Wallace
"It's doubtful," he said, and she didn't even bother to feel dismay at that. She was powerless and her secrets were just going to be yelled at everyone with the magic to hear them. Fabulous. Awesome. Fantastic.
Whatever.
She found it curious that he just stood there so strong and still, watching her with those piercing eyes that saw all of her regardless of how badly she wished she could hide. But, like the scars of lace at her hips, she was just going to have to bear it openly and let the world stare. She still didn't really understand why he was here though, what made him stop and talk to her. He could have easily shut out her thoughts and kept on his way. But she also didn't want to think about it, didn't want to know.
"Steel is forged in fire, and this is your flame." Her head tilted at that, her eyes going a little distant as she brought up other memories, much older memories. Visions of her and her twin as children, always playing tricks and getting into trouble. Wallace and Dharwyn, named after scientists and equally as sharply intelligent and clever. She'd buried that part of her when they'd been separated, hid it and dumbed down her intellect to keep from being shunned by the rare people that would actually speak with her. It did no good to speak in jargon they couldn't comprehend.
But she shook the memories away with an inaudible sigh. It also did no good to live in the past. Must also be tempered in water, quenched and strengthened, she murmured low, her heart a little heavier at remembering her sister. Yes, there was two of them with men's names. Unless she was dead. But where was her water? What would bind and strengthen her again.
She lifted her eyes, but they snagged at his shoulder where his wound drew deeper. And then he was hazy and distorted as his magic swallowed her in an illusion. She was instantly afraid, taking a step back, so afraid of what he would show her. Kindness so often hurt her lately, and he had been that with her thus far; short but kind. She got the feeling maybe that wasn't his usual side, that he pitied her and became something else for her fragile moods. But she didn't want to think about that either, and tried to grasp at the vision that played before her.
It was Reilly, tall and white and strong with his heart in his eyes. For a moment he just stared at her that way, so deeply, and her pulse suddenly soared because he was changing, shifting, transforming into another face, another body, -Ashley?- and then back again. And then he was pressed against her, his body so strong and solid and safe, fevered kisses along her neck and she gasped. It felt good, so good, but she was terrified and bit into him to get him to back off. And he did. He jerked back as if she had burned him, and she instantly felt regret that the warmth and heat was gone. Instantly missed it.
But then he shifted, wavered, and it was Sabrael instead. And that was definitely a look he'd never given her before, wild and hungry as he breathed heavily, trembled, tried to control himself, hold himself in place. She felt her eyes match the heat in his, ache for him even as she stood and challenged him and tried to tell him to go away. And then it played over again, and it was him ignoring that demand and pressed against her, his urgent kisses claiming her. That definitely felt good, her adrenaline charging and racing. She was afraid though, so afraid.
Afraid to feel love. To be loved.
She bit him as before, as hard as she could, but he only groaned -roared- and pushed more firmly against her. She gasped, wished that didn't send her pulse racing and blood heating, wish she didn't like it so much. Still, she fought, battled her heart and him. He shimmered, smoothed. "That's right, Lacey baby, fight all you want. I'm not going anywhere," he crooned sweetly, he promised in Kirby's perfectly sexy-smooth voice. He knew what she was running from, and he didn't care. He'd make her face this until she was whole again, until she accepted there was nothing she could do to make him abandon her.
She almost fell for it, almost sank into it. She wanted to surrender, she did, but she couldn't. And they kept changing, even as she knew it was Sabrael or Kirby against her he would wear Reilly's face, or Ashley's wings, or even Woolf's eyes. Never holding one body completely.
Then it was mostly Woolf, staring down at her with hard eyes that were somehow soft too. She stared back with wide eyes, uncertain if she wanted to reach tentatively for him or piss him off, get a rise out of him. That should not be as fun as it sounded just then. But it was a vision, right? So she could do whatever the hell she wanted. He was only here because she didn't know any other men anyway. So she did both, in her way. She glared a challenge at him, and yet also tested boundaries with a soft kiss to his nose. Do something, I dare you, she didn't say.
And then her eyes focused, and she realized she really was staring up at him from barely a hair's breadth from his nose, her heart still beating frantically against its cage. Oops. Ah, hell. She grimaced, but didn't step back.
Let's... maybe not do the vision thing again.
