Chapter Six

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"I'm a dark pix, Geralt."

Geralt thought for a moment. It seemed like an unbelievable name for something he had never heard of. But the way she looked at him and awaited for his response, he shook his head.

"A what?"

"Dark pix," she said. "It's historically known as the short term for darkened pixie. And they're aren't many left, we're almost officially extinct."

Victoria pulled the blanket away from Geralt and wrapped it around her as she leaned forward.

"I wasn't aware of them myself." She said. "I didn't know they existed. . . And I also didn't believe that I was actually one of them."

Geralt stood to his feet and walked around the small room.

"When I was a young girl, my mother, I guess, saw different changes in me. I don't even remember what she could've meant, but she brought it to my father's attention, and he wanted to look into it. . . They couldn't figure anything out, but the day that my mother was killed outside of our home, an old woman came and told my father what I was."

Victoria shifted on the floor, winced as her leg ached.

"My father turned cold after my mother's death. He treated me like a slave, like I truly wasn't his daughter. . . And a few weeks ago, I couldn't take it any longer. . . And so I killed him."

Geralt looked at her as she stared down at her folded hands.

"His men are after me. . . And Nilfgaard. That is why I'm on the run."

Geralt remained silent. The witcher inhaled as he crossed the room, standing before her.

"I didn't tell you because of who you are. I'm not a monster. I'm not who they say I am. . . And neither are you."

Victoria managed to get to her feet, but failed to walk right. As she fell forward, Geralt caught her, and she planted her hands against his chest in surprise.

"How do you know that I'm not like everyone else?" Geralt said, his hands closing in on her hips. "A butcher, a mutant."

"Because the day you found me, you could've killed me or left me on my own to die." She said. "But you didn't. . . you took me with you."

Geralt pulled her flesh to his, and she swallowed nervously.

"And how do you know it wasn't all for my own reward? Or pleasure?"

"Because you haven't done anything." She said quietly.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, until Victoria broke the silence between them. She pinched his medallion between her fingers.

"Send me away, if you must." She said, trying to disguise the hurt in her voice. "I deserve what's coming, whether I want it to or not."

Geralt didn't release her. Instead, he turned away and sat her on the bed. Victoria looked up at him in shock.

"You need to rest." He said, walking towards the door on the other side of the room. "We leave at the ass crack of dawn."

Victoria crawled back until her back was against the headboard. She hugged herself as she was buried inside of the blanket, watching the door he had got in to.

Seconds later he walked out, wearing only his dark trousers. His chest was bare, revealing every scar he held.

He walked towards the bed, and she couldn't help but stare at his long hair that was pulled back halfway to keep out of his face. It looked much cleaner now, much more neat.

Geralt sat on the bed beside her, and she scooted away to give him room. It was a rather small bed, and she knew that at some point she would probably wake up too close to him.

She did the unexpected, and placed her hand on his bicep. Geralt tilted his head and looked at her, noticing that she was staring at the scar.

"I would ask you how you got them, but I doubt you'd remember." She said, tracing her finger over the dip in his skin. Her hand stopped moving when he placed his hand over her own.

"I remember them all."

Victoria swallowed as she stared at his face. He was incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful. She had never seen such a face, especially on a witcher.

"One thing about me." She said. "When people no longer block their minds, I can read their thoughts. . ."

She had moved closer to Geralt, who was staring at the blanket that was slowly slipping from her collarbone.

"Tell me, Geralt." She said, watching as he moved his face closer to hers. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Geralt released her hand and slid his own up her arm, resting on her shoulder. Victoria's heart raced inside of her chest as her forehead pressed to his.

Within seconds, Geralt's lips pressed to hers. She was as still as a statue for a moment, until she decided to kiss him back.

Victoria craved more, she craved him. She wanted him badly. She had never experienced a craving of lust, after knowing someone for a short period of time.

She placed her hand to his cheek, melting at his touch as she felt the smoothness of his lips against hers. Victoria exhaled into their kiss.

As she tried to move forward, she yelped in pain as her leg brushed against the blankets. Geralt pulled his lips away from hers, watching as she tried to hide the look of pain on her face.

"Not tonight." He said, sitting up slowly. Victoria returned to her original position beside him, holding her hand to her stinging thigh.

"I've never been that way." She said, running her thumb across her bottom lip. She didn't want the feeling to go away, but she felt guilty for it. "I'm sorry."

Geralt turned his head and looked at her. "A naked woman has never apologized to me in bed before."

Victoria sat up and wrapped the blanket around her tighter. "I'm not like most women. I don't call for the attention. Not then, not now."

"Hmm, but would you have stopped if your leg wasn't injured?"

The woman felt her cheeks become flushed. She laid there with her back to him, unaware of the smirk on his face.

"Probably not."

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