Chapter Text
Chapter One
Her days were the same. Her nights were the same. Her life was the same.
Day by day.
Kagome stared down at the dark soil beneath her hands. She gave back to the village in so many ways. She healed. She helped the ground to grow in the fields. She gathered herbs for medicine. She soothed the sick and played with the children. She purified demons and defended those that would be wronged.
It was her duty to others to simply do.
To give.
They took and she gave.
She was a Priestess. She was respected. Perhaps even revered. That was her life.
Never changing.
Her stomach tightened as she withdrew her hands. Dirt stained her pale skin, dark smudges beneath her nails where her fingers had been buried in the soil to purify the ground. Such a thing was tiring. She could feel the draining weakness left behind; but it had needed to be done. They couldn't harvest with demon tainted soil.
Demon blood was a horrid thing in the ground.
A chill raced down her spine.
What was that?
Kagome lifted her head; dread filled her.
Anger filled her. A murderous rage.
Kagome's gut clenched. What was that…?
It pulled at her—an emotion that rippled through the air like a live thing. The rage she felt was so heavy.
And then she heard it.
The roar.
It echoed and vibrated through the air heavily with such fury and power that her spiritual energy sparked along her skin. Her head snapped up—the roar wasn't vocal. It was in the air, the energy following. But it was silent. It was almost like it was in her head.
Demon.
A powerful one. She could feel the energy butting against her own out of natural instinct. Powerful. Ancient.
Her mouth dried as she pushed herself up from the ground and dusted her hands off against her red kimono. A demon. She could feel the slight drain from here—which could only mean one thing.
The Demon was wounded.
And a wounded Demon was far more dangerous than a whole one.
Her heart began a steady pound as she left the small field and started towards the village. Her chest and stomach tightened with that same dread. She stopped; she turned in the opposite direction.
Not the village.
He wasn't in the village. But he was close. Too close.
Another jolt of demonic energy flared outward, and Kagome nearly stumbled. Gods help her, it nearly sent her to her knees. There was power in that pulse of energy. Something ancient and deadly. Something old.
What was something so ancient doing so near her village?
She couldn't stop the answering pulse of energy that flickered at her fingertips as she drew closer to the forest.
The Demon Forest.
She didn't have her bow and arrows, but she didn't need them. She was a weapon herself.
It came at her again—the echoing pulse of energy in her mind that sounded so much like a roar.
She saw him the moment she reached the center.
He was angry. And he was held trapped by the arrow pining him to the tree.
He was covered in streaks of blood, dirt and sweat.
She'd never seen such long, pale hair. The sight alone stopped her dead in her tracks. It must have been beautiful at one time. Now it was twisted and tangled and matted with blood. He was shirtless, the remaining pieces of cloth lay tattered around his waist. His once white pants were soaked through with sweat and his own blood, streaks of dirt in dark patches. Even though the arrow pinned him through the shoulder, a paper sutra was plastered against his chest. It steadily pumped burning spiritual energy into him.
And those eyes.
Golden eyes.
Amber eyes.
Eyes so molten they burned with seething rage.
And that rage stared into the blue of her own eyes.
A chill raced down her spine when his lips twisted. Sharp canine teeth snarled at her. Her eyes dropped to the scattered arrows and a pitchfork lying off to one side. Blood stained the tips, and her gaze jerked to his bare chest. He wasn't just held pinned—he'd been tortured.
The items on the ground were manmade. But the arrow pinning him to the tree was infused with holy energy. Something she was very familiar with.
It made her sick.
She cared little for demons but that didn't mean she went around torturing them. She gave as good as she got. But this…
This was purpose.
This was torture for the sake of torture.
Her eyes moved over the magenta stripes on his cheek and the crescent on his forehead. He was prominently demon. His markings spoke of old linage, if she remembered her teachings correctly. Kagome swallowed nervously as she approached.
This was horrible.
"It was you I felt, wasn't it?" Kagome asked softly.
He snarled at her words and Kagome had the distinct impression that she would have been dead if not for the arrow binding him. He couldn't have been here long. She would have felt him long before now. He'd been here days maybe.
Tortured for days on end from the looks.
Kagome held up her hands defensively. Her spirit was fighting her on the inside, and she had to push back the energy that was struggling to surface at the close proximity of his demonic energy. "I'm not going to hurt you. I don't know who did this to you, but…" Her words trailed off because his eyes followed her movements, the way her hands lifted.
"They're wrong." She cautiously moved closer, her eyes watching the arrow. A part of her was afraid the spell would break. And if it did?
She'd be dead.
"Let me help you." Kagome said softly. "I know I'm a Priestess, but I'm not going to hurt you." She chose her words carefully because she could see his eyes all too clearly. There was distrust guided by pain.
Was it one of hers? Had one of her own people been so foolish as to trap this Demon Lord on their own? They were better than this, dammit.
"I felt you." And I'm so sorry. Kagome cautiously closed the distance, but her fingers hesitated inches from touching his chest. She lifted her head. "I'm not going to hurt you." She said again cautiously. She carefully touched the sutra on his chest and then slowly peeled the thin paper off his chest. The skin was raw beneath. It had been placed with intention—the flow of energy was meant to sear his skin.
"I'm sorry." Kagome whispered at the sudden hiss of breath he gave, the way his chest rose and fell when she peeled the sutra back.
This was uncalled for. She'd slain many demons since becoming a Priestess; but she'd never tortured a Demon.
It occurred to her that she was being foolish. Maybe he'd been bound for a reason. It occurred to her that maybe she was making a mistake in freeing him. Why save a Demon that could very well kill her afterward? Her eyes dropped to the two swords at his feet. Were they his?
"I'm going to pull the arrow out." She hesitated and then added. "Please don't kill me." Foolish, her sanity whispered.
Kagome hesitantly touched the arrow with her fingertips. She had to wonder if the arrow was the worst part for him. She held her breath for a split second before she closed her hand around the arrow. The wards imbued were powerful.
But not as powerful as her own.
Kagome blasted channeled energy into the arrow and broke the spiritual bindings.
Her world spun. Literally.
He moved as if he'd never been bound, even though the arrow still protruded from his shoulder. His hand was around her throat; she'd never even seen him move. Clawed fingers squeezed the very breath from her as he lifted her until her feet were dangling.
Very foolish, Kagome realized. Panic filled her because she couldn't breathe as she dangled in her hand. And all he did was fucking stare at her with those amber eyes.
He was going to kill her. She'd saved him and he was going to kill her. Kagome knew that without a doubt. She watched through blurred vision as his free hand lifted and ripped the arrow from his shoulder. Blood pooled and ran freely down his chest before the wound slowly began to close. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she hit the clawed hand holding her up.
She could feel him for the first time—really feel him without any spiritual bindings holding him back. She was right—he was ancient. He was old. He was powerful.
And he was going to kill her—
He lowered her abruptly until the tips of her toes slid along the ground. Just enough for purchase. He dipped his head, and Kagome could feel the warmth of breath against her neck and the slick blood of his wounds staining her cheek and her kimono.
He dropped her just as her vision started to blacken at the edges.
Kagome hit the twisted roots of the tree on her knees and then kneeled over, gasping and coughing as she struggled to draw air past her restricted throat. When she lifted her head, he was gone.
-YOUR REVIEWS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME-