The Devil's Cursed Witch

Chapter 64

Deciding he had his share of fun, he tightened his hold around her, embracing her frail body to protect her from the wind for when he moved.

Swoosh!

When Ember took a peek, she saw those majestic ashy grey wings flapping with great force. They were swiftly flying over the forest.

She was flying…

For the first time, she got to experience how it felt to fly like a bird. His beautiful wings looked strong as if they could cut through even the harshest winds of the strongest storm. The winged man glided over the vast forest below the cliff, passing through a number of villages and cities, before soaring up in the sky as he headed back towards where she came from.

Ember found her heart racing in excitement the entire time, and when they reached the cliff and stopped under that ancient tree with lantern-like fruits, only then did she calm down.

Morpheus didn’t let go of her immediately as he was sure after being up in the air for so long and flying with him, a human body would feel weak.

“Can you stand?” he asked gently while still holding her close.

Ember nodded and let her legs take all her weight as he slowly freed her from his hold.

“You can sit there if you are feeling dizzy,” he said while pointing toward one of the large roots next to her. He continued to hold her hands till she sat down comfortably.

Once she was seated, he let go of her hand and she took that chance to completely take in his appearance.

‘Does he not feel cold?’ was her first thought.

The man who saved her was half-naked, only wearing short pants to cover his lower body, though he did have a feather cape covering the top of his chest and his broad shoulders. His tanned body looked like they were sculpted to perfection, with strong but lean muscles, hard chiselled abdomen, and the white tribal tattoos on his skin seemed to highlight how beautiful his body was.

Dark grey feathers were attached to the shoulder part of his cape like beautiful accessories, but there were no wings behind him. She tilted her head a little to see if they were folded and hidden under the cape, but there was nothing there.

While she was studying him, Morpheus kneeled on one leg in front of her, allowing their faces to meet on the same level, but that made her flustered. She lowered her head and simply gazed at her hands. Though she was curious about him—to be more precise, his wings—she remembered he was a complete stranger.

“Do you want to say something, little female?” he asked, amused by how she was staring at him mere seconds ago. His manly voice surprisingly sounded gentle and comforting, contrary to his wild look.

Ember adamantly shook her head. It was good to not mingle with strangers—it was a lesson Gaia had always strictly reminded her of.

He didn’t force it and simply said, “My name is Morpheus. May I know yours?”

She didn’t reply.

“Trust me, I mean no harm to you. But if you don’t want to say your name, then it’s fine as well. Just tell me if you are injured somewhere so we can take care of it.”

She moved her gaze up to look at his face. She was surprised to see how this man could look and act gentle—from his gaze, to his actions and the way he spoke—unlike a certain red-eyed man who only knew how to be mean.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked and looked at her feet wearing short boots made of the animal hide where one was torn near the ankle. He moved her hands to touch it but she moved her foot to dodge.

“Your shoe is torn,” he said. “I am only checking if you hurt your foot.”

He moved his hand once more and this time she didn’t resist. He held her right foot gently and removed her boot.

“Your foot is fine, fortunately. We should fix this boot though.”

He observed the torn shoe while she observed him.

‘He doesn’t seem like a bad man.’

She once again glanced at his back while he was busy fixing her shoe, but she could not see his wings and felt somewhat disappointed. Those majestic ashy grey feathers looked soft to touch, and she remembered how shiny they look each time sunlight hits them at an angle.

Meanwhile, Morpheus did not actually fix her boot. He simply secured it to her foot with a string he was carrying so that she would not have problems walking around.

“Done.”

He stood up from kneeling and walked closer to the ancient tree behind Ember. Her gaze followed each of his movements, wondering what he was up to.

Morpheus looked at the branches of the tree, and due to his height, his hand had no problem reaching the nearest fruit hanging down from where he stood. He plucked one fruit, which was in fact average in size, but because the size of his palm was quite large even for a man, it looked tiny in comparison.

She saw him bringing that glowing fruit to her. He kneeled in front of her again and held that fruit in front of her. “Do you want this?”

Ember gave him a timid nod. She remembered she was trying to touch this fruit when she arrived earlier, but she could not reach it no matter how hard she tried.

Fascinated, she held that fruit in her delicate palms. To her surprise, it was not heavy—in fact, it was too light, as if it was nothing but an empty ball made of thin glass that shines. Holding it in her hand felt magical, but soon, she saw the fruit losing its glow and it turned to a dull shade of grey. Before she could even react, it scattered into smoke and disappeared from her hands.

Startled, she looked at the winged man in distress, as if she had done something wrong.