The heat of the peak season was near. Too near in fact for his liking. But he supposed he should count his blessings that there were still some cooler days left to enjoy. To take full advantage over.

The monster lurked just south of the Brook. His presence there lingering more so than the Bluffs. If his ambitions were lesser, then perhaps he might have joined Vermeda by now. But there was no point in his eyes. He had it nice in Wolfbron. It would only be the same within the valley. Pointless to up and move when he wouldn't be around for much longer.

Cassius loitered around the vale to keep eyes and ears on those within. The X'uekai. Icefang. Freja. There was another there as well but he dispelled the thought of her rather quickly. They had yet to bump into one another thus far. And he was both relieved and irritated by the revelation. She had said her goodbyes after all. He had watched her leave. Had wanted it. But not before ensuring she could take care of herself.

Why though, was the real question that tormented him. Why had he cared enough to guarantee her safety without him?

Without him.

Let me go, Cassius.

How, when her very claws were forever etched into his arm? That unbearable pain long gone yet still there. Deep in his memory. He could pull it forth if he tried hard enough. That particular ache always leading the Darkling to bury himself. Usually into someone else. Some easily manipulated stranger. Wanting to forget yet forced to remember. Compelled by none but himself.

Infuriating.

@Melusina

s

o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

Life continues, even if she wishes it wouldn't.

The days drawl into the nights without reprieve or recourse, without care for how she felt; suspended, suffocating. It did not care that Melusina was suffering, a design of her own doing unraveling everything she once thought she was, everything she was so certain she would be. Melusina was no warrior, and she was no healer. She was a lamb parading herself as a wolf, but the world saw her as neither—she was a gnat, an interloper, something to be quashed and forgotten.

She did not want to be forgotten.

Hurt crept in mysterious ways. She did not grieve as she was expected. She no longer wept, she no longer wailed. Instead, she hurled curses into the empty night, cleared her hollow of death and decay and devoted herself to her work. She distanced herself from her companions, but remained just within arm's reach; just enough to remain unsuspicious, just enough to cast a shadow small enough that no one would notice the unfurling change beneath.

Every once in a while, she would catch herself thinking of him.

He, the wretch. He, the catalyst.

He haunted her more than she cared to admit.

When his scent drifted upon the early summer air, Melusina thought it no more than one of her mind's tricks. But when Torre's silent flight above turned frantic, the sudden twisting of wings changing a charted course, the heavy realization that it were no illusion quickly took hold. She had been caught completely unawares; her search for herbs often extended beyond the borders of Vermeda's territory, and where once she had been content to tag along with larger patrols, she had long begun to prefer a solitary journey. Now, she cursed it.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when @Cassius ♔ finally came into view. It was too late for her to turn back now, too late to pretend that she was no more than a wraith, a fragment of a past they were both so desperate to forget.

But the sunlight caught the edge of his scars, places where her hands had been. Her handiwork was carved into his very skin.

And she—and she likes it.

She swallows, hard. She stops a few paces behind him. She lifts her head, bares her teeth.

Cassius.

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Bitter, hateful and gruesome are his thoughts. Restless, taut and crawling are his muscles. He thought about what he needed. Thought about what he would do. He had dropped Freja off within Vermeda not too long ago. It had been days. He had taken her hunting. Had gotten to know her better. But what exactly was he going to do with her? He could have so easily just left her out in the wilds to perish.

A bargaining chip for Icefang. To weasel his way into a family that clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Was it just another challenge he sought to break? Why try so hard when he had never before given a fuck about what others thought of him. Cassius recoiled from the idea that he was merely trying to impress them. To win favor with them. It was nothing more than a simple power grab. That was what he wanted to believe. What he preferred. It made more sense. It was easier.

His mind drifts back to Freja. Trying to conjure up all the ways in which he'd use her. Abuse her. Set that fear into her eyes that he just could not live without.

"Cassius."

Her voice, his name, it is like the tolling of many bells. Reverberating between his ears. Spoken with such malice it sent a shiver of thrilling adrenaline coursing up his spine. Cassius did not need to turn to know who was behind. He knew that voice. Even without the well accustomed soft breathy tones, he knew.

Shoulders roll, his head with them. Back and side to side as if stretching and waking from lack of movement. Gods he wanted to hear it again. His name. From her lips. Said with such vitriol he'd have no choice but to bleed it out of her. And it is in this moment that he realizes just why he had picked Freja. Why he had been so drawn to her. So compelled to bring her within his thrall. The pale fur. The sunken sickly body. Her affinity for herbs. A chance to start anew. To do things right. To sculpt Freja into a dutiful little pet that both feared and respected him.

I hate you- I hate you--

Slowly does he turn, sharp eyes not quite ready to behold the woman that now stood in place of the meek girl he expected. Dark lips pull up slightly, parting as he purred out deeply the name of the girl who haunted his every waking dream, @Melusina.

Art by Rabbit, Code by Minxy

s

o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

She was a fool to think their last encounter was truly their last. Melusina knew that she would see him again, she just hadn't known where, or when.

It was here. It was now. And she was wholly unprepared.

As far as she knew, @Cassius ♔ had no reason to be here. She had been blind to the machinations kept behind closed doors. She had her suspicions but no solid proof that it was Cassius who had hurt Icefang, and knew even less of the nature of his relationship to her Queen. She had scarcely heard of Freja, let alone even met her; similar as they were, Melusina had been avoiding the vast majority of Vermeda, especially now as Icefang amassed her army in preparation of the coming war.

For she, so blind and kept away, it was impossible to think of the reason why Cassius dared to tread so close.

He turns with an agonizing slowness, and Melusina is not yet strong enough to tear her eyes away from his scars. The threaded upwards, evidence of an untrained hand shakily dragging her claws across uncharted flesh. Her inexperience was just as evident as her fury, and he would forever bear the marks of a quarrel born of fervent, animalistic hate. When her name slips past his lips, she closes her eyes, sucks in a breath.

Melusina.

Her name, spoken by his tongue, felt like an invasion, pressure applied in just the right spots. When the last syllable fell from his lips her eyes reopened, and against every part of her that begged to run away, she lifted her eyes into the endless blue of his. Just as focused, just as angry, just as unrelenting as they had been the last day they'd met.

But now, so were hers.

She had let go of her doubts and inconsistencies. Now, she had nothing left to lose.

You're awfully close to Vermedan territory, she cautions, lowering her head just a touch.

Perhaps by adopting the role of a dutiful patrol, she could escape the scrutiny of his ire. More than that, she could escape the overwhelming feeling to launch herself at him—an act she herself did not know the end to. She wanted to tear his throat out just as much as she wanted to embrace him.

Art by rabbit, table by cala

His gaze does not leave her. Traveling slowly along her forelimbs, up along her chest, her throat, the various delicate features of her visage; devouring every tiny detail even from this distance, before finally locking in on those pale green eyes. The only softness being the color.

A hardness now rests there. But it is not the same hatred he had witness on last they met. This was sharper. Honed. Practiced. A thrill marks itself down along his spine. For a split second he is sure that he can feel her claws in his flesh. Right in his arm. In whatever tendon she had managed to shred.

Again. Adrenaline whispers. Let her mark us again. To feel that pain come alive anew. To be savored properly. This time there would be no threat of a Wolfbron patrol to take from him her agony. Her disdain.

Her claws nor her fangs.

Slowly his teeth expose themselves as lips curl. The sins within his mind well tucked away. For now. Instead, his smile is one of feigned innocence. And poorly done at that. A paw coming to his chest as if he were truly offended.

My. He drawls. I had no idea. That raised limb now lowering as it patted the plant covered ground. I was just getting herbs. Whatever faux irreproachability he had managed to scavenge can hold no longer as his expression shifts right into that infamous mocking smirk. They can only be found here, you know.

A clear poke at what she had tried telling him. As if making a point on how utterly ridiculous she had sounded.

Cassius takes a singular step closer. And he does not bother to keep it nonthreatening. Let her feel endangered.

He had a strange feeling that @Melusina was no longer the timid little mouse he had come to know. She had not stumbled over her words. Had managed to lock eyes with him. Had even lowered her head a bit. Not out of submission he realized.

But out of warning.

Did it work then? Had he truly ripped apart the coward in her? Or had he been right in another sense?

Melusina the manipulator. Can't just bat your pretty little eye lashes at me and get what you want.

This had to be the true her then.

Nothing would convince Cassius otherwise.

A Melusina made just for him.

Art by Rabbit, Code by Minxy

s

o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

She shudders as his eyes creep up her legs, her chest, her throat. He never held anything back in his gaze, and his stare now was just as intense as his first, when they'd been no more than wide-eyed cubs staring at each other from across the clearing. It had felt invasive then, just as it did now; but as @Cassius ♔ finally lifts his gaze to hers, Melusina did not falter. She did not shirk, she did not shy away, she did not so much as let loose the breath that now burned her lungs.

Look at me, her gaze instead commands, latching onto the invasive pressure of his scrutiny and yanking it closer. She bore herself, raw and half-alive. Look at what you have made me.

Look at what I have made me.

His lips curl, his teeth glinting in the summer sun. Melusina exhales agonizingly, methodically slow.

My, I had no idea, he hums, I was just getting herbs.

Melusina's eyes twitch wider, her heart thundering in her chest, though her ears were oddly silent of its fervent beat.

They can only be found here, you know.

Cut the shit, Cassius, she snaps.

He takes a step closer. So does she.

She had nothing left to lose. She had proven to herself that Cassius was fallible. That he was just as mortal as she.

It meant Luther was mortal. It meant Aeistrios was mortal.

It meant men were just as capable of being destroyed by her hands.

But there was something different about Cassius. There was that resentment in his eyes, that hatred that she'd come to know so well. But now that she was no longer afraid to look him in the eyes, she saw something else, something deeper. Pride, contentment—satisfaction? The very sight of it causes her stomach to turn, and it takes everything she has not to pry her gaze away from his finally, to break the unspoken tension between them that threatened to burst. She would not falter, she would not falter.

If you're here for Icefang, I'll call for her, she begins again, her voice a low drawl, though it could not quite hide the resonating trill of lungs aching for a full breath. Otherwise, leave.

It was small, subtle. It lives in the slight widening of her eyes, the glint of a fire writhing deep within.

Don't leave, it howls, Witness what has become of me.

Art by rabbit, table by cala

There is no helping the next step he takes. Slight. Body shifting from one side to the other in mild canter. There would be no looking away from her either. Not even if he wanted to. Not even if he wished it.

Hers is a vision that demands appreciation. He is but an artist unable, unwilling, to do nothing more than admire his work.

The beast takes a deep inhale of breath. Her scent drawn to fill every crevice within himself. Of herbs and the forests of the Brook.

Distant; so very distantly of palm and sea. That underlying sickness still woven into her tapestries. It kept her the same. In a way. That illness.

No matter who @Melusina became. No matter who she thought she was or would ever be. The weakness that ravaged her down to her very bones would keep her forever tethered.

To her father. To her brother. And sisters. To her mother.

To him.

Cassius says nothing for a long while. Does not motion to move further save a flick of an ear or soft swish of the tail. His eyes continue to bore into her. Seeking to puncture straight down into her own eyes. To force a line right down to her soul.

Was she indeed changed? He could not help but wonder. Could not help but desire to know with all certainty. Could he push her again? Could his words, his cruelty, bring her down upon him?

You could. Cassius finally speaks. How far in the dark was she about him and those above her? Very, he would assume. Given that Icefang had failed to speak of her failures and his ascension to even her own blood. Yet, he had to remind himself that she was the manipulator. The trickster. It could not be just mere coincidence that she had chosen to join the Brook. To join the X'uekai. The very lions that shared his name.

And he could allow her to send for Icefang. To waste the matrons time. The Queen already knew him to be lurking. But this is not Vermeda. Another step. This time with a larger stride.

And I do not want Icefang. The words lifting passed his lips in a slow heavy whisper. Gaze still pointed.

Art by Rabbit, Code by Minxy

s

o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

A step. A pause. A step.

Melusina's eyes are so trained on him that she can scarcely see the furl of flowers and stalks dancing in the corners of her eyes, or the glint of sunlight reflecting off the surface of a nearby brook. Instead, she is watching @Cassius ♔ with such a focused intensity that she swears she can see every shudder of breath as it passes his lips, every featherlight dance of white hair dancing just above his eyes.

You could, he drawls after that long, aching silence. But this is not Vermeda. And I do not want Icefang.

Part of her was desperate that he did. Part of her wanted to wipe her hands of him and hand him off to a woman far more capable of putting him in his place, of making him feel lesser. Her seclusion had left her so blissfully in the dark of the machinations that ran much deeper, and she has no real inclination that it had been he who had caused Icefang's wounds that day, that her Queen was not as infallible and untouchable as Melusina likes to believe.

Despite her thoughts, her eyes betray nothing. Icefang was not here, and she doubted the Queen would look kindly upon Melusina crying out for help.

She could call Nikandr. She even considers Dominic.

No—no.

Melusina needed nothing—no one—any longer.

Cassius was one of the few things she had left that was entirely hers.

Believe as he might that he was the one who forged her anew, Melusina was just as possessive and desperate to claw her way to that raw power.

This time, she takes the step, and she isn't surprised when it brings them nearly nose-to-nose. She can feel the sweep of his hot breath across her face. She can see the shadow he casts directly upon her, an overpowering of the summer sun that is nearly holy.

She swallows hard, bites back her fear. If she lets a single sliver of it show, then Cassius will have already won. Instead, she lets a smile curl onto her lips.

Then what do you want? she asks, enunciating each word with a nearly-feral spite.

All men always wanted something, and Cassius was already more than most men. And yet, she fears his answer as much as she suspects she knows it.

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The time ticks ever by between them. A phenomenon he would probably never notice unless someone else pointed it out. But it was there. The slowing of the world whenever he found himself face to face with her.

And she is harder to read now than before. The fear that fueled his motives now gone. Or perhaps just carefully tucked away.

She takes that last bold step toward him. Their noses nearly touching. And she smiles. Her lips moving upwards as she asks her question. And there is so much behind that little expression of hers. He sees far more than amused curiosity. Trying to.. what? Intimidate him? Play him at his own game?

She wanted to think herself some tough warrior? Or maybe some cunning vixen? She wanted to tease him? Vex him? Perhaps she just needed a reminder. A lesson. One lucky shot would not see him bending to her. Would not see him thinking less of himself in comparison.

His own smile unfurls. A chuckle bringing his broad shoulders to gently shake. As much as this new her has him absolutely feral, he still craves that look of shock. The fear in her eyes as they widen. Those sudden little gasps that always left a warmth spreading through his lower body.

@Melusina is so close now. Either she had gone mad or she had forgotten how dangerous he was. Had forgotten how foolish it was to be this close. The last time their proximity was so personal, without bloodshed, was probably the day he crammed them both into that tiny winter den. Had she forgotten that he was no longer that boy?

Had she learned absolutely fuck-all?

Cassius reaches out. Grabbing her by the arm with one hand and pulling her into the last and final distance. Chest to chest as he reclines back against his haunches. Face barely brushing along her own as his mouth moves toward her ear. Breath heavy and warm. I want to hear you say it. Cassius murmurs, eyes closing as he half nuzzles his cheek to hers, practically groaning under his breath as if he were holding back from something. Fighting himself. Tell me what it is you think I want.

Art by Rabbit, Code by Minxy

s

o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

She watches with rapt focus how he contemplates, machinates. For all his strength and cunning and bravado he telegraphs his emotions on his skin, in a way Melusina understands only because she has known him for so long. The span of his breath against her lips is heavy and angry, and his gaze claws into hers, searching for any hint of hesitation, of fear. Melusina need only falter once and @Cassius ♔ would snuff her out.

So she doesn't falter.

She could almost hear the words he wishes to say, the heavy implications of his continued silence that begs the purpose of her defiance. She, who once trembled in his wake. She, who once had nightmares of him.

She, who carved her anger into his skin.

He smiles, that wicked, cunning grin. His laugh unfurls with bemusement. Dread sinks like a pit in her stomach, but Melusina tightens her jaw, unwilling to let her fear surface. She is furious, and she is renewed—but she is still mortal, and agonizingly aware of it.

Suddenly, his hand juts out, and yanks her arm into him.

Oh— is all she breathes, unsurprised he's made his move; instead, surprised that she's not immediately met with the familiar pain of his teeth.

The plumey fur of her chest tangles with the snowkissed furl of his mane, and she cannot tell if it is his heartbeat she is feeling, or her own. There is a certain intimacy in this action, something familiar yet faraway. But when her sweeping gaze falls upon him, she does not see a boy, but a man—a monster.

I want to hear you say it, he whispers against her skin, his cheek pressing into hers in an electrifying wake. She shudders, sighs. Tell me what it is you think I want.

Cassius, she warns under-breath.

A lecherous little smile sneaks to her lips.

She turns her cheek into his, guiding the soft press of his mouth closer and closer to hers. She watches the taut set of his jaw, the frame of snow-white hair against his face. Underneath all his malice and all his hate there is something alive, and mortal, and just a man. She holds her breath, as if in anticipation of a kiss.

You— she sighs against his lips.

Then, she drives her fist upward, attempting to drive her paw into the soft flesh just beneath his ribs, at the apex of his lungs—a medic's best-kept secret.

—should know me better than that.

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