The morning after comes quietly, creepingly.

She doesn't realize until the flittering light outside her den wakes her up that she's slept in, and that there are no outsiders at her door demanding her attention for this or that. Melusina is...alone. In the quiet, in the light. And for once, she feels the closest thing she could to calm.

Eventually, she slinks out of her den, but not for another hour more. There is a feline grace that accompanies her long stretch out of her nest. She peers around—and when she finds nobody, she begins her way toward the edge of the forest with wraithlike grace.

She is smothered in his scent, and the near-girlish bliss with which she meanders toward that sunny spot is telling enough. Through all her tribulations since her capture and then her return to Vermeda only hastening more, there was something undeniably satisfying about finally feeling wanted. Wholly, entirely.

So, she affords herself the bliss of this one day; of sprawling herself out across the broad, flat surface of a boulder, and soaking up the last warmth of the fleeting autumn sun.

---

@Cassius ♔

The autumn winds had come. Chasing away the heat and humidity of summer and damn if he wasn’t grateful for it. For three miserable months the beast had to hide away most of the day. Only finding the early dawn and late evening the best time to do, well, anything. Gods he hated the heat. But he also hated the frigid cold; severely lacking that extra bit of umf of fur.
Spring and Fall. Why couldn’t he just live in a place that held those specific temperates year round?

A pair of jackals go squalling out of the territory, yapping at the large black mass that thundered after them. Cassius skids to a stop just at that invisible line, pacing back and forth a couple of times, watching, waiting, and once satisfied the little pests wouldn’t try him again, he turns and continues on with his patrol.

Several long minutes go by, his pace leisurely; for once fully relaxed. Eyes close against the comfort of the breeze, yet again opening as her scent travels along on the wind. It dances around him in the most enticing way imaginable. Without giving it much thought the Darkling is following after. Tracking that pleasant aroma until her body comes into view.

Cassius pauses again, pain faintly thrumming through his chest at just the mere sight of her. He did not have to ask himself how long it had been. He knew. All too perfectly well. As though it had been yesterday and not weeks.
Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.

Turn around. He should just turn around. Walk far far away and continue on avoiding her as if she did not exist. Yet he was here. And she was here. Thinking of leaving now only made that pain stab in deeper. So he does what he shouldn’t. He moves forward, treading out of the shadows of the trees and into her open air. Wordlessly he approaches her rock, doing one hell of a job at masking the turmoil within.

The closer he got however, the clearer her scent became. And quick is he to notice another male’s. Not Dominic. Not Nikandr. Some new member. One he had seen only in passing. An older lion. Another foreign feeling begins to seep down into his bones. One he had no right to feel. Not when he himself held so many women upon his own pelt.
For now he shoves that down as well. Locking it away behind the fortress that was already too jam packed.

His body lowers down just beside her peaceful perch. Still saying nothing as he does so. He knew he shouldn’t be here. Knew he should have just went on his way. But it was nice, being here next to her. It had been such a maddening thing. Knowing she was within arms length yet farther away than ever before. Of course he knew it was his own doing. A terrible thing of his own making. It was what he had wanted after all.

Suppose the saying rang true then. You don’t know what you got til it’s gone.

@Melusina

code by scorpixia♡︎ | art by drifter

Then @Cassius ♔ comes. Quietly. Creepingly.

Melusina doesn't notice him, at first. His scent drifts upon the wind but she thinks nothing of it. His scent is everywhere, as if he'd been determined to make sure all of Vermeda's residents knew he was here, and just who he was. The challenge, despite its outcome, must have felt like a hit to his pride—enough that his presence seems to linger, a constant reminder of the stasis with which they now live. Always ever only within arm's reach.

Stay out of my way. I'll stay out of yours.

Like two stars in an empty sky, drifting aimlessly out of each other's orbit.

But then she feels a heavy thump next to her, and Melusina wrenches herself free of the blissful half-sleep she's found herself. She half-expects it to be Nikandr, whose sudden and playful intrusion would be so on-brand she nearly called out his name. But she is instead met with the dark, star-kissed form of @Cassius ♔; and he is oh so close, and his face is not twisted with rage or disgust at whatever it is she's done to piss him off.

She is so surprised that she tries to gasp, but then the wind catches hard in her lungs, and she reels, coughing and coughing and coughing until blood sputters onto the boulder between her feet.

Quickly, she catches her breath, and wipes her paw across her mouth as if it never happened.

She is suddenly all-too-aware of her own scent, and Crow's, and her rare moment of relaxation, and the love bites on the crook of her neck, and his uncharacteristic quietness. It begins to feel more like a dream than a reality, but she remains compelled into silence and stillness, eyes boldly looking upon the Heir but refusing to do—or say—anything.

Don't you ever fucking say that to me again.

But it's still there. It lingers in the back of her throat like a benediction: I love you.

He feels her jerk up, sees in from the corner of his eye, yet does not look her way. Not even when the fit of coughing overtakes her whole being. There are no visible signs of worry offered. No concerned looks or gentle murmurs. He had seen her this way before. Many times in fact. She had been fine then so surely she would be fine now. And Cassius had never been a man to waste his breath voicing questions to answers he already knew. Nor had he ever made it a habit to fuss over her. Not even when the blood began to dribble up from her raw throat and lungs.

While she seeks to regain herself, Cassius works to keep his anger in check. Throwing up mental blockers to keep that overflowing door tightly closed. But it is creaking. With every intake of breath that brings her mixed scent into his airway, that door bends and strains and pops further.

He can sense her eyes on him. Watching. Waiting maybe. For some sort of reaction perhaps. Had she done it on purpose he wonders. To get a reaction? To rub it into his face? No. No that was ridiculous. How was she to know they would have crossed paths today? How was she to know that he would decide against his better judgement to come down here and lay beside her?

Slowly does his head turn, eyes steady upon her own. Everything about him was eerily calm; so unnaturally still. But not in the same sort of way that would usually herald a storm. There is, however, a subtle telling within that ice blue gaze. A hardness that demanded recognition.

Don't. It said. Don't.

Because he could see it there. Could see it clung to her lips and prepared to spill forth. Just like he had somehow seen it that day on the hillside. Three words so ready and willing to be given.

Don't.

Attention slips down, catching the signs of teeth having been at her neck. And there is where they linger. Causing his jaw to set too painfully tight; as well as a hard swallow to fill the silence between them.

It won't change anything..

@Melusina

code by scorpixia♡︎ | art by drifter

Years ago, she might have wanted his doting. She would have wanted a kindly and thoughtful companion, one who would have given her that comfort and reassurance that she was okay. But Melusina was not that girl, and @Cassius ♔ would never be that man, and it worked for them in different ways.

She does not need comfort or reassurance. She's carried her own ashes. So they sit in that shared silence; Cassius steeled and unflinching, and Melusina entirely okay.

And they stay like that for what feels like hours.

Then, his head lifts, and Melusina exhales the breath she was holding. As his eyes lock into hers, her heart seizes in her chest.

Don't, he says without speaking. Don't.

Okay, she relents, then sighs. I won't.

She wonders, then, what's compelled him here. There has never been a moment where Melusina and Cassius drift into each other's paths without some sort of reckoning. But he is uncharacteristically quiet, and contemplative, and she wonders if he's here to torture her or himself.

Her day had almost been perfect.

His eyes slip down past her eyes, to her jaw, then to the plush furl of her neck that had begun to grow in thick for the coming winter. She is suddenly so-very-aware of the evidence of her courtship written on her skin. And she watches, with a cruel mix of horror and satisfaction, as his jaw sets and tightens.

She feels justified, but ashamed. Exhilarated, but guilty. Guilty? Hadn't she spent many nights enduring the idea of his lips on Freja's skin? Was it not she who went to bed alone each night, while Cassius never left his empty?

Why does she feel bad for trying to simply move on?

She opens her mouth to speak, but immediately closes it.

Stay out of my way.

The flat surface of the boulder is massive and sprawling, and there is plenty of room for her to slowly roll onto her side. The warmth of the sun-baked rock is infinitely relaxing, and Melusina eases comfortably onto her side, until she is nearly on her back. Her paws hang just loosely in front of her, and her chin presses into her throat, pushing out the plume of her chest.

An invitation, of sorts—unspoken, almost chaste. To offer him more room to ignore her, to let him observe her with more clarity, to let him wash away the scent of Crow with his own.

She swallows, hard.

A soft sigh of acceptance is all that is needed for him to find a snippet of relief. Okay. I won't. But there is pain there too. That far off piece of his soul continues to yearn to hear those words again. Yearned for her to breathe life and strength and renewal into him. To replenish everything he had lost. To make him brave enough to finally shine through the darkness.
Who Cassius is now however; this Cassius is grateful for the still rolling silence.


Her wondering is shared, as he too did not know why he was here. His actions were certainly not holding up to his words. Stay away. Stay out of the way. And feeling her pull from his hands, watching her relent and walk away - It had felt like goodbye. It should have been goodbye. Or as much of a final farewell that they could have while still living under the same roof. But he is here. With her. Beside her. And there is no screaming. No crying. No bloodshed. Only this quiet stillness. Both foreign and familiar. Muscles melting into that familiarity. Like one rejoined with a long lost friend. Cassius himself would say he did not know Melusina in this way. Yet he did. He didn't know how but he definitely did.

Eyes continue to remain locked upon her throat. That is until she is shifting. His attention returning to her face. From here he wonders why she has not said anything. Why she had not berated him for intruding. For judging her. To throw into his face how he had had her. Only to shove her away. Only to push her right into the arms of another while he also went home to a woman that was not her. No right. He had no right to feel this gnawing pang of jealousy.

She lays stretched out, relaxed, almost waiting. For what he didn't know. But his eyes trace down every delicate curve. Not at all in that hungry, greedy, invasive way they always had before. This is softer. Slower. More appreciative. When the trail makes its way fully back up, he is moving without much thought. Stepping up onto that warm rock, paws overstepping to straddle her between. And he looks down at her. In that same way he had on the hillside. You're so beautiful, Melusina. Words he had truly meant. Words he thought even now. Words he had always thought, even when they were children. Beautiful. Bewitchingly beautiful.

Lips part as if he too would say something. Maybe repeat that before sentiment. But like her, nothing comes. Nothing but that mingling of scent that teased him. Taunted him. Beckoned him to lose control. To rage. To roar. To maim. One paw moves, slowly, gently, to caress down along her shoulder, her torso, her waist. All the while his face lowers. Sluggish but bold. Nose seeking to nestle into the crook of her neck. Right where the scent of bruise and blood lingers.

Gingerly does his tongue slip passed his teeth, drawing a warmth down along the trail of bites. Again. And then again. Until his lips too join. Kisses planted along her neck, from one side, wrapping the front to the other end. Replace. Instinct whispered. Much in the way it had when he rejoined with Freja. Needed to wipe clean the scent of the Lagoon. Needing to engulf her with himself. Replace. Replace.

A faint tension lurks though. In the hard hammering of his heart. You're not my type. Never you. Almost a good fuck. I hate you. I hate you I hate you. She will reject him. He feels it. Believes it. She will use him, much like he assumed she would on that hillside. He had tried to protect himself then. Save himself from the humiliation. But now he couldn't find that same desire. He could not leave her alone no matter how fucking hard he tried. No matter how fucking hard he pushed and clawed and snapped and broke.. So if she were to break him further, so be it. At least he could try and savor this small bit of her that he had right now.

@Melusina

code by scorpixia♡︎ | art by drifter

She doesn't know how long she holds her breath.

At first, she expects him to ignore her. It was the most likely answer, it made the most sense. She could bath her belly in the sun and keep a comfortable distance from him, and they could share in that awkward silence until one of them eventually got to their feet and walked away. But then she hears the sound of him shifting, and she watches as his massive form swallows the sun as he ventures closer.

Her heart begins to beat furiously—angrily—in her chest. Every part of her that is reliving that day on the hillside is screaming at her to leave, to avoid the inevitability of rejection a third time. But some deep and distant but loud part of her is desperately clawing to the surface, begging her to stay, begging her to let him near once more and not rip away like she probably should.

He had warned her, after all: Stay out of my way.

This was a test. He was going to watch her lose her resolve, and he was going to punish her for it. But Gods, was the price worth it.

His was always a presence insurmountable. His paws find either side of her easily, and the shadow he casts over her swallows her whole. But as the autumnal wind sweeps across the meadow, she is warmed by the heat that radiates off him in waves. And in his eyes she catches that spark of familiarity, and she is brought back to that hillside but not the horrifying, belittling pieces that haunt her, but instead the moments before.

You're so beautiful, Melusina.

She sucks in a breath.

His lips part, as if to say something. Her eyes thoughtfully wander the rigid set of his jaw, the sporadic star-speckles that dance across his temples, to the stark-white hair that falls into his eyes as he looks down at her. He says nothing, and Melusina watches as his jaws clench shut instead. There is something handsome about this contemplative, tame side of him; subdued by his own thoughts, grounded by his indecision.

He is looking at her.

But then she feels the slow drag of his paw against her fur, and with torturous cautiousness he draws it from her shoulder down, until it comes to rest at the small of her waist. A shiver runs up her spine, and she parts her lips to speak, to question, but once again she finds nothing but a breathy sigh.

She fears saying a single word, lest she undo everything this is.

@Cassius ♔'s cold, wet nose presses into the crook of her neck, and her chin instinctively tips upward to accommodate. His warm breath wisps across her throat, and the rhythmic switch between bite and kiss cause her to shudder with bliss.

Her paws come up, shyly, hesitatingly. With a thoughtful slowness she drapes them around his neck, allowing them to fall among the soft locks of his mane. Her heart is beating so fervently in her chest she is certain that if he cannot hear it aloud, he can feel it just beneath her skin.

She should say no. She should tear away from him now or seconds later when he's all but put himself at her mercy. How fitting an end it would be—to spit on him as he had her and complete that cycle of hate until it starts all over again. It would save whatever small scrap of dignity she has left.

But she doesn't, and she curses every part of her that is unable to. It was exhausting to hate him. It was impossible to forget him.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

She can't help it.

Melusina leans down ever-so-slightly, and presses an encouraging kiss to his forehead.

Sweet. So sweet. The feel of her. The taste. Her scent even despite the mingle of an interloper. It was all just as it was the first time. She was exactly the same as before. Both in the exact same position as before. But the mood was obviously different. She, less afraid. He, not as eager.

His movements are slower - gentler. Yet every touch was still firm. Confident. Lacking that uncertainty even with a war raging on within.

Don't. Stop. Can't. Shouldn't. This is wrong

Yes. This. Need this. Right. Nothing in the world has ever been so right.

The latter was winning. Cassius didn't care. Tried hard to ignore the former. To block it out entirely. Whatever consequences followed could be dealt with later. Whatever rejections she may throw his way would be well deserved. But until then, until someone or something swooped in and ruined it all, he would not stop. He would not relent his touching, stroking, kissing.

Her lips touch his forehead and he is instantly lifting up, claiming her mouth with his. A singular heated moan the only noise he would make. Claws hook into her fur, shifting her body into the position he wanted. Then he was moving them both. Rolling her and himself. Placing her ontop. Closer. He wanted their bodies closer. Wanted to feel her pressure pressing down. And she could not crush him the way he easily could her. This was safer. And this was even. It offered her more control. It offered her insight.

It would be so much harder for things to repeat themselves like this. It would be so much harder for her to get caught by surprise a third time.

Paws rest on her hips, gently guiding her as he relents her lips and pulls back enough for eye contact. His heart hammered wildly and surely she could feel it. Hear it even. It was all he could hear after all. In his gaze roared need. Desire. Anticipation. Begging. Her own quickened breaths suggested to him the same. And those old thoughts desperately clawed behind the wall.

Fake. Fake. Fake. She doesn’t mean it. Manipulator. Whore. But, I don't care. I don't care. , rang louder. Screamed louder. Love. Love. She loves me. She loves me.

His guidance would have her reaching that sweet spot. His movements still slow. Even when he sought to join their bodies together he is so gentle about it. Not like last time. This time he would let her catch her breath. Let her ease through it however she needed. His own breath catching, softly sucked in like a whispered hiss. Perfect. Perfect. It was perfect. This was perfect. She was perfect.

He would take his time. At least in the beginning, he woukd take his time. Yet as their tryst rolled on he would quicken his pacing. Harden his resolve. And leave his own marks upon her skin.

/Fade to Black

________________________

It felt like hours later, yet in truth he had no idea how long it had been. Vaguely he wonders if anyone had seen them but in the end he found he just simply did not care. He held her to him as they lay on that sun-bathed rock. Everything so slow and lazy and blissful.
The idea of sleep hung so dangerously close. Eyes fluttering open every now and then so as to remain awake. Claws tangled up softly in @Melusina's silken fur. Twirling sluggish curls. A deep growling purr rising and falling within the beat of his chest.

Everything felt so right. Like all the pieces were finally in place. Or so closely in place that it was hard to see any misalignment. And for once in his life, Cassius wished he could make time stop. To freeze them both forever in this euphoric dream.

All the anger from earlier no longer existed. No more creaking, bending or popping of that door. He was calm. He was content. He was-

Complaisant.

That was all it took. That one word ringing through him and halting it all. Slamming him harshly against the force that was Reality.
Look at you.
Look at him.
So pathetic.
Pathetic.
So weak.
Weak.
So tame.

Everything within him stills. The twirling claws, the deep purr, that need to fall into sleep. Slowly he shifts, drawing away from her warmth. Nerves on fire from the separation. I- He starts, caught between denial and need. I should go. Form rising up and further away from her. He had to pull away. Had to get away. The wall needed to go back up. And this part of himself needed to be tossed back over. Chained back down. Once again beheaded.

He had given in. Foolishly he had decided not to care. But he had to. Now that he was clear of her seductive fog, he needed to care enough to stay away. Stay out of her way. So that she could stay out of his. He had said that. They were his words. Ones he should have fucking followed.

This can't happen. But it did. This shouldn't have happened. But it did. Fate weaving her cruel web and ensnaring them both within no matter how hard he had tried to avoid it. No matter how hard he had tried to push her away. Bite her, claw her, hurt her, wish death upon her. Nothing had worked. Fate had been too strong in the end but he wasn't finished trying. It was just once. It was just one, perfect, right, blissful time. He gave in once. But that didn't mean he had to give in again. He got his taste of her. And a good one at that. It could be enough. He could make it be enough. A lasting memory to sate himself on whenever the need rose again. Whenever he found himself missing whatever this was. He could just use the memory of today to hold him back.

That had to be enough.

code by scorpixia♡︎ | art by drifter

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 doesn't know when it begins to feel this way. This eager recollection to the last time they were like this, on the hillside, when Cassius had nearly given her everything before wrenching her heart clean out of her chest. But it's different, and the landscape around her begins to shift into what it actually is—a meadow nestled in the far corner of Vermeda, the secret place she's come to escape the unwanted eyes and ears of others.

And he is here, and different, too. His eyes are softer, his caress gentler. She begins to wonder if this will be different. If he'll come to his senses at any moment and push her away as he's done before. But for each second that drags on he grows more fervent, and the furl of want that begins to bloom deep in her belly becomes something she swiftly can't ignore.

What had once been an almost chaste, innocuous overture had become unhurried kisses, and sweet nothings, and blissful sighs.

Her head leans down to plant a small kiss upon his brow, but she instead finds the broad warmth of his mouth against hers. A gasp catches between her lips and his. She had come to accept his nibbles and kisses to his possessiveness, to his drive to wash away any other scent that lingers on her skin without his permission. She had taken it as something of an advantage, a momentary spell with which she could weave that would make him feel like hers for just a moment. But as he kisses her with such urgency and such want, Melusina comes all apart, her preconceived notions all but quashed under the heat of his mouth.

She wants to speak, to whisper his name into his mouth and every other little encouragement she wants to voice aloud. But he is sweeping her in his arms, and he flips them with such an ease that he steals a gasp from her lips. Suddenly, she is on top, and from her position above him she can see the sprawl of the meadow in its final flowering of the season, and she can see him, and the sweeping plume of snow-white hand swooping into his face, and the rigid set of his jaw, making up the rest of his handsome features. And she feels small but not helpless, delicate but not weak. She has power. He has given her power, letting slip a part of his control he never has before, not even on that hillside.

Her eyes blink wide, at first, surprised. But then comes understanding, and the implications that he was trying to convey. He could very well shove her off and flee if he wants to, and she knows it, but there is something deeply gratifying and forthcoming about the way he relents it regardless.

Melusina has long asked herself how she could ever come to love a man like @Cassius ♔. She knows why, now. He takes and consumes and conquers, but here, he has given her a piece of himself.

She's crying, and for the first time they're tears of contentment and trust.

In tune with every movement, every breath, she follows his guidance with rapt affection. She lays ghost-kisses along his jawline, her hips press ever-so-pleasantly into the large span of his, and her eyes flutter shut as she loses herself in him. And as he grows rougher she does not relent. Rather, she repeats her mantra close, just under a whisper where he cannot hear her:

I love you. I love you. I love you.

---

Fade to black.

---

She is sleeping soundly, lulled by the gentle curl of his claw in her hair and warmth he radiates that competes with the sun. She doesn't recall when she drifted off—sometime between their ardent lovemaking and her lazy, sheepish kissing along his throat—but the time seems to drawl on with enjoyable slowness.

Dreams creep in that belong to the part of her that's still a girl, and they're of him, and of her, and of blissfully better days.

But then his purring halts, and he pulls his hand from her hair. Melusina rouses too slow, and she's still blinking away her sleepiness when he pulls entirely away. Almost immediately, her heart seizes in her chest, and the realization of what he was doing and what he was saying causes her heart to sink into her belly.

I— he begins, and she feels her heart seize. I should go.

He has found it—the line she fears. The very rock bottom with which he can scorn and humiliate her from which there is no return. She feels her face twist into one of shock, and hurt, and betrayal. She can't tell if the pain in her chest is from her held breath or her heartache.

Not again. Not again. Please.

Cass— she begins, but is cut off by the sound of her own choked sob.

Her face twists with a flurry of emotions. Grief, shame, anguish, anger. But her fury is not explosive and unrestrained; instead, it is tempered, and controlled, and made and remade and made again, until it is exhausted into nothing but a sputtering, decaying spark.

No, Cassius, she commands, but her voice is followed by a sniffle. You don't get to do this. Not again. Please—not again.

But she isn't moving. Why isn't she moving? She is so tired, so thoroughly blighted by grief and hate and regret. And love. Terrible, awful love.

Why can't we be together? she asks, and she feels as if she's asked herself this same question a thousand times and each time had a different answer. Why can't we make this work? I want to be with you. I want to be your wife. I want to—

be a family.

She swallows, hard.

I want to be yours.

She longs to understand the part of Freja that is so different that Cassius deems her acceptable to keep at his side. Perhaps it is because she had denied him for so long, and now he is simply seeking retribution as she might have had their roles been reversed. But Melusina had been just a little girl, and had one paw in his world, and one paw in hers; and when she had chosen her family over him she had paid the consequences of it.

But now she is here. Now she chooses him. Is it still not enough?

Just how many goodbyes would it take for her to understand that it still might not be enough?

This is the last time I'll let you leave. Her voice breaks, but her expression is quiet, and grave. I am yours, Cassius. But if you turn away from me now, then I'm gone.

Gone from him. Gone from Vermeda. Gone from—

She wonders if she has the heart.

She has to, lest history continue to repeat itself. She had told him herself, after all: it won't change anything. I'll still love you to the end of time.

Art by rabbit, table by cala

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [Harsh language. Talk of violent acts/death/corpse defilement.]


He had turned away by the time she is up. Having taken a couple steps before she is speaking. He ignores her at first. Yet as her words continued to flow, he pauses, back still turned, body rigid. But listening.

You don't get to do this.
Creak.
Why can't we be together?
Bend.
I want to be with you.
Pop.
I want to be yours.
I am yours, Cassius.
Crack. Leak. Spill.

The man whirls back around on her. Rage and sorrow both anchored tightly to his features. If he told her the truth would it change anything? His actions alone had not been enough. But he had yet to voice why. Had yet to put into words his reasoning - and his secret. Why? He hisses, clearly trying not to roar, to scream, to lose control. Because what I feel for you is more than love, Melusina. So much more. It was indescribable. It was old. It was ancient. Fate wrapped a cord around my heart and placed the other end into your tiny fist the day you were born. He had loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her. When she waddled up to try and stop him as he hurt Dagge's children. When she wanted to fight him herself. When he took her hand days later, led her out of her mother's den and forced her to be his playmate.

She may have been able to heal him back then. But such a job was never meant for a little girl. Now, as a woman, it was too late. And he was far from ever being that little boy again. Cassius could feel him from time to time. Especially now. But he was so small. And so weak. And Cassius needed a much stronger vessel.

But we can't. I can't. Mel, I will never fit into the skin of the type of man you need. He advances while fighting the urge to claim her again. His. His. His. That near familiar consuming feeling of possession. When mixed with this love, however; it was different. It was more relaxed. Calmer. Quieter. Subdued. She subdued him with just her presence. Tamed him into complete submission with just a look, a touch, a word. She had no idea the amount of control she wielded over him. And he hated it. It wasn't him. It could never be him. Not after everything.

I am not the sort of man you should want. I rip and tear and break not because I'm angry, or jealous, or jaded. I do it because I enjoy it. I thoroughly enjoy it. It brings me so much joy to listen to others scream. He dares to bring a claw to her cheek, not knowing what touching her again would do right now. But he was the master here. He needed to be the one to wield power over his emotions. You are the only one who gets a choice. Icefang, Abbadon, Faustine, Freja. All of them had a part to play. The Queen was just a means to an end while he was nothing more than a replacement for her husband. Abbadon was just a toy. Faustine shared in the carnage. She offered him the flesh tearing pain he needed to feel more than just alive. And Freja, Freja doesn't have that. She's enslaved to me. Feeling it more compelling to mention her rather than the others. She was the one they had argued over.
I need a wife that will do as I do. She would do it because I gave the order. Because it's my word or it's death. Claw twirling around a curl near her cheek. A forced hardness now laid upon his tone. If I asked you to kill for me, Melusina. Would you?

Eyes search hers. A plea glistening from deep within. He wanted her. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. But he could not have her as she was. Could not risk losing himself to this softer side. He needed her to be just as ruthless as he. Just as bloodthirsty. Just as power hungry. Then maybe he wouldn't have to fear. If you want to be mine then would you endorse my need for violence? My need for power? Would you endure my wrath? My desires? Would you let me rip you open every night? Would you let me hurt you for my own gratification? Because that is what he would want. He had heard her gasp for life before and it had been one of the most beautiful sounds. Had heard her cry so many times, had seen the fear in her eyes, and all of it was just simply immaculate.

If I asked you to tear Nikandr's entrails out so that I could dress you up in them, would you? Would you let me fuck you over his corpse? If the other reasons were not enough, then maybe that would be. Her friend. Could she kill her own friends for him? She'd yet to confront him over Dominic's eye. Either the boy had been lying about his relationship with her or she was colder than Cassius was assuming. But he had seen her with Nikandr. The way they talked. The way they laughed.

Could you be the type of wife I need? If her answer was yes then he'd take her now and solidify their union. He would fuck her until she was raw and he was the only thing that existed. Until he was the only thing that would ever matter again. Or would she say no? Would this be enough for her to finally see him for what he truly was? What everyone else saw, but she, for whatever reason, refused to see?

I'm a villain, @Melusina. And you're the girl. And not just any girl. Melusina Starke was the girl.

And no villain ever got the girl.

code by scorpixia♡︎ | art by drifter