaged tissues and blood veins.
The skin closed, leaving no trace of scar. Only the blood showed there had been a wound there.
"Remarkable," Rav said, astonished by her abilities. He'd met other skin weavers before but none could achieve what she just did.
Isadora's hands quivered uncontrollably, an aftereffect of her work. A feeling of faintness overwhelmed her. Groaning in discomfort she attempted to lean away to steady herself but Kraven grabbed her hand, causing her to gasp in surprise.
His hands were surprisingly warm for someone like him.
"You could have healed that Jarla," he said, his voice suddenly deeper than usual.
Isadora's eyes found Bryndor's lifeless body just a few paces from them. And then she felt Kraven's breath on her neck and his voice in her ears.
"And yet you watch him die"