are you ready for a perfect storm? any. {M}

[Reagan]

so you want to play with magic?
you should know what you're falling for.

There was a small moment in her head that reminded her that perhaps she stood a chance for another life. That perhaps, once she had recovered and controlled herself once more, that she would go home… to the forest that she had helped create. The trees that bowed to her, and called out to her even now; she could feel them tugging on her heart, drawing her away from the river banks and back into the embrace of their shadow. Into enveloping presence of their protection. She let out a small gasp as she breathed in his scent, taking in the smell of heat and sulphur. A scent she was unfamiliar with. An intoxicating musk that made her want to know more. Tephra, all those years ago. Taiga, the home of her heart.

The man who had held her heart. And then had crushed it.

Offspring speaks, his voice gruff, bubbling with agitation at the mere mention of her home, and her head jerks slightly, emerald green eyes finding his. “Do not mistake my powers for idiocy, Offspring. I do not have to lean on my blood to make me a smart, albeit dangerous woman.” her voice is crackling like a sparkler. “It was I who named the trees, and called them the Taiga. Romek and Demian faded into nothingness, And It was I who looked after his daughters and took care of Maribel in his absence. I sought Magnus out of peace, and did come to an understanding of friendship.” She looks at him then, the politician coming to the fore, her voice back to a pointed matter of fact tone. And then the softness returns to her face, and she reaches forward, touching the curve of his shoulder with the tip of her nose. “I am not your enemy.” Reagan breathes against his skin, stepping towards him once more. “And It would not be the first time that those who hear of me as a magician first… before they have any interest in me as a woman.” Her voice is sad—distant, and she looks up over the crest of his back, seeing the sun continuing its slow crawl up the horizon, tinging the world pink, setting the tops of the trees ablaze with color. The beauty is not lost on her, and a single, solitary tear drops from her eyes, down the side of her cheek.

“I was deposed,” she says, dropping her eyes to the ground, giving vocal utterance to it for the first time. “My relationship imploded when the current leader stopped talking to me. Wanted nothing to do with me. He found solace in the friendship of others. And I…I make one mistake, and I am cast aside. I was nothing to him.” Hushed words. A broken heart.

She sniffs, clearing her head and taking in his scent again, setting her heart thundering against his body as she draws herself into his skin, resting against his heat. The strong shoulder that he gave her to lean upon, a crutch to keep her standing—for it had been he who had cauterized the wounds left to her by her ex-husband. The one she still wanted.

The one who did not want her.

Offspring stands like a stone statue, a lee in the storm of Reagan’s turbulent life, her stormy heart. And just for the quiet moment, she rests her head upon his back, and breathes. “I just want to be free,” she says. “To do what I want to do. To be who I want to be.” She continues to watch the sun rise, and lifts her head, stepping far enough back and tilting up to level her gaze with his. To make sure he was paying attention to her. To let him feel her heart rattling against her breast. “There is a price that comes with everything. The price for life is death. The price for power, is privacy. The price for magic—it is your soul. But fire can be used, to fashion something perfect—to weed out its imperfections. To make something that was wrong, right again.” And then, without asking, she steps fully into his embrace, taking in his heat with her own, ebony skin on obsidian carved muscles. Reagan slides her body down his, until her shoulders rest comfortably in the crux of his hips, and she once again is watching the fires of the day overtake the cold damp of the night. “I would take you as you were. If your heart were for purchase, I would pay the price of magic… and more. Anything to see you be free again.”

Reagan