Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
In between kisses, Gale glances at the lifeless child. Mazikeen had killed her, had slit her throat, and now Mazikeen is pressing up against him with a lustful hunger that matches his own. She’d killed a child - her child - for him, and minutes later she is writhing wantonly beneath him.
What a marvel.
What a wondrous, glorious thing.
If she has done this, she will do anything.
The possibilities are endless, and he smiles as he returns his attention to caresses, to parting the soft fur of her throat where her new heart beats her blood so rapidly. Mazikeen’s neck and throat are red with Sickle’s blood by the time she turns over for him, and he has her by the hips before he realizes that she’s wretching.
He springs away, startled and disgusted. Her grief is stronger now, traveling back through the conduit between them, and as she catches fire it flares up in him too, sensations that the black shadow creature should never feel. Wrong.
Make it stop, she begs, but the Curse is too busy solving the awful emotion that she’s given him.
He is sad about the girl being dead, and so he knits her throat back together and starts her heart, though she remains still and unconscious. It takes the last of his strength, but he doesn’t realize until it is done, until the last vestiges of his magical reserve run dry and he is panting and empty.
“Take it to Tephra,” he snarls, reeling from both emotion and exhaustion, but staying on his feet lest she suspect. “And come back immediately. I am not done with you tonight.”
And then he’s turning, running into the woods as fast as his feet can take him.
@Mazikeen
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