Valka
Very slowly, his hand retracts from my neck. Sothing is happening to him. Not sothing. The shift. He’s shifting. His hair is way past his shoulders now, falling to his bare torso, his features starker and severe, hints of silver fur growing on his skin.
Anger completely forgotten and replaced with fear, my body quakes as he reaches for my chest, a finger hooking in the neckline of the flimsy dress and with a curious, almost reverent look, he shreds it.
Cool air kisses my skin, my nipples tightening. His claws run up the side of my neck gently, hovering over the tingling mark on my skin. Every nerve beneath my skin seems to spark and ache under the contact. "Lucien?" I breathe.
At the sound of his na, he pauses. Then blinks, brows furrowing in slight confusion. And then, he looks down at himself, at his hands, blinking again, the violet returning to his eyes briefly.
And in that mont of clarity, his eyes et mine. "Valka," he rasps. I hear bones snapping. His. "Get out from beneath . Please."
I nod, but the mont I shift, my hips brush against his and that small, accidental contact is catastrophic. Heat flares between us like a forge brought to life. Lucien groans, hands snapping to my waist, pinning there. "N-not... like... that."
"Alright," I whisper, breath hitching, all the fight gone from .
His claws curl on my waist, He dips his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, shuddering. "When the hunger cos like this, it is hard... to keep him at bay. It hasn’t happened since... Ilya." His breath ghosts over my throat, fangs grazing the tender skin there, and molten heat pools low in my belly. "I cannot... physically separate myself from you. Gods, you sll so good."
A whimper escapes before I can swallow it back. My thighs shift, parting slightly of their own accord, and sha burns through . His hands drift from my waist to where the dress has bunched around my thighs and the second his fingers et bare skin, he rips them away as if burned. They slam into the bedpost instead, splintering the wood. When his gaze finds again, it’s violet-gold and wild, his chest heaving with the force of holding himself back.
"The mont I saw you in that dress," he murmurs, voice wrecked and reverent, "I knew precisely what I wanted. I wanted to crawl beneath your skin and make a ho there. I wanted to carve myself into the marrow of your bones so that even the gods would know you were mine. I wanted to brand my na into your blood until there was nothing left of you that did not answer to ."
The confession robs of air. Rage coils with sothing far worse, want, as my treacherous body arches towards him.
"I will never forgive you," I whisper, the words shaking as they leave . "Not for what you’ve done. Not for what you’re about to do."
But my body betrays , slick with want and humiliation. The scent of it clings to the air, too heavy to ignore. I sll it. He slls it.
With frightening speed, he wrenches himself away from completely. One heartbeat, he looks ready to devour whole. The next, he’s by the door, trembling, shifting, dragging breath after breath into his lungs as if trying to breathe out.
"Maybe I am as selfish as you think," he says hoarsely, every word a battle against the beast beneath his skin. "Maybe I am mad. Because I do not regret this--not for a second. I would do it again. A thousand tis." His gaze scorches from across the room, and the hunger in it is no less consuming for the distance. "But you’re wrong, Valka. I did not bind you to claim your body. I do not wish to take a single thing you are unwilling to give."
My pulse riots.
"I gave my word," he says, softer now, almost gentle. "My hands will only know your skin when you will it. When you ask for them. When you plead for them." His eyes drag over , dark and sinful, and the faintest ghost of a smile twists his lips. "And you will plead. You will learn the shape of , the weight of what I am. You will co to understand . And one day, gods help you, you will love ."
And then he’s gone, leaving colder than I’ve ever felt. Alone. Exhausted.
It starts slowly in my chest, a small heave, a sharp inhale, and then an exhale. Trembling fingers, a gasp. I clutch at my chest, fat wretched sobs escaping . I hurt. For many reasons I couldn’t have explained to him.
A part of had wondered. Let myself fantasize about it for a mont. Being his. And that part of wanted it. Him. But not like this. I wanted because I could choose, not because I was tricked into it. Now, I can no longer tell where my feelings end and where this cursed bond begins. And I’ll never know if these useless feelings co from . Or the bond. Or Ilya. I’ll never be able to disentangle it.
And there is another part of that vehently refuses the idea. Fights against it. Because being his would an losing myself. It was one more part of to give away to Ilya. One morning, I could wake up and no longer be Valka, all traces, all of who I am completely gone.
It was already hard enough. Two days ago, I’d been craving persimmons. I hate persimmons. Margot said Ilya loved them. Later, I’d caught myself walking to the gardens yesterday to tend to the flowers. I’ve never had a thing for flowers. My palate is changing. My wants are changing. My life is changing, without being able to chart the course of it anymore.
My fingers clasp around the necklace he’d given . What does Lucien want from ?
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