Valka
I despised it all in the first few days of his wicked conditioning. I cried a lot like a child and wanted nothing more than to smash the glass. I hadn’t realized how bad it was until then, how I had convinced myself that I was no longer beautiful.
After a few weeks, I got used to my reflection. I didn’t hate it any less, but it got ’bearable’.
He did things to my lactating breasts that made cry and beg and appreciate the experience, because that sensitivity was sothing unusual and he was taking full advantage of every bit of it.
He would tease my nipples until they spurted milk. And then he’d finger it back into and make sing, "I am enough, I am worth loving, I am worth staying for, I am worth living for. I am beautiful. I am needed. I am perfect. I have nothing to be ashad of. This body gave life and I am proud of it."
Other tis, the things he made say and do were rather filthy.
Like the one ti I made the comnt that my breasts looked like jugs. He made suck from them. They shouldn’t have even touched my lips, but they were heavy and full and it was easy and... new... and incredible. The feel of his tongue against the bundle of nerves between my thighs, the way his hands cupped the under of my ass that I’d deed too large and fitted, and the stroke of my tongue against my own nipples...
And when I was on the edge of climax, he’d make say those darned words that made my release explosive.
"It doesn’t matter what shape I wear. Every version of has been created to sate your particular appetite. Use . Break . Possess . Ruin . Cut open and remake however you want. Keep underneath your skin. I belong nowhere else. Fill up every crevice. I’m prettiest when I’m obedient. I listen better when I’m kneeling. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll give you whatever, so long as you keep my throat occupied. I’m sexiest when I can see what you do to in the mirrors. I am wild. I am sexy. I am sexiest with my tongue stuck out my mouth and your fingers around my neck. No. I’m always sexy."
And gods, did he praise . He never stopped until I discovered I had a kink for Lucien’s praises.
When he was through with , there wasn’t a single part of my body I wasn’t obsessed with.
Evadne and Katherine teased for weeks, swearing Lucien had "fucked my muscles back into being toned." I told her to shut up, but a part of believed her. Because I did look better. Stronger... revived... whole.
He didn’t just touch my body. He rewired it. He rewired .
"Where in the pits of hell has your mind wandered off to?" Lucien laughs into my mind, though his voice sounds strange. "A little awkward sitting in this cursed eting with a tent in my pants because my wife’s thinking about jumping my bones."
My cheeks flush red and I slam my ntal walls back up imdiately. Only to find Evadne staring at with disgust. "Gods, Lyra. That bad?"
I blink, noticing how the room slls earthy, like arousal. I want to crawl into a hole and hide. The maids tending the kids look a second away from laughing at . It’s happened so many tis, they know what cos next.
Any second now, Lucien’s going to co barrelling through those doors. And we’ll make it halfway through the hallways, sending the servants in a scurry to get rid of this never ending whirlwind of want between us.
"Leave alone," I mutter shyly, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"I’ve chosen Sebastian," Evadne announces, jerking out of my terrible thoughts. "I know, I know," she adds before I can open my mouth and tell her what a horrible idea that is. "I’m not going to marry him. Just... use his seed."
I can’t keep the shock off my face. "It’s a lycan-hating seed!"
"But it’ll be a beautiful one, nonetheless, don’t you think?" she nods over to where he stands over Asterin, peering into the chess board with a frown and pointing at sothing, accusing my three-year old son of cheating.
"No, it’s not," I whisper-shout. "I thought you were into Astrea. She’s his sister!"
"Why can’t I like both?"
"The problem is not with where your affections lie. You want to have a baby for that murdering man. Do you know he tried to behead when I was in the training camps?"
Evadne’s pointed nose scrunches up. "What does that have to do with the baby we’re going to make? He’ll just be like a surrogate or sothing--"
"That is not how surrogacy works!"
At this point, everyone looks up at us strangely. I lower my voice. "Close your eyes and imagine. Ten years, maybe twenty years from now. Lycan genes are strong, so your child might look very much like a Lycan. Do you see Sebastian being a good father and accepting that his blood looks like one of us? After all the not so subtle ways he’s called us beasts?"
She doesn’t even close her eyes or think about it. "You used to call us beasts. You wiped out an army of us with a single blow. But here you are now. Changed and one of us."
"It’s different, Eva. I was a half-breed and it’s more complicated than that. That man there has been trained his entire life to hate us." I reach for her hand and grasp her fingers. "I support whatever decision you make. I’m only concerned for you. My father once said there’ll co a point in your life when you get to decide who the father of your children will be. It is important you make the best choice because it’s not just your life it’ll affect, but theirs, too."
She suddenly looks so young and determined, it makes laugh faintly. She’s already made up her mind from what little I can see. And I know it has more to do with the fact that she might want a child, but Sebastian’s the only man that she’s ever taken into her bed, the only one she’s ever let co close.
She’s begun to heal but I fear it might be too early to decide this. Or maybe I just don’t like Sebastian. I can’t tell. Am I overreacting?
Still, I reach for her cheek and swipe my thumb over it. "I love you, you know that?"
She makes a face. "I’m still considering stealing you from Lucien, you know that?"
As if hearing his na, the double doors part and he cos bursting through. Eva rolls her eyes and mutters sothing about the gods saving us all under her breath as my body cos to attention under his stare, my chest tightening and my back arching.
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