DEEP BROWN HUES finally looked up from the blueprints and diagrams laid out in front of him, it was getting late and jadiel had already been poring over the dossier for the past three hours. It had taken weeks for the rebellion’s undercover agent working the coalition compound to access the files that he had requested, and he wasn’t about to let them go to waste now. most people might have thought that a wolf’s greatest enemy was a leech, and while jadiel personally hated the bloodsucking bastards with every bone in his body, it was the humans that concerned him the most now. the night at the inferno — how many members of his pack had been harmed? kidnapped, too, and they were still working out a way to retrieve them all in one piece.
so he’d work as late into the night as he had to, while erik did fuck all wherever he happened to be. right now, he was at his usual spot in the iron forge, at the end of the bar with an ice cold mahou cinco estrella keeping him company. he drew back a large drink of his favorite beer, wiping the foam off his upper lip before glancing up at whoever happened to be approaching him. it was to be expected — werewolf bar, co-leader of the resistance pack. he’d never turn anyone away. “what can i do ya for?” he asked with a wry, albeit tired smile, running a hand through his dark, curly hair and wondering idly if he should have just pulled most of it back and up off of his face with the leather band he wore around his wrist. “c’mon, sit. you look like you could use a drink or two.”
After the raid on The Inferno weeks ago, it felt as though Viktor’s options were quickly running out. Each and every day, more Bratva members came to the city, meaning more people he had to watch out for while orchestrating the return of his sister from the clutches of the fallen. As tempted as he was, to crash into the club and start firing, the attack had tightened security, and even the alpha knew that alone he was well outnumbered.
As much as it pained him to get involved with anything related to the ongoing spat between light and dark alliances, he needed allies if he was to have his family returned to him. And only one option seemed viable.
Viktor entered into the Iron Forge silently; an imposing outsider presence among those who had chosen not to follow in the coalition’s wake. He had been there several times already with Ronan, whispering plans and exchanging information when they had a moment to spare, but tonight he wasn’t looking for any fellow Russians. Scanning the bar, he found his mark and made a beeline towards him, hands held down at his sides to show he meant no harm. Jadiel Abrego was an older man, but not by much, and if rumours were to be believed, he might be one of the few wolves he could turn to at this desperate hour.
“I am needing more than just a drink, but it’s a good start.“ He replied, taking the stool at the bar beside him as he nodded to the bartender. The werewolf said nothing for a moment, until a glass of kvass was before him and they were left alone. It was perhaps unnecessary, if Jadiel was indeed the person Viktor thought he was, but being lackadaisal had already cost him dearly. “Your name came up in a conversation at the Den. I’m told you have eyes all over this city. Is it true?” Viktor looked over at him, sizing up the other wolf with an inscutable expression. “Someone was stolen from me, and I am wanting them back. I know where they are, but what I am needing is information. You think you can help?”
Mikhal knew that this was wrong. All of it was. But this wasn’t his doing. This didn’t involve him. He was just as in the dark about it as anyone else who was attending the party. He could understand why she was mad, he even felt a little angry about it. But he had his duty to do, despite what she thought he knew. He took a deep breath. He knew it was no use trying to convince her that he knew nothing. She already had it set in her mind what she believed.
“I know nothing. I’m a guardian. My only responsibility is her. I haven’t even been to the headquarters of the angels of light. ” He stepped away from her and pulled out his phone to show a picture of him and Carmen posing together. “I didn’t want any of this to happen, and I don’t support it. But it’s not my place. I need to find her. I’m sorry for what happend.”
The fallen angel shook her head, exasperation simmering down her burning hot rage. “Honestly, what kind of angel are you?“ Even she knew a lost cause when she saw one, and as unhappy as she was about it, there was simply nothing that could be done. This stranger was too fresh in his wings, too new to give her the sort of information you’re looking for. She almost felt sorry for his ward.
She stared at his phone, her scowl remaining as she crossed her arms. “...Yeah, I’ve seen her, but in the direction she was running, you’re not going to be able to get to her without an escort. Exit’s across the club.” Celine gestured across the fighting, raising an eyebrow at the angel. “You sure you’re up for this? She’s just a ward. They don’t last that long anyways.”
Marie raised a brow, “everyone is short handed at the moment.” It wasn’t new news to her as she flicked the ashes of the cigarette she had just lit. “First of all, this may be the territory my leaders claim but it is definitely not my turf. Second, we’re working on it.” She sighed, everyone was working on it that’s one reason why her brother was of in the corner on the phone. At least she hoped he wasn’t talking to a woman right now. They needed help not sex. That’s what got all of them into this mess in the first place.
Her brow pricked back up with interest as she exhaled the puff of nicotine she had just taken in. “You do?” And then she sighed, “I could have told you that. Angel’s probably knew about it. A saw a couple of them fluttering around like butterflies last night. But they aren’t wicked enough to hold prisoners. It’s probably something with the humans or the wolves.” She said pointing at the mental image of each creature. “But more the humans,” she said tilting her head, “they use those two sets of creatures as an army. I should know I worked with them enough.” Her brow rose and she extinguished the cigarette on the ground under her high heeled shoe. “So, lead the way. Let’s get to the fun part of figuring this out.”
“Be that as is may, we’re holding the Fallen accountable. Whether it’s an individual or the group, I can’t say. I’m merely one of many messengers.“ Arabella clasped her hands together lightly, gradually feeling more comfortable in her persona the more she spoke. It was an awkward adjustment, like wearing a second skin that didn’t fit quite right, but it seemed as though the woman was buying her act. It was reassuring, though she wasn’t foolish enough to lower her guard even slightly. Now that she had caught her interest, this was when things got dangerous.
The vampire smiled slowly, nodding her head in confirmation. “Yes. You see, while you were ‘working on it’, one of ours came back. Gave us a general idea of where they’re being kept.” She had no reason to doubt the other woman about her insight. If anyone understood angels the best, it was a former one. “Assuming it would be uncharacteristic of the angels to get involved with such a thing narrows down our search. Tell me, what do you think of doing a little infiltration of the Leaders’ Village?” Arabella asked, tilting her head slightly. “Giving them a taste of their own medicine for a change?”
“Ugh, selfish bastards….there’s no fun if i’m not getting off too!” She meant for it to come out in a teasing tone, as if she was truly so carefree that sex was the only thing she was thinking of, but if it fell a little flat, she’d rather ignore that. In reality Rosalia is tired, she finally gathers enough energy to crawl to the bars that were caging her in. She rested her face against the bars and looked at Kael. “It’s somehow more infuriating that those fuckers go to our places of business and still have the gall to hunt us down. Hypocrites. All of them.”
Rosalia winced as Kael pointed at his cheek, her own throbbing as she remembered the backhand that left a similar bruise on her very own face. At the detailings of the information Kael gave up, Rosalia giggled. Her eyes flashing with pure delight. Not only at the hilarious anecdotes of the Vampire king Rosalia has never formally met, but at the sheer brilliance of her friend. His wit and charm truly a force to be reckoned with. “Sure, but there are some slinky velvet dresses that look amaaaazing on me. I feel like there are some killer outfits from the seventies but I suppose that was really only true for some stylish women…and of course any and all bell bottoms are excluded from this narrative.” Rosalia gave a half smile, shaking her head as it sunk in that this was her reality. Held captive in a cage, attempting to defend the seventies….how did her life ever come to this?
“Hmmm, shower. Definitely. I can’t wait to wash away the grime.” It was clinging to her like a second skin. Never had she ever felt so filthy. Rosalia closes her eyes and sighs. “Immediately after the shower I’m taking a looong bath. I have a sex bomb bath bomb waiting for me and I just want to soak in the pretty pink water.” Rosalia looked back at Kael. “But a real bed sounds good too..” Rosalia gasps as another thought comes to mind. “Also food. I’m craving tacos soooo badly. I want some carne asada ones, and al pastor oh oh and of course some chorizo ones.” She licked her lips longingly.
Kael nodded in agreement, flashing his fangs as he smiled. “What did you expect from them? Humans are as two-faced as they come. Begging for just another hit of what we can provide and somehow wondering why we see them as portable snack packs. There’s just no understanding that pleasure comes at a cost.“ He rolled his eyes. “But believe me, the next time they decide to waltz into one of the Night Court’s establishments, well...” The General chuckled, eyes darkening as violent thoughts danced about in their head. “It won’t be quick. I can promise you that.”
To hear even a weak bit of laughter lifted the vampire’s mood. It suited Rosalia much better when she was lit up and smiling, as she always was when she took to the stage at The Inferno. “Oh yes, but you’d look stunning in just about anything, let’s be honest.” Kael quipped back, mirth dancing in his tone. “The seventies was a blurry decade for me, so I don’t have many objections. They really put the ‘life’ into nightlife around that time. Disco, the Sexual Revolution, it was never so easy to find a good meal back then. And while the clothing might have been questionable, so long as it ended up on the floor, it didn’t matter that much.” He shot her a wink, wiggling his eyebrows a little from across the hall before bringing a finger to his lips. “Just don’t tell Gabriel. He might disown me if he knew.” Hopping from bed to bed was fine. Admitting he enjoyed an aesthetically-revolting decade? That was real treason.
As she spoke about washing away the grime of their prison, Kael found himself nodding in agreement. Scrubbing this place off of his skin and out of his memory sounded divine after the hellish days of being cooped up in the world’s worst hotel. “Bath bombs...Now there’s a thought.” He hummed, pausing at the mention of food. “Chouriço...Haven’t thought about how good that is in a while. In feijoada or with pão de queijo... And doce de leite, oh, I miss that.” Kael sighed, feeling a bit of homesickness as he thought of all the decadent foods he couldn’t enjoy anymore. “You know, food is not as enjoyable after you turn. You can still taste things, but blood is just so much better.” He looked over and cracked another grin. “But I suppose if we’ll be going out to eat after this, there’s always the busboy.”
she is a fatal woman, a seductress in every way, with a bullet in her purse and a gun to aim it at her man. her red lips whisper sweet nothings into the ears of strangers, flirtatious jokes and batting eyelashes as she pursues her next victim. she is not a princess, she is a queen; the world her castle. every step she takes throughout it she takes with confidence – shoulders back, head held high, eyes straight – as if all passers-by are merely extras in her own film. she dresses like marilyn monroe, conquering the 1950s in extravagant gowns and sky scraping heels. she is a glorious woman, a socialite, a man-eater. she is an assassin.
There had been quite a few unpleasant experiences at that party, but she didn’t remember Viktor being one of them. In fact he had been kind and treated her with respect, which was unusual when it came to Alphas in heat. She shook her head when he asked if he had scared her. The full moon had put everyone on edge that night. Reagan couldn’t remember feeling scared when she ran into him
“Yes I am.” She answered quietly. “I know it was a a bad idea. But a few friends of mine who aren’t wolves convinced me to go. They didn’t know that I was in heat or that it was going to be a sex party.”
The alpha nodded in understanding, offering a sympathetic smile. “So you chose to follow your pack. Non-wolves yes, but in my experience, is all the same thing.“ He could relate to that, bending to the pressure of the group rather than looking after one’s self. “Still, is much easier when one is having wolf friend to be helping them say ‘no’, yes? I can be teaching you Russian, if you are needing to refuse more strongly. Is good language. Makes small omegas sound more like alpha.” Though it sounded almost like a joke, the offer was a sincere one. Any sort of advantage was a good one for smaller wolves, and while he hadn’t done well with Tatiana, perhaps it would be more effective for another?
Looking out at the other wolves, he fell quiet. “Do they...are they treating wolves well? The registered ones? I must admit, is hard to be thinking government has best protection...but I am not knowing very well. Do you?”
Noah hadn’t been to surprised to find The Inferno up and running again so quickly after the raid, the co-leaders of the Fallen Angels weren’t known for their ability to get down and stay down, and even with several of their inner circle members in captivity, it seemed like business still needed to continue as usual. That was fine and dandy for him, he’d been given a few new marks in the chaotic aftermath of the government’s attack, but nothing compared to the assignments he had picked up before half the city’s supernaturals had gone hiding underground. He was fine, though—he knew how to look after himself, always had, but he hadn’t been able to shake one thought in particular out of his mind ever since the night of the raid: his former mate and current heiress of the Angels of Light, Sophia Wren.
He’d seen her at the party while searching for his target, there was no missing those long locks of golden-blonde hair or long, sunkissed legs, not to mention her unmistakable white wings that had been even more out of place than usual within the shadowed walls of The Inferno. Regardless, seeing her had woken up something inside of Noah that had been long dormant, he’d kept himself somewhat up to date on her well-being and whereabouts, but always from a distance, it was for both his good and hers. But so much had happened to her in the last year. Losing both of her parents, and even before that, the lover that had swept in within his absence—a certain Celine Dahl—had decided to up and abandon her the same way that he had.
How could one girl live through all that and more?
He figured that she would have had to pick up at least one more lover in the wake of everything that had happened (if not more), but Noah determinedly set aside any and all feelings of jealous rage so that he could focus on her general well-being instead, there would have been an uproar in heaven above if anything had happened to her at the party, but … still. He needed to be certain. And that was why he was at The Inferno now, not to visit any of the escorts he occasionally sought out during the full moon, but to approach the tall, impassive bouncer standing outside the front door. Was this their new and improved security system?
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes and snort derisively, Noah raised both of his thick, dark brows expectantly, when he spoke it was in a short, low voice. “I’m looking for an angel,” he said gruffly, and before the bouncer could interrupt him with some form of nonsense involving the women for sale within The Inferno, Noah cut him off to speak once more. “Not one of the working girls—a guest of the club. Angel of Light, fluffy white wings and all. Long blonde hair, tan skin. She in tonight?”
Celine was on the rooftop, a glass of wine in hand as she watched humans scurry about like rodents along Amsterdam’s canals. Ever since the raid on the club, both Luca and Raphael had everyone playing guard dog for their precious establishment. Bouncers at the doors, eyes in the sky, it was all rather excessive in her opinion. It would have been far easier just to raze the rest of the city to the ground, but no, they had to be ‘diplomatic’, whatever that meant. And so she stood, an overqualified gargoyle glaring down at people who lingered too closely to The Inferno’s entranceway. Not that anyone could really get in with that brute of a bouncer in the way. At least it was interesting to watch them try.
Her eyes narrowed and the fallen angel stilled as she saw a certain hunter approaching the doors. Noah Hekili. She could have spotted him from a mile away, if only out of spite. Listening carefully to his question below, Celine gritted her teeth in anger. His description of the woman he was looking for matched only one that they both knew, one she had spent months comforting after his sorry ass up and left the first minute he lost his cool. And he had the audacity to seek her out? While yet another one of her beaus was out in a prison cell somewhere? Fuck that.
“You.“
Sophia’s business was no more relevant to her than any of her other past exes, and yet seeing Noah’s face in her home drew out her montrous, volitile temper like no one else could. Celine dropped from the rooftop in a flurry of blonde hair and obsidian feathers, ready to spew fire and drive this bastard as far away from the club as she could. “Let me make myself crystal clear, Hekili. I know who you’re here to see and the answer is kindly fuck off. She’s had enough of your for a lifetime and then some.” She brushed herself off before shooting him a withering glare, all barbed edges and bared teeth.
The absolute nerve of this bastard, to try and puppy-eye his way into seeing Sophia again. No, Celine knew that the angel was too soft-hearted, too vulnerable to see just how much she didn’t need this overgrown mutt. So it was up to her to kick his ass straight back to the curb where he belonged. “You’re not getting into the club without a good reason. Unless you’re in the mood to get your face rearranged, I suggest you beat it.”
Arabella had only been to The Black Dahlia a handful of times, usually with her arm draped over a high ranking vampire that had chosen her for the evening. It was the first time she had entered as a fully-fledged vampire herself; an unwilling initiate into a kingdom that she had wanted nothing to do with until it was far too late for her to refuse. And when news of her turning began to circulate, an inevitability given who she used to be and who she was associated with, the Night Court had wasted no time in extending an invitation out to the fledgling.
Up to this point, she had managed to ignore them all, but when the Vampire King himself called on her, Arabella knew that her seclusion was over.
The opulence of the headquarters should have stunned her, should have inspired some sense of awe and wonder directed towards her hosts. Yet all she could summon were her familiar instincts. Fear, hunger, disgust and a severe sense of self-loathing made her skin crawl in discomfort. Even Gabriel Beaumont’s office, which held intellectual treasures dating back to the French Revolution, something that should have sparked her curiosity, felt tainted and wrong. How many people had he slain, in his long, long, life as king? She was a mouse set in front of a lion with nowhere to run, trapped in a room to await the inevitable.
She dared a look up at Gabriel himself, feeling stiff and unsure of the eerily dark gentleman before her. He was undoubtedly a beautiful man, which was all the more reason to be wary of him. Nothing good came from beauty. “I...um...“ Arabella felt her throat tighten as she tried to break the stifling silence between then, feeling far more intimidated than she had expected. “Your Majesty, I’m pleased to...meet you?” It came out more of a question than she had wanted it to, but it was too late to go back on her words now. “My apologies, I just... It hasn’t been long since I...er, how can I be of service?”
There was something about this girl, with her milk and honey skin and bright eyes the color of the sea just after a storm, that triggered something buried deep inside of Gabriel. It was as he’d told Kael; she resembled a Botticelli painting–like Venus erupting from the sea, drenched in seaform and bursting forth from a pearlescent sea shell. There was something innocent about the full, plush pout of her lips; innocent and yet deeply seductive. Gabriel was reminded of the sirens he’d read about in ancient Greek mythology and lore–at any moment, she would likely part her petal pink lips and sing a haunting melody that would ensnare forlorn sailors. Gabriel both rejected his beauty and was intrigued by it in others; he refused to gaze upon the features that had scarred him, but appreciated the view Sophia Wren gave him as an artist would appreciate their muse.
And then…there was Kael. There had always been Kael, for as long as Gabriel could recount his immortality. His most constant lover, his dearest friend; Gabriel found his mind briefly wandering, recalling the way it felt to see Kael’s warm, browned skin, like burnished bronze and gold, underneath his touch–like the sun was trapped in the lining of his skin. They were like the sun, golden and all-consuming, and Gabriel found himself wondering what it would feel like to be eclipsed by Kael Endiron and Sophia Wren. How would they feel, knowing they were with a man who embodied the shadows of the moon? How would they feel, knowing that his darkness clung to him like a second skin, following the vampire king through every facet of his life like am omniscient reaper? As his lieutenant spoke, Gabriel’s gaze tore away from the young woman before them to listen to Kael speak. The way he spoke of Sophia, as an ethereal being, struck a chord somewhere deep inside of Gabriel’s soul. He had never been a pure and innocent thing, even in his days as a mortal, so to be in the presence of such purity? He found he could hardly stand the way it made him feel.
As Kael kissed him, the most reverent brushing of the General’s lips against his own, Gabriel felt his lips part as if on instinct. This was a dance the two had been playing for centuries, and as Kael kissed him and stroked his jaw, Gabriel thought, for the briefest, flickering moments: This is what it’s like to be with someone who cares for you. He pulled away, his lower teeth brushing against Kael’s full, plush lower lip, and dragged his bright, burning eyes towards Sophia. She was enrapturing, and for the first time in a long time, Gabriel found himself wanting to bring someone new into his embrace; into his bed, into his body, into every single part of him he kept locked away.
Gabriel glanced at the outstretched hand Sophia had produced for him, taking it and sliding their fingers together. Her hand fit into his like a glove, and with a slight tug of his wrist, he brought her close. A riot of shivers buzzed up and down the length of his spine as Kael insinuated Sophia would be on her knees for both of them–it was curious, what pure, unbridled arousal could do to him. To be in charge of his own sexuality and wants; even after all this time, it was still…dizzying. Exhilarating. With his fingers knotted with Sophia’s, he dragged her towards him, leaning forward to brush the full, swollen plush of his lips against the warm, soft shell of her ear.
“La pensée d'être en toi suffit à me rendre fou,” he murmured against her skin. The thought of being inside of you is enough to drive me mad. He took her hand and dragged it down to the bulging swell of his trousers, pressing her palm against his clothed cock and running his thumb across the back of her palm. “I’ve heard such sweet, filthy stories about your mouth.” He tilted her face towards his, leaning forward slowly and brushing his lips across hers, his fangs dragging slightly against her lower lip.
“Show me, mon petit oiseau.”
( @nymphcts )
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The faint pull on his lower lip stirred something wild inside Kael; a deep lusty feeling that leapt straight from his throat downwards, pooling at the base of his loins. Almost as soon as Gabriel pulled away, he felt the craving for more. To feel his skin against his, to drown in his scent and lose himself with the taste of his king on his lips. Centuries of their couplings and the vampire still couldn’t get enough of him, and doubted that he ever would. And now, with Sophia pressed closely between them, creamy, glowing skin softer than the finest silks they could buy, it was almost too much for him to endure. His cock strained against the confines of his trousers, swollen and twitching with an eagerness that even he found difficult to control. Two centuries of fooling around with everything that moved and he still felt like an inexperienced youth, finally discovering all the pleasures that three people could share when they bore everything to each other.
To watch was nearly as decadent and experience, the sweet cadence of French spilling secrets out into the world and for Kael’s enjoyment. Though it was not even his second language, one does not spend decades with a Parisian without developing an appreciation for all the filthy whisperings that came from those with such a melodic tongue. And what wicked things that tongue could do, when put to good use. As Sophia obediently dropped down to her knees before the both of them, the scent of her sex familar and inviting, hunger replaced his introspective mood. Kael was her wolf for a reason, and he was more than ready to devour the lost little lamb that was so eager to be feasted upon.
It took little time before she had freed him from the confines of his clothing, showing just how much he needed both her and Gabriel at that very moment. Kael was by no means a modest man by nature. In fact, the very knowledge of his lover’s presence, so tantalizingly close, as he readied himself to claim the mouth of the woman on her knees before him only excited him further; which seemed to greatly please Sophia.
He glanced at Gabriel, hazel eyes darkened as his feral grin widened. “Don’t let her innocent face fool you, dear friend.” Kael ran a hand through her blonde hair, stroking her as one might stroke the head of a cherished pet. ”I’ve fucked my way through all of Paris and Amsterdam, and I’ve never encountered anyone with such raw...talent as she.” His grip tightened then, pulling at the base of her scalp as she wrapped her lips around his heated cock. “And never have I found someone who looks half as lovely while begging.”
Sophia’s lips were almost unbearably warm and inviting, his cock twitching as he eased himself in. Though she knew the curve of every vein, every sensitive pulse, Kael was careful not to drive into her too harsly until they had the opportunity to adjust to one another. She would be expected to please multiple partners that night, after all. But soon he fell into a familiar rhythmn with his angel, thrusting into her with the full intent to use and abuse her desperate, wanton mouth for his own pleasure. She was so pliable, so willing, and he let out a deep-throated groan as he buried himself deeper and deeper into her throat, a wave of pleasure building and mounting inside him to dizzying heights.
But he wouldn’t fall just yet.
Kael locked eyes with the king again, burning with unbridled lust as he pulled Sophia away roughly, his voice husky and dripping with desire. “Good. Very good, meu amor. You’ve taken to your lessons well. But let us not keep our guest waiting.” He loosened his hold on her instead reaching out to gingerly undo the button of Gabriel’s dark, pressed suit. “Deixe-me te adorar, pois você vale muito a pena.” He breathed, peppering kisses along the fine curvature of his jaw and neck as he slid the jacket off, desperate for physical contact, to touch and taste as his own words echoed against his very skin.
‘Let me worship you, for you are so very worth it.’
She didn’t really remember closing her eyes when the water covered them — nor did she remember loosing consciousness. It was all so quick. Never in her life — and sadly, she had passed out before — has she slipped into the dark so quickly. It must have been the shock of the cold water, racing up to meet her small frame as she fell to meet it. One minute, she was looking like a freighted doe into the warm brown eyes of the stranger, and the next, the warmth was gone and she was surrounded by silence.
She thought she’d at least have a moment to ask forgiveness before her life was over. To apologize for her actions, to make peace with the horrible world around her. She always thought she’d die old and cozy in a bed, lying next to someone who cared about her, with no worries or regrets. Even working in such a pit of sin, that had always been the way she’d thought she’d really and truly go.
At least dying at the hands of a werewolf or vampire or fallen angel would have been a bit more eventful than freezing to death, and not even being conscious long enough to feel that cold.
But it swallowed her whole, like a great beast. There wasn’t even a light. There was supposed to be a light, wasn’t there? And oh, that poor sweet stranger had had to watch her die. With his kind words and gentle eyes. Saria hadn’t wanted that. It would have been better if he hadn’t been there — even if she was selfishly thankful she’d gotten to say her name to one more person. One more person to remember her, perhaps — but in such an awful and sad way.
He didn’t deserve that.
It was several, long, strange moments before Saria was dragged out of the dark abruptly and the cold struck her veins akin to lightning. Her eyes fluttered open — pink lips and normal flushed face a sickly, strange shade of blue — and found herself once more locked on his warm brown eyes. Her breathing didn’t increase, though, and it was a moment more before the air around her filled her lungs once more and she gagged on the icy water that was almost her grave.
Was this another chance?
She chocked, coughed, and turned her head to the side as a trembling and cold hand lept up out of instinct and closed around his wrist. Wheezing, struggling to breath, with tears that began to blur her vision and spill down her half frozen cheeks. How long has she been under the water? Was this real, or perhaps some illusion of what might have happened if he’d gotten to her fast enough? The cold felt real, now. It was settling into her bones at an alarming rate, the soaked clothing that clung to her like a second skin causing her to shiver and shake as if she was a leaf in an autumn breeze. She’d never been so cold before. Her grip on him tightened, and as she coughed and wheezed and started to heave in air that was definitely real — it had to be real — and had to close her eyes again to cope with the force of it. She wanted to keep her eyes closed. Maybe that would warm her up. She could curl into the snow covered ground and sleep for a while.
And the scarf — she could buy a new scarf when she woke up. But right then? It was cold, and she only wanted to sleep, because the barely-there warmth of his hand on her throat… it was strangely comforting.
Viktor didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Saria gasped for air, coughing out the pond water from her lungs as soon as her body realized that she was back on land. Their eyes met only briefly before she entered another round of coughing, and he felt an odd twinge of something in his chest. Empathy, perhaps? He frowned, confused as she gripped his arm and his pulse quickened again, responding to her distress. But this was no time for introspection, when the cold water had drained all the colour out of her sun-kissed cheeks, leaving her frightfully wan even in the mild winter weather. The pond had been deceptively cold, and the human’s body clearly wasn’t handling it well.
He needed to get her somewhere warm, quickly.
“I’m sorry for this.” He whispered softly, picking up the shivering woman as gently as he could, cradling her against him as he took off towards his residence. It was the closest place he could think of that was safe, where no one would ask questions of him. She was so small, pressed up against his broad chest, seeking out any sort of warmth that could ease the cold seeping into her bones. Viktor’s grip tightened, urgency pushing him through the doors and up the stairs, two at a time, up until he reached the flat listed under his name. He fumbled for his keys, hands shaking as he jammed them into the lock and barrelled inside, mind racing a mile a minute as he scrambled to save the poor creature in his arms.
Viktor brought her to his bedroom, laying her down on the soft linen sheets and hesitating just a moment before carefully peeling away the soaking layers of Saria’s clothing. The jacket and boots had been easy to remove, but the rest stuck to her so closely that he had little choice but to mutter a short apology before switftly tearing through the damp material with a practiced hand. At least attempting to preserve her modesty, the werewolf averted his eyes, trying not to let his hands linger anywhere too long as he removed the last of the ruined clothing. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch, worrying him further. She was far too cold. “Vy budete v poryadke, Saria.” He murmured, pulling the blankets over her frail form before running off to find others to pile on. But even as he threw yet another comforter over her, bundling her up as much as he would any of the younger pups when they had spent far too much time in the cold back home, nothing seemed warm enough to stop the shivering.
The Russian paced a moment, mind racing until it seemed that he would have to go with the inevitable. It was a desperate move, but given that she needed him and she was in a perilous state, it seemed like the only option. “...Just so you know, is not my first option.” He didn’t know if she was listening, under the many layers of throws, blankets and sheets from around the flat. “But you are being much too cold. Is dangerous for humans, yes?” With great reluctance, Viktor shed off his own soaking coat, throwing it into the haphazard pile on his floor, his sodden shirt and pants following shortly afterwards. He had considered shifting, but he doubted that a human would be glad to wake up beside a wolf of all things, and so he kept to his human form, burning up with a mixture of embarassment and physical exhaustion. Slowly, he crawled into bed with her, pulling the frail woman against him under the mountain of blankets and into the crook of his arms, careful not to let his hands wander anywhere as he enveloped her in his own warmth.
He would apologize later, but for now, he needed her safe, as much as he needed to breathe.
“Yes, well somethings are too important to be left to a lacky.” Nathan rolled his eyes. He had more important things to be doing than to be making small talk with this girl. Especially since she had kept him waiting for so long. He waved his hand for his men to approach him with the cases. He had made them stand back incase she never showed or if it turned into some kind of trap. The last thing he needed was to end up in whatever sad excuse the human’s called a prison.
“Before you ask me about the weather, let’s get this over with. Hand over the money and you’ll get what you have been promised.”
Arabella shot him a serpentine smile, but didn’t take her eyes off of the imposing man before her. “Trouble finding good help these days? How...unfortunate.” She tilted her head ever so slightly, feigning amusement at the idea before she held up a hand and beckoned one of her own guards over. “We take special pride in training our lackeys, as you put it.” The vampire purred, caressing the side of her guard’s face, long nails grazing against the stubble of his jaw. “Perhaps we can share a few tricks outside of working hours, hm? It’s never too late to break them in.”
At the mention of their transaction, she paused, calculating. “Very well, Mister Luter.” She sighed, letting go of her guard and bringing her attention to the cases, supposedly filled to the brim with pure silver and...a little extra. “Given the value of this transaction, I don’t suppose you would mind that we verify the contents, yes? It would be terribly unfortunate for us to shell out so much money for false goods, after all.”
Mikhal was confused Everything seemed to be falling apart around him and every second he was becoming more worried that Carmen was going to be hurt. The fallen angel standing in front of him didn’t look like she was going to let him go anytime soon.
“I didn’t know anything about this.” He motioned to the madness around them. “I had no idea this was going to happen. I’m a guardian angel, I only came here to look after the person I’m assigned too. I don’t support any of this.”
Celine scoffed at him, wings flaring at the sheer ignorance of the angel before her. “Why should I have expected anything else?“ Of course he was oblivious, and undoubtedly the others were as well. It wasn’t a very angelic trait, to question authority, but it was so goddamned frustrating to her that he seemed to be left in the dark. “Have you ever, even once, thought about what they’re making you do? I can’t understand for the life of me why you would choose to protect these...these animals!”
She ran a hand through her hair, at war with herself a moment before she spoke. Regardless of her strong disagreement with his occupation, maybe she could find another use for him. “Look, I don’t give a flying fuck about your ward, but... if you have any inkling of where they’ve taken my friends, we might be able to come to an arrangement. Do you understand?”
