"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Another lovely night, another meander through the forest Revol has come to love so much. The full moon shines down on the world from high above, its silver light filtering through the ever-thickening canopy of mid-spring greenery. And some of it even reaches down to meet the silver of her face, a gentle caress of like to like.
She’s always loved the moonlight.
Time has passed, as it is wont to do, since her adventure with her nameless lover elsewhere in this forest of hidden delights. She’d drifted off to sleep with him standing over her, but when she’d awoken it was to the silver and white of her very first imagining standing beside her only in her mind, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. No words, but he’d never needed them. Quiet, steady, watchful, that was her shining knight. And when he’d made sure she was alright (mmm, so very alright) he’d smiled that tiny smile of his, one corner of his mouth softening infinitesimally, and vanished, his job done for the moment.
Perhaps she should have been surprised or disappointed by her lover’s absence. But while she would certainly have been up for more, she had pushed him far enough for one day. So she’d smiled a wistful little smile and let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, and spent a few moments daydreaming and remembering his touch and the weight of his body and the fire that had lit his amber eyes. And then she’d risen to her feet and set off on another wander.
Wandering and pondering, that’s exactly what Revol is up to tonight as well. She lets the gentle caress of moonlight on her face sweep her away again until the world around her barely exists. And if perhaps she is imagining a much more tangible caress, well no one needs to know about that, now do they? A smile plays at the edge of her lips as she walks, managing through years of practice to avoid bumping into trees at least. Though she certainly makes no promises about her ability to dodge if she happens to stumble across a certain not-so-stranger.
Moonlight glittered and danced across his damp coat, slick with a sheen of sweat. There was a new sort of wildness in his eyes as his mind constantly brought up the image of brilliant blue gems set with a jeweler's fine touch in a bed of silver. Everywhere he looked seemed to manifest into her features; a pond rimmed with silvery grasses was her alluring gaze, the whisper of the night wind was her sultry voice of seduction, the reddish dust of dawn on a knoll was her generous hip. Even far away from him the damned girl wouldn't leave him be.
He had himself to blame. In a moment of weakness, the beast in his mind had taken over. Were it any other female, she probably would have been damaged, harmed and taken advantage of. But no, instead of fighting it or fearing it, she'd welcomed it, returned his starving touch with a surprising eagerness. His face flushed at the memory. Damn her for consuming his mind. He could think of nothing without her looming presence on his thoughts, that wicked smile playing at her delicious lips. He groaned inwardly.
Damnit.
And like a monk fasting so long then gifted with a sweet treat, his body craved her with intense hunger, realizing with painful clarity the gaping lack in his life. He needed more. Her, or maybe anyone. He'd gone so long without, that the lack of intimacy was unnoticed and normal. Now that he'd been sated, his entire being ached to feed again. His mouth dried and opened slightly, like a prideful lion-king easing into a swift lope with wide, hungry eyes. Hunting.
He no longer saw the image of his daughter, now he only saw her. With such clarity, he could even smell her again, the spicy tang of the firey woman making his mouth water. It teased him incessantly, agitated his senses til he was wild once again.
The monster in his mind had always been a separate being, tucked away, or let loose with dangerous freedom. With deep frustration his feral eyes were proof of a change taking place, the beast slowly melding with the man. Far too much intelligence remained glinting in the liquid gold gaze for him to believe he was not becoming this sick creature. Whatever she'd done to cause this, he desperately wished he could make her undo it.
Her haunting image was everywhere, and then with a rough shove and a surprised yelp he tagged her hard, colliding with what he'd thought was only his hallucination toying with him again. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder at the impact, further damning proof that she was a solid being and physically here.
He cursed, and retreated a few steps with a hard glare. The beast delighted in their reunion, but they were becoming one and the same and he held a better control over it. Barely. Get the hell away from me, he spat, eyes glittering with malice.
His whole body seemed to cry mutiny and leaned toward her magnetic pull, wanting nothing more than to feast on her again. Or maybe any woman. He locked his gaze to her face and refused to let himself peruse her luscious curves as he seemed to want to do, already knowing full well what intoxicating delights lay there waiting for him. He would master this damn beast if it killed him.
This time the crash isn’t Revol’s fault. The impact is great enough to make her stumble, though not enough to make her fall. She turns around, blue eyes focusing on the physical world instead of the sexy stranger in her mind, and oh but isn’t she just delighted to find the very same stranger standing just a few steps away and glaring that delightful glare of his, amber eyes hard and heated and delicious as they bore into hers.
“Well, honey,” she purrs, a grin flirting with the corners of her lips, “I hate to point out the obvious, but you ran into me this time.” And what a lovely change of pace it’s turning out to be, too, even if he’s on the edge of full on growling mode again. Ooh, or maybe because of it. Mmm, that sound might just be one of her favorites, rumbling through his chest and echoing into hers, making her insides gloriously melty.
Her eyelids go heavy with hunger as she idly wonders just what it would take to set him growling again. Not much, I bet. He may be stubbornly fighting the urge to let his eyes wander her body, but she’s doing no such thing. Her gaze lingers on the hard line of his jaw, the smooth planes of muscle along his neck, his chest, his shoulders. The curve of his ribcage, the sleek line of his back, flowing into his hip, down his flank, meandering along his belly and back up his shoulder, his throat. And everywhere she looks, she lets herself imagine touching, feeling the strength of those muscles, the heat of him pressed against her.
Her grin takes on a sultry edge as she murmurs, “Sure you want me to leave? I’ll do it if you want. And I promise to walk away reeeeal slowly. Just for you.” And of course she can’t quite resist throwing in a saucy wink. She’ll be sure to put a little extra sway in her step if she does, too. Pause to glance over her shoulder, give him a minute to change his mind. Ah, but for now she just waits, fire in her eyes as she stares into his.
His body tensed as her eyes raked across him, his skin nearly prickling with anticipation. Every fiber of his being tilted forward anxiously, eager for more. With every passing moment, she made it harder to remember he wasn't the beast anymore, because every current thought flying across his mind was very much animalistic.
Slowly, his lids closed, shuttering the mindless passion she purposefully provoked. Her sensual voice stoked the fires within him. He hated that she had this power over him, and like a snake hypnotized by its master's movements, he danced to her tune. Why did she choose to do this to him? She had to know it was meaningless. Why did that fester and eat at his soul, and yet seem like it was exactly what she wanted?
And why wasn't he stopping himself?
"Sure you want me to leave?" she taunted in that molten liquid tone. "I'll do it if you want. And I promise to walk away reeeeal slowly. Just for you.”
Closing his eyes was a big mistake. With blindingly vivid imagery he knew exactly what she promised in that retreat. A low groan rumbled at his throat. Where was all that control he swore he'd hold on to? Gravity seemed to go a-kilter as he swayed on his feet, his nose pressed into warmth. Damn. When had he walked over? But he must have, because her smell engulfed his senses and he pressed his nose and cheek harder against her jaw with a shaky breath.
So slowly, he angled his head just a little, biting into the soft tissue behind her cheekbone. A new sort of power filled him with that choice of action, his eyes flashing open. He paired the beast's desires with the man's purpose, taunting her as she had taunted him. A cruel and wonderful revenge, wasn't it?
He breathed a hot breath on her throat, stepping in with such purposefully aching slowness. She wanted to unleash the monster again, did she? She liked that dark side so much? A wicked grin tipped his lips as he thought: how does she like it now with the man in charge?
Oh, it’s so fun to push his buttons. To nudge him just a little too far, to coax with her eyes and her voice and her body until he gives into what he’s been wanting from the moment he bumped into her. He closes his eyes, Revol’s handsome stranger, and groans low in his throat as she offers to walk away slowly and give him something to look at. Mmm, and that sound is even better than his growl, or at least just as good.
Then he’s suddenly beside her, touching her, velvet soft nose against her jaw, breathing hard, on the edge of losing control again. She melts into that touch, drawing in a gasping breath as he bites down on her cheek. Didn’t take much, did it? And thank all that’s holy for that. His breath on her skin, the way he steps so slowly into her, has her arching her back and pressing her body against his. His isn’t the only breath coming faster; his isn’t the only heart racing.
He grins, his mouth curving against her skin, and she trails her own down the side of his neck, nipping as she goes, sharp little bites chased by the feather-light brush of her lips. He feels different somehow this time, though she can’t quite pin it down. Less feral, and though she’d loved his raw passion, something in his eyes this time makes her shiver with anticipation. His every touch is slow, deliberate, delicious, sparking a fire to life in her belly. And she can hardly wait to burn.
“Does that mean I should stay then?” she purrs against his shoulder. “And are you ever gonna tell me your name, or are you growing a little too fond of honey to part with it?” He can keep his name a secret for as long as he wants. She’s got no objection to moaning or crying out a term of endearment instead. But it can’t hurt to ask.
Her quiet gasp, a sweet sigh of pleasure, lit through him. It sparked his blood with electricity, coarse hair standing on end. Every sensation was intensified, every minor movement snatching his gaze. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears, and yet every sound she made seemed magnified and perfect.
Her body responded to his taunting bite, pushing up against him. His skin, made hyper-sensitive by this heated encounter, ignited at every hair she touched like a million needle-pricks. But it was ecstasy, not pain, that was injected into him, and like a craving addict he reached for more. His lips trailed slow kisses down her neck, light and teasing.
The breath of her voice dispersed through his coat at his shoulder, like a sultry smoke; intangible and intoxicating. He didn't care what she said, almost didn't even listen at all, lost in a sensual delirium he was not inclined to leave. She stoked a wild passion in him he didn't even remember having with his mate. He felt a little guilt at that, but it was consumed in his blissful hunger for this seductive stranger. Nothing else seemed to exist in this moment.
With pain-staking care, he trailed down her back as she continued to talk, sweeping his velvet faintly against her spine and disturbing her perfect coat. He watched intently for her responses, letting every sway and sigh fuel him to take more from her. His body ached to possess hers -again, and it took all his control to keep it reined in. She needed this torture. He wouldn't be done til she begged for it.
Anger was dimmed, but it was there. He'd resented his fraying mind snapping so easily at her silent command and bringing forth that darker side of him, the one he wished didn't exist. She'd swept in and taken control of that carefully bridled beast and gave him his head to run. And then she was the one ridden. His honorable heart quaked with disgust that he'd responded so eagerly for a stranger and not a true mate. And it was her fault, this delicious seductress, tempting him with her divinely erotic beauty and fiery challenges.
So, he'd melded that feral monster within him and formed this new one, cruel and passionate and calculating. This would be her punishment, as he'd deliberately feed her, slow and tantalizing, until she became the beast between them; wild and demanding what she wanted, what she needed from him. Let her see how it feels to be taken over by something uncontrollable and dangerous.
Her latter question gradually filtered through a dense fog of carnal haze, once again inquiring his name. His mind hesitated and cleared just a little, but he maintained his treatments with a lover's touch, inching further down her spine. He lipped sweetly at her luscious hip, the edges of his teeth just barely scraping against her skin. With aggravating leisure he was making his way closer and closer to the wonderful place his body knew hers most intimately.
He paused his progress with a lazy caress, his lips to the top of her rump. Why do you want my name, little one, he asked blandly, his amber eyes clear as he watched her from his delicate position, so near what they both desired. I am no one to you, you are no one to me. A name would not change that.
Actually, it would, for him, which is why he held it so tightly from her, a last lifeline to reality. Without hearing his name on her voice, he might still be able to put these disgracing actions behind him. What they did together was meant for a real couple, a loving match of faithful partners; not a tryst of complete strangers. It was not at all honorable, and he didn't want to face the self-disgust after he left her side one last time. Giving his name would make this far too real, and he'd much rather keep it a deliriously enticing dream.
Every touch just feeds the fire slowly building inside Revol, coaxing heated sighs and humming, drawn-out moans from her throat. She trails teasing bites along his skin, turning the heat of that flame back on him as it burns hotter and brighter. It would be fraying at the edges of her control, but she’s never been much for trying to exert control over herself, and especially not where her handsome stranger is concerned.
No, she eagerly loses herself in his touch, in the slow brush of his lips along her skin, his teeth exerting the gentlest pressure, not even the little nips she’s giving him to goad him on, just this delicate abrasion that drives her wild, sets her nerve endings alight, makes her crave more of his touch. She urges him on, putting a little more force behind her own teeth, encouraging him to give her more, to play a little dirtier, to make it hurt just a little. God, the way he lost control last time, more of that would be...mmm…
He’s got her on the verge of whimpering, hungry and desperate and aching for more of him, when his words wash over her like an icy wave. She pauses, drawing back to look at him, surprised by the pang in her chest and the way it makes her want to pull away, to shrink back, to retreat from the heat of his touch. She searches his amber eyes, her expression thoughtful.
“You’re wrong,” she finally murmurs, shaking her head. “You’re not no one to me. No matter who I am to you.” And she steps into him, trailing her lips along his shoulder, so much more gently. No teeth, no raging inferno, just soft touches in the moonlight. “I suppose I can see why you’d think so,” she continues, rubbing her cheek against the hard plane of muscle, brushing her muzzle against his side, pressing her lips against the curve of his ribs, oh and that lovely spot just below and behind his withers.
“But I assure you, honey, whether I know your name or not, you are very much someone to me.”
Just as she's nearly ready, quaking in her need for him and eager to buck, his words released her and chilled her. Hurt glimmers faintly in her eyes as she shifts slightly away to better face him, her gaze searching his. He held still, his face a careful mask, instantly feeling the gaping loss of her body pressed to his. If he faltered at all, she'd see through the bluff.
What was this to her? Didn't she want a nice romp around, and then her freedom again?
Had he wounded her pride by putting it plainly in words before them?
"You're wrong," she said softly after a time. "You're not no one to me. No matter who I am to you." His heart swelled at her words, selfishly reveling in her under-handed approval of him, basking in the idea that maybe he mattered at least a little to someone again. A tickling sense of danger teased at him, though.
She stepped back into him, without heat this time, lightly stamping him with sweet kisses. He hummed with pleasure, readily accepting her gentle affection. But without their roaring passion, its meaning was graver, an all-too serious gift that tugged at his deeply-buried honor.
"I suppose I can see why you'd think so," she continued, her perfectly sculpted face brushing across his muscle, then trailing more feathery kisses along his side and shoulder. He watched her closely, hunger still in his eyes like the soft glow of embers. "But I assure you, honey, whether I know your name or not, you are very much someone to me."
His chest tightened as he finally realized exactly what was grasping at his mind. Body stiff, he extracted himself out of her embrace warily.
Did she want a mate in him? No, she couldn't possibly. They were still strangers yet, weren't they? She didn't know him, didn't even know his name -though not for lack of trying, he thought grudgingly. There was more to the word "mate" to him. It was not just a bodily pairing, as they'd already done. It was a marriage of souls, a match of loyalty and compassion for none but that one other. Could he really do that again? He wasn't sure, couldn't think through this stabbing shard of fear impaling his mind. If he mated again, he'd be hurt again. So much pain.
"You taunt me," he blamed coldly, sliding safely into the cruel mask of the monster. She knew what his heart ached for and molded her words and manner to fit him, manipulating him to her own joys. Or perhaps she was just young. Yes, too naive to understand the lack of meaning behind their actions. He should have known, should have been the adult in this, mindful of the path they were taking.
He sighed and his shoulders slumped, head bowing. He'd done this. His thoughts finally cleared up just how disgraceful he'd been. All along he should have been aware of how this would look to her, so very young and inexperienced in the world. Their lustful pairing could have been taken as some sort of love-making to a girl. He was the senior, he should have made more clear that it meant nothing. Only a man's body taking a woman's as it naturally urged to.
It all fell back to that damned beast in his mind, uncontrollable and unwittingly encouraged by her sexual prompting. She probably never meant to do it, compel him without any fondness or commitment.
"We are not together," he said gently, his pained eyes lifting to meet her gaze. If she was so meaningless, why was this hurting so much, his own mind taunted cruelly as he carved and wheedled a hole in his own heart. "We are not mates," he added a little more firmly. "I will never mate again." Bitter determination glinted in his hard eyes. He'd never be hurt again. He should just return to his forests of isolation and never come out again.
Revol’s words set her handsome stranger to pulling away, disentangling himself from her embrace and eying her warily, his voice cold at first and then heavy with resignation and gentle rejection. And she tilts her head, blue eyes puzzled as she looks him over, studies the weight of his shoulders, the pain and determination in his eyes.
“Honey,” she says again, and her voice is just as gentle, just as careful, though not laden with his same guilt and self-recrimination. “Who ever said anything about mates? I barely know you. I don’t even know your name. I’m not trying to swear my life to you or bind you to me. Just because you’re not my mate doesn’t mean you’re no one. I can feel affection for you without being in love with you; I can enjoy your touch and your warmth and your passion without needing you to be mine alone forever.”
She steps closer, reaching out to brush her lips against his cheek. “You wanted to touch me. I wanted to touch you. That’s not something that happens to me very often.” Or ever, really, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially not right now. “I’ve got no expectations of you, nor any claim on you. But I think it’s safe enough to call you my lover, given how events unfolded last time we met. And you’re welcome to continue being exactly that if you want to. Or not, if you don’t.” And if the idea makes her heart ache, well that’s not on him now is it? And it needn’t be.
“We have good chemistry,” she adds, her eyelids drifting to half-closed as she remembers just how it had been, imagines how it could be again. “And I like you.” She smiles and meets his amber eyes, warmth lighting her own eyes and setting the blue to dancing just a bit. “You make me smile, and you make me…mmm…” Whoops, and perhaps her expression gets just a bit sultry there as she trails off and lets the memory of his touch rekindle the fire in her blood.
“I know we’re not together, honey,” she purrs, trying to stay focused on the conversation instead of telling him he’s talking too damn much and rubbing against him and encouraging him to go back to touching her instead. “Doesn’t mean this is nothing.”
"Doesn't mean this is nothing."
But it is nothing. She didn't understand. It was black and white for him, no gray area. There was no lover without the mate. There were no fleeting trysts for the fun of it, although that was excatly what had happened. The mad beast took over, that was all, it was not him. It was not something he would have done had he been in his right mind. He couldn't do this again.
He still felt her sweet touch on his cheek as she'd spoken to him, stating clearly that she had no expectations of him, no hopes or desires for any kind of commitment. Only fun and games. To any other stallion, this would have been reassuring; freeing, even. What man didn't want such an enticing treat he could do as he pleased with, whenever he wanted, and not be required to dote on her every word or act on her every whim to keep her happy. Or even expected to have her as the only one he took beneath him in wild passion?
Perhaps it was his father in him that made him turn away in disgust at the offer. The bastard had turned away from his own son, his first-born even, for the sole fact he had not been conceived by his wife, the queen. Ainlif was a product of just such a loveless tryst, though his fierce mother had not allowed him to speak so harshly about his sire.
With his past coming back to light, his resolve hardened. She was mind-blowingly delicious, even looking at her made his blood run hot, but he could not condemn a child to despise him as their father, as he did his. He would be a good father the next time... and he'd sure as hell not let the child be murdered as little Kinley had been.
Anguishing pain lanced through him. His baby girl.. Damn it, what had he become? Moisture threatened his eyes and again he pulled out of her reach.
"This is done," his words fell like a cold anvil on his heart, glaring at the ground to hide the pain of his past and the pain of this moment. I won't play your games anymore.
"Leave or stay. I'm done running from you. It only lands me back in your arms, anyway." He muttered some nonsense about "cruel fate" under his breath as he walked a few paces away, lowering himself heavily to the ground and sprawling out carelessly. His eyes settled on a specific knot in a tree close by, unseeing in mind-numbing sorrow.
