[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ppachi.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> When do you want to set this? It doesn't matter much to me.
Onus returned to the small apartment he called "home" after a rigorous work out. It was getting warmer out and when he engaged in such activities he chose to leave all his trappings behind. Except of course his eye wrap. He never went anywhere without that. As he walked through the door he rotated his left arm in big circles, stretching out the healed muscles. They were better, but still they protested at times. The large scar at the juncture of his shoulder and neck was laid bare, he doubted fur would ever grow there again. His jaw felt better today, but his ribs and abdomen were throbbing a little from his exercise. Beneath the short hair he knew his skin was bruised deeply. He was probably lucky that no ribs had been cracked or broken.
The coyote moved from the entryway to go stretch out on his bed. It was a small apartment, efficiency he believed the humans had called it. It suited him well though. He needed no great space. Only a place to sleep and rest and keep his belongings, what few there were. As he laid down the thoughts he had been doing his best to keep at bay all day flooded his defenses. His last visit to Dahlia de Mai plagued the vigilante's mind. Even now he could feel her forcing him against the tree and the tip of her sword hovering over his neck. Why had she done that? Why had she felt the need to act towards him with such hostility? If he had attacked the wretched scum that commanded her then her reaction would have been more understandable. But nothing of the sort had happened. Still she had used force against him.
That was not all. The last words that Haku had called out rang through his mind like endless demonic bells. By the way, Retribution, you sure have a good taste in females, she’s a rather lovely one, isn’t she? Magnificent in every way. Onus ground his teeth. It was obvious what the bastard had meant. He wasn't the jealous type, but the thought of Cwmfen sleeping with that piece of trash made his stomach turn. With a soft growl he turned over on his side to face the wall. Maybe if he tried to sleep all the incessant clangor of his mind would cease.
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Present time is fine with me, ^=^ That way she can return home and see what Corvus did, OoO
700+
She had not seen Onus since that day he had strode out of her packlands. The woman had not scented him. She had not heard anything from him. But that was not unusual. It had been understood that the two lovers would see each other only when time allowed, when the requirements of their responsibilities did not conflict. And yet, the woad warrior had felt his absence in a different manner. The manner in which he had left still rose clearly in her mind—her sword, that frown. Early that day the woman had risen, taking her sword with her. But she had not practiced with the packlands as she was accustom to doing. Instead, she had moved without, practicing the silent traveling of warriors as she held that sword in the half-light, listening to its hummed song. Her mind wandered over that day—perhaps that physical display had been misplaced. The silence of Haku was not as disturbing to the woman as the departure of the coyote, and she worked through that memory now through the practice with her blade. Badb did not protest, placidly carving the air to the wielder’s will.
Where she had carefully avoided approaching the city, she now found herself within its perimeters. Her movements paused as her gaze lifted, considering the skeletal edifices that rose in silence before her. The blade’s point was lowered as she watched the sunlight play against those unnatural shells that stood sentinel. Then, without a sound, the woman passed into their midst without a challenge. Cwmfen did not know where she was going, but she followed the road, listening to the whisper of the trees that now grew amidst the concrete. Her white gaze fell to watch the path ahead of her. There was a tree there before her. It was not a remarkable tree—it was indiscernible from the others. But she approached it, placing her hand upon the trunk as her eyes went from the limbs above to the path behind it. Then she knelt, and taking the blade she plunged it into the earth that was lain bare by the roots, pushing it down as near to the hilt as she could get it—a cleansing ritual. With quiet gratitude to the tree, the woman rose and stepped toward the path behind it. And the wind brought a familiar scent.
Onus.
The woman paused once more as if hesitating. Her ears lifted as if listening to some distant sound, and, as if compelled, the woman walked slowly. The scent trail was still fresh and she was almost intimidated by it. Nonetheless, the woman could not ignore the ‘coincidence’ of happening upon him. And so, compelled, the woman continued. The trail took her to a strange building that somehow differed from the rest. For a moment, she struggled with how to get in, then with the stairs for the unfamiliarity of this world. The black fae wondered what this was—there were many doors, so many that it might have been the manifestation of some strange Dream. But then the path turned from the stairs, and she found one open door among several—the scent led her there. His scent was strong here, marking the place, filling the air. She hesitated once more upon the threshold before she walked in, her fluid steps silent. Those white eyes scanned the room. She started, one of the very rare occasions upon which such a thing happened. He was upon the bed, turned away from her, and it was his presence within the room that caused such a reaction, perhaps even a sound—a caught breath, a sudden movement upon the floor. It was as if she had not expected to find him. The warrior wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. The warrior wanted to do something, but she didn’t know what to do. She felt that she could not call him or approach him, as if she had revoked that right.
Finally, she took several steps forward until she had approached the bed’s edge. She was tentative, her gaze gentle and shy as she watched him in the silence. Her heart fluttered within her. With the proximity, she could sense that he was troubled, brooding. Her eyes passed over the wound upon his shoulder, growling terribly at her. Her hand reached out as if to touch it, but she pulled back, uncertain once more. And yet, she still could not call her voice as she stood there simply watching.
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[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ppachi.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Sounds good ^^ Bah, he's laying on his side not his stomach, I fixed it XD
No matter how he tried to force his mind into sleep it would not come. It seemed his thoughts raged even louder with every attempt he made to silence them. Whenever he closed his eyes the image of her face holding her blade against him came to him with Haku grinning in the background. So satisfied with himself. He wanted to wipe that grin off his face with his hands around the brute's throat, watching as he slowly suffocated. The coyote should have killed him that day. It would have been easy enough. He had knocked him unconscious. It probably would have been one of the easiest he had ever made. No one would have known who had done it either. He had been new to the lands and Haku had no shortage of enemies. It would have been so simple. The world would have been a better place and he would not be haunted so now.
Despite not being able to sleep he stayed on his bed, unmoving. He didn't have the energy to do anything else right now. He had worked his body hard this morning. He probably shouldn't have been quite so thorough in his training today. While his injuries were superficial, they still needed time to heal. Subconsciously he had been trying to work these thoughts and concerns from his mind. That was futile and he should have known it. Now all his muscles burned with lactic acid, the injured ones worst of all. It wasn't the accomplished, contented pain that such things usually brought him. It only seemed to add to his unrest, making it all more maddening than it already was.
Onus' ears flicked as he heard someone stumbling around in the main staircase of the building. In all his time staying here he had never heard anyone else bother to venture up the steps. He had found that most luperci in places like this that did not inhabit cities usually didn't head up tall buildings, which was precisely why he chose a higher up apartment. He listened closely to the sounds of the intruder, his body invisibly preparing itself for a conflict. He heard them walking down the hallway and then pausing at the door. Ever so slowly the scent of them came to his nose. Cwmfen? Honestly he was surprised that she had come to search him out. He heard her startle as she entered the room. That surprised him even more. She wasn't the type to be surprised in such a way.
Then she approached the bed, but he made no move to display that he was not indeed asleep. He just waited. Though when she came so close he found his body yearning for her. It wanted to take her into his arms and hold her close and just forget everything that had transpired last time. But that could not happen. His mind would not allow that to happen. He waited a few more unbearably silent moments before he decided to speak. "Did he send you to kill me? I wouldn't put it past someone like him." He did a good job of keeping most of the emotion from his voice, but even then some of it managed to leak through.
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^=^
500+
It was the man that broke the silence, without moving, without turning to acknowledge her. But the woman was not startled by the suddenness of that gruff voice, as if she had felt the accumulation of those words in previous silence. She had heard something in his voice, something that struck a dark chord within her, something that, for some reason, made her nervous. And the black fae did not respond immediately, allowing the silence to follow as if she required the time. His words were unkind, discourteous to her code of honor—did he not know how she felt about him? It was like nothing she had ever felt before.... And, with the power of those words, the Dahlian warrior considered the possibility that words could be as equally potent as action. Perhaps she could have simply told him to leave—that would have been enough. But would it have been enough for Haku? She knew the tendencies of the male, and recently she knew that something was different. She had not wanted conflict to arise between the Lilium and the masked vigilante; such a thing would warrant her intervention. And in the end, her own matters were insignificant to the matters of the pack. She could suffer an intangible wound for the pack she served. She had forgotten to consider in her careful calculations the wounding of someone very important to her, and she suffered more intensely for it now.
"No," the woman replied evenly at length, that melody quiet even in the silence. "I came of my own accord." She said it as if she had planned this encounter, but, while her heart may have drawn her here, her presence in that room was a simple result of spontaneity. It was one, she admitted to herself, that she was glad of, despite her anxiety. The woad marked woman fell silent once more as she watched the back of his form, her gaze lingering once more upon that wound. Every time, she felt that she held some of the blame for that great scar, and every time, she was thankful that it had not crippled him. The white orbs lifted, finding where his eyes would be turned away from her. "But I could never kill you." Could. Her words implied, not that she would not be compelled, but that she did not have the ability to do such a thing. That was not what I meant to display, she thought silently, unable to voice it aloud.
Cwmfen remained where she was, unmoving as she watched him. There was a quiet pleasure in the simple watching of a loved one.... But she wished that he would not keep his back to her. Even if he were not accepting her presence, she wished that she could see his face. She wished that he would not keep her at a distance. But perhaps she should have let him go. At least he would not have been hurt by her—or perhaps he was not? Perhaps he was simply angered, and perhaps he would tell her to leave. She had told him that she did not want to get in his way, and he had said that it would it would be easy to avoid. And yet, she felt that somehow it had not been avoided at all. The woman wanted to sigh with frustration, though not with him. He had done nothing wrong.... Finally, the black fae broke the silence once more, attempting to say something, and yet finding that she could not: "Onus, I—"
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He didn't actually think that she had been sent there to do away with him. It was a possibility, he knew, but he didn't believe that was why she was here now. Or maybe he just didn't want to believe that. Though if Haku decided to try that, to convince her that it was necessary for the safety of her pack, then the madman had a tool against him that no other had ever held. For he would not be able to bring himself to attack her. Not only did he not attack those that had committed no crime, but he loved her. Even now, even after she had hurt him, he knew that he would not be able to harm her. Defending himself was one thing, blocking blows and moving out of harm's way, that he could do. But never would he be able to make his claws mar her beautiful form. He had squeezed the life from many, but he would never be able to from her. If she did come after him one day, it could very well be the end of him.
Her words confirmed that she had been sent here for no such purpose, that she had come here of her own will. The coyote could almost feel her eyes upon his scar and he wondered what she was thinking. They were both lucky that the wound had not been something that would have crippled him for life, for if that would have been the case instead of having her take him to help he would have asked her to end it. If he could no longer serve his purpose then he was useless. He did not want to live that kind of life. It would have been merciful to end his life if that had been the case. But it hadn't, and now here they stood, having come so far and yet now it seemed things hung by the smallest string, waiting to crash and shatter against the ground like glass. She could never kill him? "That is good for me, for I could do you no harm." His words were softer than they had been, but still he kept his back turned to her. His walls were crumbling quickly though.
The man waited in the silence that hung in the air between them. He could feel his heart begin to ache with the rest of his muscles. He should have known better than to chance going onto Dahlia's lands. Even if he hadn't told her exactly what had happened to at least have told her that problems could arise from his presence there. But he could never have imagined that that encounter would have ended the way it did. He had never guessed that she would respond so fiercely when the situation did not call for it. As her voice broke off he turned his torso to look up at her. "You could have just told me to leave. I would have, not for him, but for you. So we could have avoided something like that." To the untrained ear his voice did not sound much different, but really his words rang with the pain that had been planted inside him from the moment her sword had been pointed towards him.
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500+
The male was unmoving as he replied. The woad bound ears moved forward as if to catch a sound that evaded her. The eyes that watched him were quiet, and yet they were almost sad. The black fae was silent, responding with nothing. And she believed him; he would not lie to her, or to anyone for that matter. This male simply did not have a need to, this man of near absolutes. Those eyes lifted slightly, imperceptibly in the silence. Each uttered word seemed to be a step taken carefully toward one another. Or were they going about, circling each other as two do when they engage in battle? The silence was deafening—she was afraid that she would miss something important, drowned out by her own mind. Her knees brushed against the bed as she shifted in the silence, that single movement causing a subtle, imperceptible sound that exploded in her ears. Her heart was beating, thundering in her ears. And as the moments drew by, it was as if her senses were spiraling out of control. But the woman stilled herself and was still, even as she struggled through the white noise. There was still some control yet within her.
Finally, he turned to look at her. The black fae straitened slightly as he did so, the white eyes tentatively crossing the features of his face. When he spoke, his voice silenced the din that rang in her mind, and suddenly she could think clearly. Her gaze fell to his eyes hidden beneath that cloth, his words wrenching at her soul. But she was silent for a moment longer. She wanted to tell him why. She wanted to tell him that she had taken action because that was all that she knew. She wanted to tell him that she had done what she had because she wished to avoid further conflict, that perhaps what she had done would keep the two males from facing conflict that did not need to be made. And yet, as she thought it through over and over, it all seemed so foolish, so futile. With a soft sigh, her gaze fell to an empty spot upon the sheets. Perhaps, she thought at length, it would be better to speak than to be silent. "I believed," the woman began, her voice quiet and her words spoken with care, "that such action would keep possible confliction between you and Haku, and between you and myself, at bay." Her gaze lifted to search his face once more. "But it seems as if such action had been foolish, that what I sought to avoid was only met directly." And the woman was tired of running.
At least she had admitted to her fault now, at least that was out of the way. There was another length of silence in which she simply watched him in a way as if this would be her last time. "Forgive me, Onus," the soft melody continued, breathing it into the quiet air. It was not spoken as a plea. She did not beg it of him. She said it because she regretted. She regretted that she had hurt him, that she had caused him pain. She had not wished such a thing upon him, and she never would. And she was not arrogant; she could learn from her mistakes. A wry smile crossed her maw as she looked down, closing her eyes briefly as she shook her head. "I am not perfect," the soft melody admitted, "And I failed to foresee the consequences of my actions." As if this were a military matter.
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As he looked at her he watched her face. He could almost see the thoughts that raced behind those peerless eyes. Looking at her made the aching in his heart worse and made the small distance between them feel even more wrong. He wanted to touch her fur, to press his nose against her and fill his head with her sweet scent, to feel her body against his once again. But still he couldn't, not yet. Not until they had resolved this matter that had driven that space between them. For all his strength, when it came to matters between the two of them he felt fragile. He felt like that child from so long ago who's spirit had been crushed as his mother's jaws had torn at his body. As the silence persisted his heart beat heavily and pounded in his ears like a drum.
Finally she broke the silence and he listened to her carefully chosen words. So she had not intended for this to happen. Perhaps she just did not understand that words could be just as powerful as actions. That she didn't necessarily know when to differentiate when actions would work against her when words were the right course. "Sometimes words are a better course. Especially in delicate matters. I had caused no threat to him or your pack that day and so did not understand why you acted as if I had." If she was willing to explain her thought process, then he should give her insight into his as well. "As for Haku, I will not search him out nor did I intend to after our first encounter. However if he comes after me I will not back down. Not only is he a criminal, but he has violated me." Not in any sexual manner, but to him it had been a severe violation. "He removed my cloth. To do such is a grave offense to me." Others might not understand, but he hoped that she would.
Then she asked for his forgiveness. Once again she told him that she was not perfect, as she had on their first night together. Onus could not stand the distance between them anymore and he reached for one of her hands, his thumb rubbing the fur on the back of her hand. She had hurt him yes, but she had not meant it. He could see that she was truly sorry and had not realized how her actions would effect him. "I forgive you Cwmfen." He motioned that she could join him on the bed. His body still ached and he did not feel like getting up. "I have always known you were not perfect and will never hold that against you. I am imperfect as well." Now that they were on good terms again he felt a weariness take over him. For days he had been tense and now that tension was released. But with the weariness there was also a calm, his heart gladdened that they had not been torn apart.
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Man, I have got to be the slowest writer in the world, OnO
500+
That wry smile faded as he spoke, a quiet nod imperceptibly given. She understood his words quite well now. He had several more years of experience than she did, and she trusted that he spoke with wisdom. But even with the understanding that words could prove more appropriate, it would still take time for her to adjust. Much of her life had been lived in silence, especially when she had crossed the lands of ice to get here, and it was difficult for a wild creature to unlearn something that had been introduced in childhood. When he spoke of Haku, she was not troubled. As warrior, she was a protector of the pack, but she was not Haku’s protector—she doubted that he would accept help even if he required it. And Onus said that he would not go after Haku unless Haku openly pursued him. In such a case, the coyote’s actions could be seen as ‘self-defense’, and her need to confront him through pack matters would be unnecessary. The harsh smile upon her lips softened. The woman wanted to laugh—perhaps there had been nothing for her to fear. Upon a more serious note, the woman reminded herself that fear and fear of loss were dangerous. She had taken a step that could have lead in the wrong direction, but Onus had pulled her out.
While Cwmfen was silent, she understood well the violation of which he spoke. She remembered upon their first encounter many moons ago when he had told her that the cloth was more fitting than what lay beneath, and that he had stopped her from removing it. She remembered also her own reaction and could imagine the reactions of others. And even if she did not have such memories, she would have understood, though in a vaguer sense. To remove his cloth would be a great show of disrespect, and disrespect was a thing that the black fae did not tolerate. And it was with that thought that the woman realized truly what disrespect she had given him.
Then he forgave her, reaching out to her and taking her hand in his. And this time he did not release her, did not recoil. A soft smile graced her maw as she met his gaze, though that smile held a darker hue than most she gave. Her hand tightened about his, as if afraid he might leave again. She didn’t want that distance to be driven between them anymore. The black fae moved to join him, finding that she was now able to, moving to lie beside him, loving him an all of his imperfections. Her woad bound maw pressed into his neck, breathing in his unique scent as she closed her eyes as she released her breath with relief. She was relieved that he had not pushed her away, for she did believe that such a thing would not be endured easily. The hand that he held slid along his upper arm as the other came to rest at the base of his neck, the tips of her fingers brushing against his wound. "I love you, Onus," she breathed into him, breaking her own silence, "and nothing will change that." Not even death. Her maw came up to kiss him, a gentle kiss that was given tentatively as if she were afraid that he would not kiss her back. But all of her passions, her sorrows, were given to him in that single kiss. The hand at his neck moved down to his chest until she gripped the side of his torso beneath his ribs. There was a great tension within his muscles, moreso than usual. The woman broke the kiss, looking at him with concern. "Why are you so tense?"
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[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ppachi.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> It doesn't matter, cause your posts are always beautiful :3
Although she was silent, he saw that she understood his words and this subject of her leader would not come between them again. He would not seek that man out, as he had said, and would stay out of Dahlia's lands to avoid any further confrontations about that. But if Haku chose to come after him than the man abandoned all rights of protections that Cwmfen's loyalty granted him. If the wolf came after him then he was the aggressor and would deal with the consequences. Onus would not take it easy on the man. He would bleed, just as he had the last time. And he wouldn't be able to go hobbling back to Dahlia to tell her that he had been attacked, for she would know that it was a lie. He almost wished that the man would be so stupid. But he had bigger problems to worry about, such as Corvus.
As she squeezed his hand and smiled down at him, his lips returned it with his own slight smile. When she moved to lay down next to him he gave her ample room. The coyote's body flooded with warmth at having her lay beside him again. This was how they were supposed to be, before the brown brute had come and tried to drive a spike between them. But he had not succeeded, nor would he ever. A creature such as him could never understand the deep bond that they shared. He didn't have the capacity to. Feeling her nose pressed against his neck made him emit a low sound of content. Feeling her fingers brush his scar made a tingling sensation travel down his spine. His arm went to her back, holding her close. "I love you too Cwmfen. I never stopped." He had been hurt, but that did not mean that his feelings for this woman had ever changed. Not in the slightest. That was why he had treated her so delicately when he left after that confrontation. No matter what happened he would never be able to treat her any other way. He felt her lips touch his and he pushed gently into that kiss, accepting everything that she gave him and everything that she was and was not.
When her hand moved down his side and over where the bruising was he winced. She broke their kiss and those eyes found his gaze again, concern written on her beautiful face. Onus breathed deeply, not wishing to spoil the moment, but he couldn't keep it from her. "Before I came to you the other day, I fought him again." There would be no doubt who the "him" was. "He was trying to rape a young girl I know." But he had made it there in time before her innocence had been stolen from her. Or at least the innocence of her body. Whether or not he had succeeded in stealing that of her mind he could not say. She had been in bad shape afterwords. He only hoped that she would not let the event cripple her mentally.
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<3~
500+
The woman’s face lingered there, his scent comforting. A quiet golden laughter, muffled only marginally by his fur, sounded in response to that low sound as she felt his voice move through her. With her maw lingering over his, she whispered, "Don’t stop." Surely, if their love ever ceased to exist, the world would stop turning. The warrior was certain that she loved this man, that this love that she felt was eternal. It was with this that she had kissed him. And as he kissed her back, a warmth washed over her body and mind, and she closed her eyes, tasting the male and the nature of his own passions. The tips of her woad bound fingers pressed against his fur, feeling that well-trained sinew that wound about his form. His arm held her close, and she felt as if everything would be okay.
He had winced, causing her touch to withdraw its pressure. For a moment she lingered there, as if feeling for the intensity of those bruises. Then she moved that woad bound hand, her touch light as she looked into that cloth. There was a brief silence marred only be his deep breath, but she felt as if she knew what was coming. But that didn’t stop her from feeling the impact within her soul. His words made her stop, her heart shuddering as if a large stone had been dropped into the dark, tranquil waters of her soul. The white orbs watched him, and yet fear was only a small part of what passed through those eyes. There was anger and frustration as well. Perhaps there was even guilt. No other should have to suffer for her inability to act. Why had she done nothing still to stop his attacks? Her gaze lowered slightly in the silence. Something had to be done. And she knew that that something would arise from her own actions or from the actions of the one she loved.
The woman rose, sitting up with her back to him. He tried to rape a girl? The woad marked warrior shook her head imperceptibly. She knew that Corvus was not a sexual creature when compared to most males—what had been the purpose of that action? "Why?" Her voice was quiet, almost whispered, but what was held within that single word could not be discerned—there were too many questions held within it to be able to do so. Cwmfen turned her head slightly take a sidelong glance at the coyote. "The time will soon come," the soft melody promised, her words dark with her resolve. "And it will all end." Ambiguity. It was the game of the fates. She turned her eyes away from him, looking at her hands. And for a moment, it seemed as if she would rise, as if she were going to seek out her forsaken father. But she was still, frozen in this moment, feeling as if she were unable to act. But without action, what could she do?
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Her laughter delighted him and continued to bring out the affectionate nature that he had not known he had in him. Not until her. "I never will," he assured her. He knew her love for her would be constant and unending. One such as him did not feel anything unless it was strong and in some manner unchanging. That kiss gave the male a renewed strength and once again he felt content and whole. He craved her like he had never craved anything, for the way he wanted her was so different from the need to pursue his mission. His mission was to serve a higher purpose. It was for something more than just himself or any other single mortal being. The love between them was the one luxury he allowed himself, for he could not resist it. He was drawn to Cwmfen. Drawn to how she made him feel, how she understood him, how she accepted him. That kiss showed his need for her, his passion for her.
The injuries were fairly superficial. Painful yes, but far from the worst. The only place his skin had been broken last time were a few claw marks on the back of his neck. All in all he had suffered very little from the crow wolf that last fight. Onus had drawn more blood this time, had caused more damage. It was nothing compared to what had been dealt to him the first time, but it was still something. He didn't consider it a victory particularly, for that had not been what that encounter had been about. Defeating the man had not been his main concern that time. It had been to make him leave Mati and return the girl to safety. He had succeeded in that however. He saw the varied emotions cross her eyes, but he held strong. Corvus did not worry him, he did not fear facing him. The only thing he worried about was making sure that he did not do what he wished with Cwmfen.
She moved to sit upon the bed and he moved after her, unwilling to give up their intimacy so quickly. He did not sit beside her, but stayed laying on the bed. His hand moved to rest on her upper arm and he gently pressed his nose to her neck. As she spoke he knew her words were true. Onus had felt as much at the end of his last fight with the demon. The next time would be the last. Only one of them would live. "I know." He kissed her neck a few times, his fingers rubbing her arm. "I will do everything I can to stop him Cwmfen. I won't let him take you." Even if he died trying. Even if he died, he would take something of that dark man with him. The price of Onus' death would be a steep price for Corvus to pay. His lips kissed the top of her shoulder, trying to comfort her, though he knew it probably would not work.
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The Dahlian warrior’s heart beat more deeply with his words, with his loves and passions. The intensity of her love was like a fire, and she had to be careful with it. It was this love that had brought that fear of loss, that had nearly created the loss that was so feared. It was this love, also, that threatened to become a wild passion, like a battle. Rough. It was strange how such a thing took away her control, how such a thing could lay her bare and vulnerable. And yet, as vulnerable to him as she felt, she would rather it be him than anyone else. She would rather not breathe than to be divided from this man. ...Love was dangerous, just as any extreme emotion was. But it was this danger that thrilled the woman, and this man could thrill her like nothing else in that mortal world.
The woman was silent, her eyes watching the blank wall opposite her. A light smile crossed her maw, and though it held that silver tone, that smile was almost sad like the falling rain on a bright day. And the cleansing rain was his voice, his words, his protection. Her hand lifted to reach for him, the woad bound fingers pushing through his mane, feeling his fur and the heat of his skin. "I know," she whispered, almost inaudibly. She knew that he would be there for her, that he would protect her. And the black fae would need his help—she knew that she could not defeat the crow wolf. Much of what she knew of combat had been learned by watching him as a child. Alone, she did not have the power, the strength, to defeat that creature of darkness. But with Onus, she felt that such a thing were possible. It would need to be. The soft kisses he gave to her were taken, falling into her skin to flow through the blood of her veins.
Cwmfen fell back to him, slowly lowering herself to the soft bed, pressing her back against his chest, her hips against his. The scars of her body hid against his form, for it was upon her neck and back that such scars were held. The black fae sought his hand, simply holding it in hers, feeling the roughness of those hands that had killed many, and yet feeling the tenderness of his touch against her skin. The woman sighed quietly. There was nothing to be done now. She simply wanted to lie with him, to love him and enjoy the simplicity of this moment. And she was silent as she lay there against him, her eyes half lidded with the security of his proximity. And her body burned for him as with perpetual desire, both physically and mentally. The city was strange, she decided, holding a strange beauty. It was like Onus, so strange and rough, and yet there was something beautiful about him, something about his soul. He was someone she understood, and she wanted to know him so very deeply.
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Never had he so willingly given himself up to an emotion. Not even anger. When anger overtook him it was because it breached the wall of his self control. Such occurrences were few and far between. One such instance had been when he fought with Haku and the man had untied his eye wrap. That violation had made the rage boil in his blood and he had been unable to control it. He knew that love could be just as dangerous, but at the same time he did not want to hold back his feelings. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, how much he wanted her, how important to him she was. For once the man was not afraid to be open with another and he had underestimated how freeing that would be. How it would complete him in a way.
As her fingers brushed through his hair his eyes closed, savoring the feel. The hand that was holding him up went to undo the knot in his cloth. He wanted to see her unfiltered. She was the only one he had willingly done so for, and probably would remain the only one. While he did feel the cloth was a better representation of who he was, he wished to eliminate all distance between them. He wanted her to actually be able to look into his eyes, no matter how unpure so many thought them to be. He would always be there for her. To protect her and comfort her. Onus wanted to eliminate that shadow from her life that was her father. To free her from that constant worry. Soon the time for that to be possible would come and he hoped that he was able to give that to her.
The man was happy when she laid back against him on the bed. That silent heat burned where their bodies touched. He let her take his hand, feeling her delicate fingers. For a second the image of the chocolate wolf flashed before his eyes and the words he had called out slipped through his mind. He wanted to ask her why. Why she had been so intimate with that man. If he had made her feel the same things that he made her feel now, when they were together. But he pushed that to the back of his head. Enough weighed on his love's mind right now. He wanted her to forget those worries, if only for a moment. His nose moved to nuzzle one of her velveteen ears then moved down to plant a kiss on her cheek. Then his kisses touched her neck again, his nose drowning in her scent.
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Her mind lingered upon her father. How many would it take to make her act, the woman wondered once more. Already Slay and Tokyo had suffered for her, left wounded and bleeding by the jaws of the crow wolf. And now an innocent girl of no relation to herself had nearly been raped. If not for Onus, the girl would have perished. She knew her father well enough to know that rape would not be the end. He would have killed her. The woman shut her eyes. Since her father’s arrival upon these lands, the world had grown dark about her. There were things that she could not battle, things that could penetrate deep into her heart despite her efforts to resist. And it festered there in her heart like an infected wound. And she wandered the lands, silently challenging her father to show himself. But every day, she found no trace of him. He did not come to her and she had not found him. For the warrior that troubled her most of all.
The soft whisper of the discarded cloth tickled her ears, drawing her from her tenebrous thoughts. And as if brushing such thoughts away, ridding her of her troubles if only for this day, his kisses were lain upon her. A soft smile graced her maw as she gave into him, a quiet moan of delight escaping her. The white orbs that had been closed opened as she twisted her torso to be able to see him, searching the eyes that were revealed to her. Within those eyes she could clearly see him, and she smiled warmly with love on her lips. Then she turned fully about upon her other side, her body still pressed against his. Yet she thought she saw something within those black eyes, and her head tilted slightly in a silent, gentle question, a quiet curiosity. But she was silent and did not force an answer from him, though she allowed her gaze to linger. She pushed her nose along his chest, gently kissing that severe wound.
Her hands moved along his chest before wrapping about his neck, one hand lowering to his shoulder while the other moved to cradle his head. Her body was pulled up as she kissed him passionately, slowly and deeply. She could not hear the strange silence of the room that did not hold the songs of nature. Her eyes were not closed but watched the dark pools of the unmasked man, that quiet fire burning within the whiteness. And for a moment longer she watched him before those eyes closed once more, wanting him with something near to desperation, unknowing of the words that troubled the man’s mind. Those woad bound fingers gripped his fur, holding him close as if he were the one who needed to be quieted by a lover’s healing touch. And perhaps her passion had been sudden, but a woman was not the solid pillar of strength that a man was, but the constantly shifting power of the water.
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[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ppachi.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Did she move herself on top of him? I couldn't quite tell. If she didn't just let me know and I'll change it. XD
As his lips tickled her neck he could almost feel the thoughts that so worried her leave her mind. They were not gone, but she ceased to dwell upon them for now. He could only imagine how hard the situation had to be for her. To hear of and see all the attacks that her father had wrought upon the people of these lands. Corvus was trying to scare her, trying to extend her pain and suffering. Perhaps until it was too much for her to bear and she would give in to him. But Onus thought she was stronger than that. He hoped she was. He hoped she knew that she was not in this alone, that he was there to lend his strength. She did not have to face that demon alone. He just hoped that he would be able to stop Corvus before the man did anything to her. That was a mission he couldn't bear the thought of failing.
Her soft moan made the heat in his body increase. Even such a small sound from her had such a large effect on him. As she turned to face him he stared into those opposing pools, smiling back at her. His hand moved to brush her short mane to the side so he could see her whole face clearly. That hand rested on her cheek, his thumb gently rubbing the fur there. She must have sensed something was going on in his head for the way her look changed, but he remained silent on the matter. The man did not want to trouble her any further or risk causing some kind of argument. This was about helping her, at least in some small way for this short time. At her kisses a content, soft growl rumbled in his chest and his fingers ran through the hair on the back of her head.
The way her fingers dance along his skin almost made the man shiver. Suddenly their position shifted as she lay on top of him, her mouth coming to his for a deep kiss. He accepted that kiss hungrily, his hands running along her back. That fire burned in his dark orbs as well as her light ones. When her midnight lids veiled those moons his own eyes shut. One hand went up to hold the back of her head as she was holding his, the other continuing to explore the scars and fur of her strong back. For a moment he broke their kiss, his muzzle still hovering so close to her's. "Tell me that you're mine," his voice said huskily. Tell me you're mine and not his'. It wasn't meant in a possessive way. No one could own another. He just wanted to know that her heart belonged to him and him alone, to help chase the image of that brute away.
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Cwmfen always felt comfortable with him. Even when she had first met him, the woman had discarded any shyness that had usually become her. So as he brushed her hair aside, touching her face, the woman was still, smiling that golden smile in return. She was never unnerved by his proximity, knowing, and even more keenly now, that he would never hurt her, never control her. His touch made her mind shudder with delight. His hands moved across the scars that marred her back in a way that no other had done before, that sensation more intense than it had been before as if renewed by their strengthened bond. And she drank him in, allowing herself once more to drown in him, in his scent, in his being, so that the song of the souls could intermingle, could be one, fitting together as if they were meant to be. With him, she felt somehow...completed, whole. And as she held him close, kissing him, his own hand came to press her closer to him as if both felt that they could not get close enough.
As Onus broke the kiss, the hand that had held his head moved down his face and neck to rest upon his chest. Breathless, she took a deep breath as she slowly opened her eyes, and the breaths of the lovers intermingles as she lingered above him. But his words left her perplexed. Those white orbs sought his as she answered with that quiet susurrus, "I’m yours," without hesitation, knowing that she could love no other as she loved this man now. And she knew that he did not mean to possess her, to subdue her, as another male might, for he had exhibited no such behavior thus far. And yet, had he requested such a thing, the woman wondered if she could resist. There was very little that she could do against him, and she felt that she could die for him if that’s what it took to save him from whatever it was that he needed saving. Her nose brushed against his with a light touch, a single gesture of affection as she pressed herself against his body as if to ward off an oncoming cold.
But she wondered where such words came from. Her eyes continued to search those black pools that glinted in the half-light, wondering silently. "Do you doubt?" That melody was quiet, perhaps even more so than her previous words as if a thought had made itself manifest. She belonged to no other, not even her father, who claimed right to her blood and body. The warrior wondered, perhaps even worried, that the coyote would consider the Korean’s blood within her a flaw, one that she would not escape. And the woman had worried of such things herself. She worried that his blood had somehow tainted her, and that one day she would not be able to resist the innate darkness within her, that the single, dark blemish upon her soul would consume her beyond recognition, leaving her to become as her father had: empty, heartless, evil. But she tried to push those thoughts aside, hiding them behind the pure white of her eyes as she gazed upon this man who purged the earth of crime.
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The man had hated to break that kiss, to break their passion if even for a moment. But it was something he had wanted to know. In his heart he knew she was, but the words of Haku Souls scratched his mind. Whatever had been between them was long past, it had to be. And surely it had been nothing like what was between the two of them. Still, he wanted to hear her say it, for he knew she would not lie, not even to spare his feelings. His ego needed that boost. She gave him the answer that he knew was true and his smile broadened back at her. Though he could sense the confusion in her. Perhaps he shouldn't have said such a thing. He didn't want her to take it in the wrong way. But she rubbed her nose against his and he returned the gesture, his arm helping to hold her body close to his.
"No," he replied as quickly as she had. Not really. Just a fool's shadow of a doubt. Nothing he had ever truly given credence to. Onus wondered what worries he had inadvertently brought on her mind with his request, wishing he had just kept his mouth shut. "It was just something I wanted to hear." He hoped that would quell whatever negative thoughts she had. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck, his lips searching her's again for another kiss. The man had never worried that she could become anything like her father. That she was in any way tainted by him. She couldn't control her parentage anymore than he could control his. His mother had tried to kill him as a babe and while he doubted he would ever create another life, he would never do what she had done. Children like them did not follow in their parent's steps.
His arm moved to rest across her lower back and his muscles tensed for a moment as he switched their positions. Onus looked down at her lovingly, but with that hunger of passion in his onyx eyes. He moved to kiss her neck again, his teeth unveiling to lightly nibble at her there. The hand that had been at her head grazed lightly down her torso until he came to her chest. He cupped one of her breasts and squeezed it lightly, his thumb brushing over her nipple. The coyote wanted to give her pleasure. He wanted to show her that he could satisfy her just as well as any other man before they joined again. This was something she deserved and he wanted to give it to her. His tongue rang across her collarbone as his other hand caressed her side.
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He smiled then, and she knew that everything was fine. He held her close. There was a quiet relief that calmed her soul as he negated such doubt, that he had simply wanted to hear it. With a soft smile she gave him that kiss that was sought, her woad bound fingers gently touching his neck, feeling the fur and the pulse beneath them. And while she felt that he did indeed did not doubt her, there was that lingering feeling of dread. Perhaps one day something would push her too far, pushing her over the brink and into a dark abyss. She was born of rape, and she did not doubt that her mother’s rage had burned through her veins even as the darkness released his seed. She was conceived of those things, of darkness and rage, and it was said that such things were given to the child conceived. She was that child. How was it that corruption had not yet settled within her heart? And if something did push her too far, she feared that she would not be able to return. But then, she had Onus. And so she kissed him, holding onto him with that quiet soul, needing him there with her in a way she had not been able to recognize before. It was as if this would be the last time she could spend with him.
A soft, sighed moan escaped her as he switched their places, holding her carefully with the controlled strength of those arms. As she lay there beneath him, the woman relinquished her hold on him, simply looking up, taking that quiet pleasure in simply watching him. Her eyes met his gaze. I do love you, the woman thought in the silence, more than anything. Whatever physical act of lust she had partaken, the woman had been satisfying a curiosity, exploring both the body and the mind. This would be the first time that she had been taken again by a man, but then she had never loved another before. Intrigue was not the same—it was the lesser cousin of love. And while, for a woman, such an act was not purely physical, no true connection had been made. Here, with him, everything was real. Everything was certain. Beneath him, the woman could allow her thoughts fall away. The woman did not think of herself. Her mind was filled with him alone.
The woman had not realized that her breathing had quickened until he brought his lips to her neck, his teeth brushing against that soft, vulnerable skin. As he caressed her breast, the woman gave a soft sound of delight, her hands gripping the sheets at her side. Then, as he caressed her side, her own hands released the sheets, drawing up his back until she held him lightly at his nape. His tongue against her collarbone made her breathe deeply. And she realized that her body was tense. His touch washed it all away, and with that fire he had kindled she relaxed beneath muscled form. Softly, gently, the black fae licked the wound at his shoulder, her tongue caressing that savage scar. Her maw moved up his neck, her teeth tugging at his ear with a soft, almost playful growl. Her hands wandered to explore his body, always delighted by the feel of him beneath her touch. That touch moved across those cuts and bruises, kissing them with her fingers.
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The man didn't know what he would do without her anymore. So quickly she had become such a large part of his life that the thought of losing her actually frightened him. Nothing had ever frightened him. Not really. Not since he had been changed as a child. But now he feared losing her. He didn't know exactly what Corvus wanted with her or planned to do for he couldn't bring himself to ask her. But if she perished while he still lived he knew it would be devastating. The coyote that had once seemed to be made of stone now had a big, fleshy weakness in his chest that if someone stabbed a knife through he would crumble. He would continue with his mission, but he would not be able to stay in these lands and he would be an even more hollow man than he had been before meeting her. Even if she didn't die but her spirit was broken things could fall apart. He would never leave her, but perhaps she would not want him. That thought made his chest feel tight, but he pushed it away. He wanted to live in the moment again and lose himself with her.
Her soft sounds of pleasure fueled his flames, just as they had last time. Already he felt the heat rushing to his loins. The coyote's skin burned underneath the touch of her fingers, but it was a burn that felt so good. So satisfying. His teeth nibbled at her collarbone, his fingers lightly pinching her nipple. Feeling her tongue on his scar made his shudder. The tug at his ear and the playful growl made him grin as his kisses trailed down her chest. His tongue traced around the curve of her neglected breast. Right now this was all about her, and paying such devoted attention to her brought him great pleasure in turn. He growled softly as he buried his nose in the fur of her chest, breathing her in deeply. Cwmfen was more than someone like him probably deserved, but her love was the greatest gift. A gift he would always be willing to take and return to her tenfold.
The man's well toned body shifted, his kisses trailing down her stomach. When he reached her hips he gave each one a kiss and looked up at her. Those black pools reflected that she was the only woman he would ever lay with, that he would ever love. That she had come to mean the world to him and that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe and happy. His lips kissed the inner part of her left thigh as his fingers caressed her right. Slowly he moved downwards, his tongue trailing along her banded leg, until he hovered over her most precious area. The heat from her warmed his face and her scent was so strong he was lost in it, yet he could not get enough. With care his mouth moved to meet her and his lips placed a kiss on her femininity.
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He made her forget, each touch inducing nothing but pleasure. The intensity of the flame that he had invoked within her was burning—she had forgotten the power of such a thing, how irresistible, how consuming it was. It was like something new, something completely different, just as she had experienced upon the first time she had lain with a man willingly. That quiet apprehension that had plagued her, that had made her especially tentative around males, fell away. The fear and rough nature that had been shown her by her father that year ago was forgotten, relinquished. The dysphonic nature of those memories long ago imprinted on her mind were brushed away by this male, by his mere touch, by his love. She breathed in his scent, so unique and delighting, and it cleared her mind. She felt renewed, rekindled, as if in some way she had been reborn. And it made her feel strong enough to do anything, to be who she was and do what must be done.
The soft shudder that greeted her as she licked that wound delighted her as much as his touch did. The scars that were met by his hands burned with such an intensity that it felt cool. And he made such dichotomies explode upon her skin, making her heart beat swifter for him. Soft sighs and gasps were given in response to those touches. Her hands brushed through his fur, her claws brushing softly against his skin, as if the subtle pleasures he gave to her were almost unbearably so, uncontainable. She smiled as he moved along her. His tongue against her skin made her breath quiver in her throat, her chest rising and falling with the deep breaths of her quickened heartbeat. Her hands pushed through the fur of his face to gently hold him as he pushed his nose against her chest, that growl moving through her form. Laying her head back upon the bead, the woman gave a soft whine of pleasure, and she realized that he was doing this for her.
He moved down along her, tracing her stomach and hips with soft, gentle kisses. Her eyes half-lidded for that pleasure looked down upon him, watching him as he moved. He kissed her hips, and she looked into those dark eyes and fell in love with him again, and she would again and again, her love for him undying. Her breath stilled as he went to her thighs, and her parted legs relaxed under his touch. A soft moan escaped her as she fell back, feeling him so close to her almost unbearable. The black fae gasped, a soft cry escaping her, a sound of pure delight. The delights of his touch were laced thickly in her voice, her back arching slightly as her hands gripped the sheets beneath her. This was something completely new for the woman, and the fire that burned for him raged within her. Her soft breathing was quick as if the air was not enough. And surely it was not—she needed him. Her mind and her body desired him and only him.
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