she concedes, but he finds that the fire does not leave his veins. instead as they stand, bloodied and bruised with teeth stained crimson, he finds that he is sparked anew. as he often is with a woman before him, especially one who has so many tricks up her sleeve. still there are not many that can snare him quite so readily, and his breathing slows but his words are no less husky. "what i want to say needs no words," a low rumble, his eyes noting the track of hers and a smirk twisting his lips in answer. alaric makes his move, then, pressing forward, ever closer, and attempting to drop those lips to her cheek. there he will attempt to lay a surprisingly gentle kiss. still there is an edge, there, barely restrained, and a determination that cannot be entirely ignored. he has set his sights on her, and he will not be easily deterred. "so what say you, @Nusura," his lips slide towards her ear, to lay her name there, no more than a mere whisper.""

art by cloudy//art by cloudy

WIDE AWAKE IN THIS VIOLET CITY Ah, and there it goes. The world descends into a complexity that frightens her. Alaric is more than a body close to hers- he is a presence. A shift in gravity that leaves her inner-ear disjointed. As his lips touch her cheek, the smooth muscle there quivers. Then his mouth is at her ear and she answers in a breathless hum. "I think…I need some air." She aims to gently move her hind legs to push herself up and away just slightly so that she can face away. Yet she is careful how she moves away from him, she is not demanding. Like water she hopes only to flow where the path may open for her. The question of what it might feel like to have Erna ripping her throat out begins to flicker in her peripheries. Or the sudden click of Alaric’s own jaws snapping inches from her face. A danger here or there to herd her one direction, then the next. With just a bit of distance she inhales to bring her poise back together. To smooth her apprehension into humor. Even if he allows her to move, she is still close enough to honey the tension of her uncertainty. "If you want to evaluate my other...skills, my lord, perhaps I can suggest a fitting challenge." She had no idea where she was going with that. She just needed to bide some time, to let her mind work, full well knowing that playing “hard to get” might goad him on. It wasn’t her intention. Nusura had never had the option of being a wife, much less discovering what physical attraction or gods-forbid, romantic love, might actually be or look like. That simply wasn’t the world she had occupied. She had sold her rights to such things for her freedom, and she would do it again if she had to. But she didn’t suspect Amaryllis was like that, nor even that her king was. This wasn't Sinaht, where the king had sold the priestesses to the highest bidder as punishment for their perceived disloyalty. No, this wasn't Sinaht. It didn't help, though. In truth she felt like an inexperienced, awkward little whelp. Part of her felt the sensation of threat when posed with the very idea of allowing herself to enjoy the thrill of Alaric's touch. It wasn't like during her captivity, she had to be honest about that. That was a time she would not think about. Another part of her wanted to...test it. To push the limits of just what made Amaryllis different. To truly know whether Alaric was different. Well, being that he had a bear for a wife and fresh cublings in the cupboard, but couldn’t seem to tell a fight from a fuck – she didn’t think he was that different, really. But this harmony she had achieved, well...it was so precarious. She knew seeking more would be like making a fresh kill and bragging about it: it was just letting the wolves know there was something to fight for. An invitation for risk. But she could still make this work, could still tie herself to a purpose without making herself a target. She just needed to be clever. That was all. Nusura had never wanted to fight wolves, after all. Even if she knew just how to destroy them. @Alaric

alaric was not always a patient man. he pressed his luck and told bold strides and did not so quickly back down from a challenge. it was the very reason that he stood where he did today -- it was why he had this pride, and those that lived here beneath him. in the same vein, though, it was why he had enemies. silver tongue or not, he had earned his share along the way, as those who made waves in the world often did. fortune favored the bold, sure, but the meek were told that they would inherit the earth. so which was it? he chases and she retreats and he is left realizing that he has misread the situation. the feeling he thought was mutual was perhaps not, and he had shown his hand too early in the game. "take all the air you need," he rumbled, and there is the barest hint of a tease in his voice. still he steps back, just a little, and gives her what she asks for. until she is mentioning a challenge and he cannot help but perk at the notion -- maybe not all was lost. he follows, then, regaining the slight step back, finding himself wanting to maintain some measure of contact with the one he had only just bloodied. "what do you have in mind, @Nusura ?" and her name is like honey on his lips.""

art by cloudy//art by cloudy

WIDE AWAKE IN THIS VIOLET CITY Her heart dares to trust – even for a second- as he gives her the space she gently requested. But Nusura is too world-weary to let her guard down, to believe that he would so easily simply give up. Without thinking, she reaches up to attempt to place her right paw gently on the side of his shoulder. A friendly touch. Enough to show warmth without being sensual. "Challenge me to protect your family: your wife, your children, and yourself." She says conversationally, letting her paw fall back to support her. "I want to have you and them, and perhaps the whole pride, on a regiment of herbs and nutrients that gird your bodies. I want to educate the pride on common symptoms, smells to watch out for. Tactics used by assassins. I will provide you, your family, and your officers with purgatives to have on hand." She is able to talk without a quiver in her voice, but only just barely. Nusura pauses, slanting her head a bit and resting her eyes on his face thoughtfully as though she could see even the minute details of his face. This close, she could almost imagine the detail that would otherwise be there. She could see his pale skin, his electric eyes like caustic glow of venom, dark hair and silvered smile. She wondered how many hearts he toyed with, all the women he’s laid out before him. No wonder Erna was so on edge. In Sinaht it was quite common for men to have many women, but Nusura didn’t imagine it made it sting any less when their hearts intwined. Actually it was somewhat endearing to imagine that Erna truly loved Alaric. So now that she has steered the tension toward Alaric’s family, exposing her fears of assassins in the night. Nusura spoke lower, shifting her gaze beneath his. Almost coy, almost submissive. "Your enemies are my enemies, Alaric. There are things I am still learning, but I am smart." Her eyes glint then, even as they don’t focus on anything in particular. The slightest twist at the corner of her lips, her cheek, the echo of a would-be smile. " I want to be useful. More than that I want to belong." I want to be safe. Those words trip up on her tongue and remain unsaid, traded for something else entirely. "I will do whatever it takes." @Alaric

a better man might have kept the disappointment from his face when offered such value — it is a good thing, then, that she will not likely be able to pick up on this subtle shift of expression. Alaric wrestled with it, but this denial comes so soon on the heels of Slaines and he cannot help but wonder what he was doing wrong. It had never been this difficult for him; perhaps @Nusura would give him a long overdue lesson in persistence. As she speaks an unexpected realization dawns — he trusted her. Trust is not something Alaric doles out easily, especially not to women, but he is growing and maturing every day he wears this heavy crown. Nusura has become important to him, and not only because he has been drawn in to her web from that very first meeting. “You are useful,” he says easily, because it was true, “and your knowledge will be immensely valuable.” it was said in a way that made it clear he gave her full permission to do as she pleased, to guide them and teach them all how to stay safe. Still when she looks at him, touches him, he cannot help the pull he also feels. He tenses beneath her paw and flexes his claws as he fights to hold himself still. “You do belong,” with me, and his voice is undeniable husky even as he respects her with whatever space she needs.""

art by cloudy//art by cloudy

WIDE AWAKE IN THIS VIOLET CITY She might not be able to see it but she does sense a shift in him and it tugs her heart down into a place she didn’t want it to be. She didn’t want to feel guilt for disappointing him. Despite her fears, her inviolable desire to be careful and to survive, there is a pride there which sometimes rears up and surprises her. To feel remorse is a good way to be manipulated, to be bent in ways she didn’t want. Yet there it was, a hot writhe in her chest. Part of her is almost disappointed in herself. But her pride is there, her will to survive, to gently put its hand on her shame and to remind her that she is worthy. She is not doing something bad, she is not bad. She is protecting herself and that is good. Some voice of a stronger woman within her tenderly reminds, Do not let a need to love, to please, to be important – to become the knife that could end you, when it should be your power. She inhales deeply, letting oxygen trickle through her body and dissipate the heat. Like blowing out a flame. Now that her breath has cooled her emotion, she lingers near him still. For a long moment she strolls through herself to check how she feels. To make sure the next move will be her own, uncoerced and free of the pitiful impulse to save Alaric’s pride by sacrificing her own dignity. No, this is deliberate and thoughtful – gentle, meaningful, and true. She can give him this, and see whether it means anything to him at all. She lifts her paw and it lingers in front of his cheek for a moment, as if asking permission, before she gently aims to touch him. She attempts to touch his cheek, his mouth, and to work her way up to his brow and eyes. To feel the man that is there, to map out the cambers of his face. "I want to thank you, Alaric. For giving me a home." Her voice begins to shiver. "You have no idea what it has meant to me." I will not mess it up. She slowly lets her hand fall now that she has seen him with it, and she wonders her pale eyes continue to seek him whether she could eventually give him what he wanted. Her body, her loyalty...her heart? She backs up just a bit, like water again, flowing where space provides. She doesn’t want to torment him, and there was much work to be done...gods, she had just made a huge promise. Her head began to swim a bit from the prospect. @Alaric

As she reaches for him he is at war with himself. Impulses of days gone by, thoughts planted in a young mind so many years ago. Telling him that this was his right, she was his right, as a man, a Starke. Whispering at him to take what he wanted, to mark her as his, and damn how much she fought. Dark murmurs in his mind as he flexes his claws and scours the earth beneath them. Alaric is not a patient man, not even a good man, but he is strong, and he wins the battle against those shadowed impulses. He stands still as she maps him out beneath her butterfly touch, the slightest hitch in his breath the only indication of his inner battle. Mine he thinks again and knows that he will eviscerate anybody who tries to take her from him. “I want to know,” he said abruptly as she finished and gave him thanks, “when…. If you want to tell me. I want to know more about you.” Not now, he knew, when she was perched and poised to leave. “Next time…” and he would count the days until that time came.""

art by cloudy//art by cloudy

WIDE AWAKE IN THIS VIOLET CITY She does feel tension there, hears the hitch of his breath, roiling beneath her touch and there is even a thrill of fear again within her to wonder at the inner battle waging in his walls. She has no way of knowing the extent of it, of course. She would be much farther away if she had. What he says gives her more pause than even his lips had, and she looks stricken for a moment. Not hurt, and something more than surprise. The tentative smile on her lips is wistful. "It would be a pleasure, my lord." She says, and then feels like a girlish doe, choking back a humorless laugh within herself at the foolishness of such a reaction. Why did him wanting to know more about her, or at least pretending to want to know more about her – make the pound of meat in her chest flutter so? She shakes her head a bit, slapping down the giddy wonder but allowing herself a private grin. Between she and her, the absurdity of it could be appreciated. "I am at your call. Until then, Alaric." She twirls her paw and bows gently, and finds that the space between them as she walks away brings relief from the heat but also a melancholy that she drags along with her. A persistent tug that tells her to go back, melt into him, give in to every impulse her body has whether mental or carnal. Let him worship your curves, let him make you feel safe and appreciated…. loved…. even if it is a lie. But she is strong, too, and she keeps walking, going to find her tree and herbs to dab them on her wounds and to drown herself in work. Occasionally still shaking her head. -exit

Even if she does not bend beneath him, even if she does not give him what he truly wants, he feels as though he has earned a victory here today. Something new has sparked and yet he has resisted that constant urge to take and has instead only given. A title, well earned, but also something more preciously guarded - his trust. Still he wants to chase her as she leaves, to try to convince her that now was a good time as any to give in to those desires. Instead he finds a small smile, a twitch of lips she will not likely see. “I look forward to it.” he would find her soon, perhaps sooner than she would like, to take his next move in this game they had begun. Until then he turns and heads to his den to find his wife and a release for the pent up tension. -exit-""

art by cloudy//art by cloudy