so you want to play with magic?
you should know what you're falling for.
The power was all-consuming. It was a heady scent that was like a drug to all who tasted it of its purest form. True power didn’t come in the form of titles. The true essence of power comes from the simple knowledge that you could take whatever you wanted—whether or not you acted upon the urge. When other people recognized this fact, that is where the true point of fact lay. Offspring was one of those men whose dark past and his unsettling demeanor proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that power was his for the taking—and all he had to do was outstretch his hand to take whatever he wanted. you should know what you're falling for.
Land, women.
They would all fall at his feet, if he so desired.
But Reagan was not most women. She lifts her head to look over his shoulder. The barest hint of twilight is on the rise, a red glow that clings to the horizon, as if the whole expanse has been set ablaze. That sense of sheer power claws at her throat, desperate to get out. She swallows it down, and her color is muted down to that of pure black. Her eyes, they revert to her natural emerald green, and in the cold of the dark, she makes a connection with the way his brimstone colored gaze settles upon her skin, and she burns with the heat of it. Her body is muscular, weathered with age and experience. But though she is no mere mortal, she could feel herself carving her body to match his roving glances, thinking that perhaps she had underestimated the power that he would have on her. On anyone. That he would have the power to command—even her… it was unknowing. Unthinkable.
She starts when he speaks again, and her thoughts are pulled in, roped like a horse at the tether, chomping at the bit to be free. But she cannot stop the thundering in her heart. “If you have a lingering question that goes unanswered, perhaps putting audible words would help you find the answer you need. Though I gather you do not trust many for guidance.” She darts her eyes to the babbling brook at their feet, the low-toned whistle gathering in her ears. Her magic allowed her to view the world in a different way than most people, and while she was grateful for the power she wielded, his prevue was precisely right—the curse of bearing so much power was cumbersome if not meticulously cared for. And she had let It get away from her.
He speaks again, and the fire on the horizon grows, beckoning the slow entrance of the sun’s arrival. His accusation—albeit correct—that she is a magician. At that, her eyes widen, and she laughs airly, drawing herself a step closer to his heat, desperately trying not to touch it… lest she be burned. “Your wife must keep you under a rock if you have not heard of me,” she smiles. She had thought that the magicians were so few that their names were considered commonplace. “I was friends with Magnus, before he..departed. Taiga was friends with Tephra.” Reagan then falls silent, not wanting to deal with politics just then. She is no longer a Queen, no longer an Alpha. The need for such talk is over. Reagan simply wants to be.
And for the moment, she wants to be with Offspring. For whatever that might mean. Reagan trembles—every sensory organ she has is on fire, sensing all the world around her. The heat, the cold, the river. The wind, the water, the rough and smooth of the rocks at her feet. Him. Her. She has never been so present in her life.
He changes the subject once more, giving Reagan time to appreciate his countenance. A man with such troubles. Such age. He turns the conversation to something much more personal, and the breath catches in her throat, before she exhales slowly. Bringing up Jinju—their daughter, such an odd connection, that even pulled at her heartstrings to think about—and his fire. The darker side of their blood. That, perhaps, those with power, are not the ones who want it. A curse that befalls them all.
A curse that Reagan knows only too well.
She steps closer again, her nose at the point of his shoulder, a mere breath away. His skin is burning liquid fire from his heat, and she feels herself shudder once more. Her voice is hushed, and she does not look into his eyes, but the intent is clear. “Jinju is a strong girl. And she reminds me so very much of you. Your blood flows in her veins, and she has embraced it. She will be very powerful one day.” She breathes, her breast falling slowly, and speaks again, dropping her voice even lower. “Do you ever think…that if you gave in to what you fear, you would not be trapped? Instead, you would find your freedom? That you could free yourself of the life that you are so badly trying to cleave away from?”
Reagan