déodat,She had infected him with the loveliest of sin, turned him from his narrow path onto a road made of uncertainty. But here, hidden away amongst the ice, they were impenetrable- secrets to the world around them that could not be questioned. His sanity had all but disappeared and left nothing in its place aside from the longing to conquer, to defeat. Her skin upon his neck was intoxicating and he was suddenly reminded of the glass world in which they presently possessed. He was fragile, on the brink of explosion and stubbornly trying to evade her suggestive remarks and haughty attitude.
But he was enjoying every minute of it.
That is, until her words were once again commanding him, guiding him away from the physical comforts of sexual appeal and into the darker regions of his past- a past that he was more than willing to let die. His body seemed to respond to her coaxing with a new rigid tension that had not consumed him for some time; all else had been forgotten. Had he not been distracted by the lust and the warmth of her skin, he might have caught her earlier conversation, but now… now he was wrought with anxiety and silent anger, abysmal hate for the creature he once wanted, needed to acquire.
Death seemed a close friend in that moment and he embraced the cold sensation of its hand upon his heart. It felt too much like his father’s stern heel upon his hide in times of warranted punishment- it was home. Slowly, the bloodied beast moved away from his dark companion, eyes roaming her skin with a fervent need for release. Only this time it was much darker, much more intense… it was sadness that motivated his eager loins. “You think friendship was on the agenda my sweet? I don’t think you could handle me darling, for toy or not, you are still nothing but the mutt I had deemed you to be.”
His words are callous and unfeeling, once again stolen away from the heat and the fire that once inspired them both. Retracted, he moved away, seeking distance and miles between them. She could not understand the war that had ravaged his family and soiled his name, no, she was but an animal no more fit to bow at his feet than a beast his bitch (dog). His teeth pressed together as he gritted back the words that tried to follow, but an unknown tenderness kept them restrained. However, the remorse did not last long.
“You are no different than the creatures that refused me help when it was most needed. I lost everything thanks to those before you, those who were able to procreate against the will of the Gods.” He paused, his lips quivering with the last of his self-control before he turned slowly to face her. “You are but the filth on this earth that even genocide could not abolish.” With a venomous hiss, he fell silent, his sides heaving with the calculated constraint of a practiced killer. In all his beauty he was still nothing more than a ghost of his father, a ghost that desired this wolf’s blood upon his tongue. |
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[O] Magic in death and beauty in blood
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