i live for the taste of his blood on my lips

Wayne McCoy · 04-21-2012, 05:36 PM

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but our hearts will need us to be steady and strong

so we can stand and face the fire

burning higher and higher

Word Count → 374 :: I don't give a fig about length. <3 Also, should probably M tag this, haha.

Wayne was not a fighter, or at least he hadn’t been until he’d crushed the throat of the raider who’d dare to hurt Dixie-May. It did not take much for him to flash back to that night, his teeth puncturing the fool’s windpipe, crunching it with a hollow sound, the metallic taste of blood hot and heavy in his mouth. His shoulder throbbed at the thought each time from where it’d been struck by the blunt bat, but he had managed to distance himself enough from that kill that it didn’t bother him. He had done what was needed to defend Casa di Cavalieri and its herd and his woman, and he would kill a hundred men if he needed to.

It was that memory, that and some of the darkness that’d crept into him as of late, that kept him from wheeling the horse around at the madness in the wolf woman’s eyes and fleeing from the scene of the deer’s death. It would have been safer to do so, but he only held the other’s gaze as she stepped forward, steps stiff and threatening and dominant. Her bared, bloodstained teeth were warning enough.

She snarled an accusation at him, and his ears flattened as he wondered what this crazed bitch meant—but then she finished, and his hands clenched in the mane of the mare. Fern’s ears flicked back as the whites of her eyes showed, and she took a step backwards. Her rider drew himself up, however, sitting tall on the large horse, and growled down at the black wolf, a dark lip curled to bare a single fang unyellowed by age.

“Like hell I will,” Wayne McCoy replied, his voice level despite the rumbling in his throat and the violence etched in his stony face. All of the anger he had felt lately rolled out of him, the dam breaking at last. “Eat your fuckin’ deer, woman, an’ we’ll leave each other alone.” Even with nasty words exiting his now-clenched jaw, he knew better than to threaten with true violence. He wanted her to take her dirty eyes off his horse, sweet Fern who hadn’t hurt anyone and only trusted the luperci she met, and he wanted to go home.

Wayne McCoy

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