Go lock up all your children
He breathes her name and it is just as she remembered. His voice is soft and oh so sweet, brushing away the gathered thoughts like cobwebs in her head. She watches him carefully, afraid, so afraid that she will watch him shatter like the fragile thing he is. She knows in her heart of hearts that she would fall apart if she saw that a second time.
Trembling legs take tentative steps towards him, pulled by invisible strings, she steps slowly into the light. She wants to run to him, to press her skin against his and feel the peace of mind that he is real. That he exists. That he's alive. But the gunmetal mare holds back. She doesn't want to see the fear and disgust that he must surely be watching her with.
Over and over she sees the life they could've had together playing out like a fantasy. The time they had spent wrapped in each other, their island paradise, their beautiful son. It was the false memories and renewed sense of love for the man made of glass that pushed her past her own reservations and into the sunlight. It wasn't the prettiest picture.
Dried blood was matted in her hair from the rapid growth of her horns. Her proud head hung low under the newly gained crown. Fresh scars wrapped themselves like puckered vines around her legs and throat, mingling to form a lace like pattern with the old ones. Her wings, now fully formed, were ragged along the edges, torn and missing feathers giving them a sinister look. And through it all the feral gleam of the wolf flowed in her eyes.
What a frightening thing she was. A demon dredged from the bowels of hell. Ever so slowly she raises her head to look at him, really look at him, and allow herself to be seen in return. "I was drug through my dreams by a demon," she almost laughs at that. How classic her, getting mixed up with demons at the slightest provocation. Instead she feels the tears start again. "We, were so happy, and had a son. Then there were wolves, and..." Tyrna's voice falters and her head drops. Haltingly she recounts her tale, trying her hardest I leave out the more violent and gruesome aspects. By the time she is done she is far more exhausted than she had imagined. Now she simply waited for the fear and hatred to set in and for Contagion to cast her aside.
Tyrna took one last step forward and gently brushed a kiss against his neck. "I'm sorry for...all of this. I...love you, and I will leave you alone now if you like. What a monster you must think I am." And in the harsh light of day, she's right.
Tyrna
And paint blood upon your door