In the gleaming surface of an antique mirror wide eyes that lacked luster look intently at the bandage on her neckline. Fingers teased the edge of the adhered surface. An everlasting mark was the only material reminder of the castigation her body had suffered. Encircled by a dull golden bruise was a flawlessly shaped crescent moon imbedded in the slender column of insipid skin. The skin that had grown to close the gap in her skin was light pink in color, the surface still emaciated and glossy. It was rather tender, bringing a wince from her lips as she completed removing the dressing.
Blood boiled under the cool surface of her stoic glare. Under the pad of her thin finger the newly formed skin still felt hot to the touch. Tracing the evident bite mark a sting of pain hit her in the chest.
Pride. Such a horrid complex. Yet when it is stolen from you it pierces the spirit like a searing knife. Unfortunately lessons worth learning never came easy. They always left a mark. Only this one had left a visible reminder that she was not as invincible as she liked to think.
The knock on the door startled her. No one ever knocked. They just came in. Weak but in much better spirits, physically at least, she gathered herself up from the seat at the vanity. As she eased her aching body down the stairs the whip of hair that was twisted into a braid swung back and forth like a pendulum. Layers of sweeping black silk was wrapped around her lithe frame and tied by a thick band at her waist.
“May I help you?” Selene asked in a pleasant tone as she pulled the door open. Her dark eyes were highlighted by diminished purple marks that seemed to accent just how ghastly white she was. All she needed was time and patience; soon she would be right as rain. It was a shame she had all the time in the world but no patience to speak of.