I never spoke to Victoria about it after that day. I wanted to, but I didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was about it all. No matter my opinions.

In the week that had passed since the party, I found Aramis everywhere. Or rather, he made it so he was found as often as possible. I'd see him at the edge of my periphery when sorting through the shelves at work. Like a secret that everyone knows, but is just waiting for someone to speak it aloud, so it can no longer be a secret any more.

I'd smile each time.

"Fancy meeting you here" he'd say, every time with a gentle grin as he met my eyes, taking it as a welcome to approach.

He would laugh, in a warming, fuzzy, manner, that caused goosebumps to ripple up my arms and along my back; and he would so at pretty much every remark I said even if it was at his own expense.

Then he would be waiting for me in the late afternoon, when my work was done, and the molten gold of the sun dyed the clouds orange. Insisting that he walk me at least some of the way, and we would chat and laugh, and I found myself not missing my solitude one bit. My yearn to be alone instead stood at the sidelines, smiling encouragingly, like a supportive parent or friend.

"Stalker, don't you have anything better to do than follow me around?" I'd jab on the fourth day. I'd meant it half-heartedly, but instead of a laugh, I received an awkward chuckle and a furrowed brow. This preceded the jab of guilt the following day when I did not see him at all. I'd pause from the shelves to try and spot the shapes in the corner of my eyes, expecting a warm greeting, only to find strangers and shadows.

I lingered, a minute or two longer after finishing work. Just in case he should be running late. I don't know what I expected. Surely he hadn't taken such a great offence to being called that? We'd been teasing each other every day. Did I imply too negatively that he was coming on too strong? Or maybe it touched a nerve I had no business exposing? Regardless I didn't meant it.

As a few minutes turned in to ten, I learned that instead of the walking companion I had grown accustomed to over the passed few days, I was met with guilt. Solitude's disapproving sibling.

I did my best to shake their dripping arm that lay heavily upon my shoulder, like a drunk frat boy, but I couldn't, and instead decided to trudge along home, waiting no longer for more physical company.

I usually love this time. Walking home in the late afternoon. The rustle of leaves beneath my boots, the crunch of twigs, and scurry of beasts all off set by the sleepy colours of the sky poking through the canopy.

But this time it felt daunting. The trees seemed to stretch and groan, intimidatingly challenging me to pass by them. Each snap of a fallen branch, was like a nip at the heels by a territorial dog. Their height was dizzying, the grey-white of the sky serving nothing but to accentuate the angry shapes of the leaves and arms before it. The brush became humanoid, smiling menacingly, the shaking of the woodlands creatures in its body working as toying gestures. It goaded me further into picking up my pace as I strode strongly onwards, my breathing becoming heavy.

I began muttering on instinct. Drawing. Calling, something to me. I felt unsafe. I needed safety and protection, or something to push me harder and faster to the comfort of my home.

"I'm not sure why, but he likes you." I stopped in my tracks. My heart pounding in my ears. I knew that voice, and it intimidated me even more so than the first time.

My eyes eventually fell upon the feminine figure of Bethany. I was aghast with confusion as she looked upon me, the ruby red of her heels planted firmly into a tree as she stood fifteen foot perpendicular with the ground, like gravity was where she placed it.

"My dear old brother. He has no idea what you, or your friend are. But I do. I've studied your kind for a very long time, almost like a hobby" She sighed whimsically, as she took delicate steps down the tree, before stepping on to the ground. "It's why, I have no doubt, that you know what we are..." She mused, her eyes alight with curiosity and a restrained giddiness, like a child watching the puzzle pieces come together.

I remained silent, holding still, my eyes and ears focused solely on the figure before me, so focused that I couldn't process what she was saying. Only react. She stood not ten feet before me. Hands in tiny white gloves, folded in front of her, a summer hat sits gently upon her head as the wind teased at the hem of a flowery skirt.

"So I'm curious, Witch" her term so matter-of-factly that it cried a victory of battle "Did you charm my brother? Ensorcel him maybe?"

I opened my mouth to stutter a protest only be cut short by a silvery, well trained laugh, as Bethany covered her mouth with one gloved hand before returning it to the other one in front of her.

"No. Something tells me that you could not achieve such a thing"

"Careful" I squeaked, a sudden rise pulled fourth from my spine bit back at the thinly veiled insult.

"Pardon me? Did you say something?" She goaded, a challenging smirk playing on her lips. I shouldn't reply. Everything in my body was screaming at me to close my mouth and shut my eyes, it'll go away if I ignore it.

"I said. Be careful" I answered, stronger this time. Causing a bigger smile from Bethany, and yet I still spotted no fangs. "If you've researched as well as you think you have then you should know what I am capable of" the tremble in my voice hinted other wise.

She took one, decisive, step forward. A twig snapped like thunder with purpose, and I squeaked. Bethany laughed, causing the blood to rush to my cheeks as my fists clenched.

I stared at her with conviction. I'll show her exactly what I can do. With purpose, and vengeance, renewed in my chest I opened my mouth as I began to utter a spell, only to find agony rip through my jaw.

The soft cotton of gloves held my mouth closed. My neck, stretching angrily, like it would tear any moment from holding the entire weight of my body. I could taste blood in my mouth. I could feel teeth dangling, broken, and loose, their raw nerves exposed by the otherworldly strength of finger and thumb.

My eyes snapped open as I struggled to breath, and kick. They peered down at the form of Bethany before me. Still immaculately composed, like suspending my entire body a foot off the ground with one hand was as bothersome as walking. She was smiling sweetly.

"Oh sweetness. You should not play poker with me. I know everything about your kind!" She chimed happily "Terrifying when we can't find you or at a distance. But get in close..." her grip began to tighten. I screamed into her gloved hand as I began to feel my face crack "And your options are very, very, limited"

The world began to fade. To darken. The muted afternoon browns and greens, slipping into greys, blacks and whites, the grip in my hands was weakening until they fell from their pathetic protest on her outstretched arm.

"I've always wondered what Witch blood tastes like..." I feel my body move. A brief moment of clarity, focused my senses as a loud gasp struck my ears, and I fell to the ground. Coughing up blood, and teeth, I gripped my mouth and looked up.

Bethany was bleeding. Six wounds, pushed through her torso from behind. The light of the moon, awakening in her eyes as she worriedly reached shaky hands to inspect the new found protrusions. She yelped. Her jaw stretched impossibly wide, her fangs mortifyingly apparent as she let out a cry, being hoisted ten feet into the air by a hulking mass of stone, horn, and vine.

The Protector.

It let out a horrifying noise, somewhere between a cacophonous bull and the roar of a lion, tossing the bloodied torso to the side with a flick of it's stag-like head. The body squeaked, crunching sickeningly, as it collided with the side of a tree, and fell into a crumpled mess on the floor of the forest. Unmoving. Unbreathing.

The beast let out heavy breaths. Jets of hot air, pouring from the holes where one would assumed nostrils to be, and it turned to me.

The hollows that served as its eyes gave an uneasy comfort, as I stood in awe of this creature. It stepped forward. The heavy crunch of its fore limbs, shifting with the unnerving mimicry of muscle, as it got closer.

I dare not move. I didn't think I could, but it butted me with its snout. Rolling me over onto my front, and from the shaking of my limbs, I found the strength, somewhere, somehow, to push myself up.

I fell to the nearby tree at my side for support. Wondering if my legs were able to hold me upright, when I felt another nudge at the small of my back, followed by a growl so deep, it vibrated my very bones, and just like that. I was sprinting.

A/N: Did I, or did I not, say that shit was about to go down? Anyways, I hope this was as cool as it was to write. Let me know and leave a comment!