Be as it may, Reginald was something of a guilty pleasure to me. Never had I encountered such grace and devilry in one, albeit questionable, creature. He appeared a perfect mixture of darkness and class, chivalrous even, though I doubted his intentions were quite so pure. The soft lines of desire affected even him and perhaps in a more noticeably obvious manner. His steely eyes betrayed little and his pacing made me believe that he was utterly comfortable in his own skin, the skin of an arrogant beast that feasted on insecurity and fear. Had I lied about my own reservations, Reginald would have found a way to exploit them and see them to light, despite the darkness of the caves. Yet, as I’ve said, his desires had been piqued and honed by my own ability to tempt and create a situation in which he too would benefit. That’s not to say I had anything to give, but I neither had anything to take away… I would be remembered as a mere blip on his radar, a curiosity that never quite satisfied his interests.
However, it was becoming increasingly hard to say that my ideas of the man would ever quite pan out. From the subtle shift in his attentions to the sultry way in which he regarded me and even the way he regarded Romul all struck me as a some kind of façade. But, I still found myself trembling at the precipice of fear and fascination… Somehow I was content to drown in the moment, lost to the threats that lingered just beyond the rapids of our strange encounter. It was then that I averted my gaze and fixed my eyes upon the thick crystal that guarded us all from the flow of hot, molten lava. It appeared to roll over itself -once, twice, three times- before finally heaving itself into the pool of burnt crimson at its base. Soon after I’d sated my tendency toward distraction, I realized Reginald’s path -a wide circle around the cavern- and again I was forced to ponder his intent.
He was something of a predator without the claws, but a danger nonetheless. In a vain attempt to soothe my nerves, I glanced down at Romul who refused to look at anything or really anyone other than Reginald. The wolf’s golden eyes trailed the brute from one position to the next, calculating and sure, but I was feeling suddenly fearful for his safety, even more so than before. It occurred to me that there might be only one way out of the cave and only one way in, neither being an option that I favored. Slowly, it became apparent that I was no longer a slave to my own fixations, but a slave to Reginald’s. His body exuded strength and power and though I had entertained Midas for a short time in the arena, I was certain that I could not rely on my own physical strength to free me of any wrongdoings that were to follow. Perhaps it was time to start making friends…
“You’re awfully perceptive then and perhaps a bit intrusive,” I remarked brazenly with a small smile. “But I must ask… who was your mother?” It wasn’t like I would know much of a native Foothills mare, but there was always the slightest of chances… Helovia was often equated with the phrase ‘it’s a small world’ in same way or another. However, if Reginald’s dam was anything like her endearing son, it was likely I didn’t know her… though it certainly couldn’t keep me from acting like I did. Then again, maybe that was a game more apt for another day… and another companion.
The softest of sounds caught my attention and when I had found the courage enough to face him, I was surprised to find a mask of pleasure, divine and enchanting. Just above a full, dark lip, there protruded a single fang; it appeared to ride out the cadence of my name on a snake-like hiss and I couldn’t help but cringe. My body convulsed, torn between undying attraction and deadly, disgusted, hate. Before I could come to terms with the way I sound coming from his tongue, he rumbled on… pressing his image into my thoughts like an unwanted flower- a weed perhaps. I listened with rapt attention, turning his next words over in my head like a heavy boulder that didn’t want to budge. Danger… He asked if I’d come because I was in danger, however the only risk I’d seemed to have taken was the obvious risk of his company. “I’d like to think myself safe… overwhelmed, but safe,” I concluded softly, determined. Leave it to him to interpret my meaning and I was sure he would find ways to distort my intent… Maybe his perception was in need of change and maybe I was the one who had come to change it.
“Why? Is there something I should be afraid of?” |
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
