Until We Fall : Vampire AU
It was like all the air was being pulled from her, the second those fingers traced over her cheek, electricity simmering over her skin at the feeling. She did not want to admit it, did not want to say it had actually happened but she could feel as she pressed her cheek closer to the warmth of those fingertips. A shiver running up the length of her spine in the same moment the little whine of desperation escaped her lips, those fingers moving to pull the gag from her lips. She wanted to say it had been so long since she had felt any affectionate contact, that was why she let her captor touch her so softly. That she missed the connection between another person and herself that did not bring the pain filled side effects.
But those were all excuses to a truth that she did not want to admit to herself. A truth that, if she was staying with this honesty thing, was as far from the reality she wished to live.
Her chest rose and fell, a heave to the motion that she could not stop as the shutters ran up the length of her spine. Those fingers moving again to loosen the blindfold, her eyes locked onto multicolored eyes that she never wanted to see again. A face of an angel, perfection personified, with the heart of a devil underneath stared back at her. Those eyes deceiving as always, something soft swam behind them. Something warm and inviting, something she wanted to fall into, and could feel herself lean into that hand. Those fingers that moved under her chin only to make her peer up directly at him.
A low whine pitched somewhere in her chest, as those eyes took her in. A plague of emotions behind those lids, confusion, worry, and something else. Her heart was hammering as he pulled her up, her blood screaming at her when those fingers once again caught her chin, his thumb finger running right underneath the split in her lip. Those eyes lingering before drawing back up to her own eyes. There was actual concern behind them. A feat that she did not need to fall into but easily did.
Everything hurt, everything was sore and singing in pain. But she wouldn’t tell him, would not allow her dignity to drop so low as to admit to the leech what he more than likely wanted to hear.
She had not noticed her own eyes until this moment, of which she hadn’t realized were brimming with tears. The burn that settled behind her eyes seemed obnoxious now. She was terrified, her body shaking in his fingers even though he touched her so softly, his words nothing less than heaven on her ears. But still, her heart was in her throat, her teeth clattered as she swallowed, trying to push some of the pride she had, the little bit of dignity she still owned back up to the fore front of her being.
“Lucky?... That’s what you call this? Being bound and gagged daily? Being beaten, watching the person I want to protect be beaten? Sitting and waiting and wondering when or how our deaths are going to take place?”
But god, he smelt, good. His hands felt heaven sent against her flesh and his eyes had her almost melting on sight. There was something lying underneath it all, something screaming at her to fight him, something screaming at her to revolt, retaliate in any way just to get away from the man. He had done terrible things, left her to die and only decided in the last seconds of her life to spare her. No this was a man that would take her life without a second glance, a man that would tear into with a smile gracing those perfect lips.
Then there was the part of her that was yielding, yielding to nothing but the desire of his touch. Yielding to the comfort that was brought along by his being.
“In all respect, fuck you, your majesty.”
-----
The first thing she heard was footsteps. It was her first clue, besides the voice that had shot out, had answered the men who had brought her here with a hardened voice that resonated with the shiver of a leader. Instinctively, Ashlin’s head snapped up, eyes that could not see turning toward the sound of approaching footfalls, each thump matching another of her heard, every rhythmic sound sending her nerves into a frenzy. The sound of them stopped before her, Ashlin not9ing that though whoever it was did not touch her, kept a careful distance of a few inches between them, she could feel them, sense them like she could sense the coming of a storm, all cool wind and soft breezes along her body. Their body was warm, close enough that she could heard his breath, the slow intake of air as he looked down at her, her lips pulling into a thin line as she lifted her head slightly, a slight effort to look more dignified than she felt. Her throat burned, her body ached and her head pounded with this unknown poison racing through her veins, but she refused to let it show, refused to allow it to show on her Face
That is, until he touched her.
The next thing she could feel was fire, bright hot need, burning and vivid along her skin as she felt his fingertips run, lightly, along her skin. It was a soft touch, hardly anything notable but it stung like she had been slapped, the brush of his skin lighting up her skin like fireworks. She stiffened, feeling as he ran his fingers through her her hair, to find the tie that held the cloth over her eyes. She marveled, silently, at how he made quick work of the knot on the back of her head, the cloth falling away to reveal closed lids, ones that she moved, opened slowly as she swallowed thickly enough for everyone in the room to hear. Her gaze remained steady on the floor, violet eyes locked on the chaos of the man before her, taking in every stitch, every slight shuffle as he stood before her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he forced what he wanted out of her, before she would have to look up at him.
Her gaze traveled, moving up his legs, his hips. His waist, taking not that though clothing blocked her view of his naked for, it did little to hid the strength that slide under his skin. She could see it in his broad shoulders, wide chest, his arms and legs thick with muscles that could easily annihilate her with a single twitch. He seemed easy in his kin, something that warned her that he was used to having power, and he must have been used to using it, considering he held no hesitation to his movement, simply went in for what he wanted, paying no mind to consequences he might have or may he simply didn’t see her as a threat
Ashlin believed it to the later more than anything.
Ashlin was not…. Strong, not in the common sense of the word. She was small, weighing only about 100 pounds soaking wet and standing at 5’3, that was incredibly small. Her body sported little to no muscles, and he didn’t strike a very intimidating picture when you first met her. She had always been… willowy, waifish in terms of body, but it had never held a problem before, for her aim was more than enough to make up for any physical limitation she may have had. People say her as an easy target…. But you could not kill what you could not touch, and Ashlin’s aim always rang true.
But her aim did her no good here, and the man before her didn’t seem worried that she might retaliate in the slightest.
Her heart pounded, exasperating the headache that sang through her veins and made her whole-body ache, made her whole figure shake with some unspoken need, something in her calling, harsher now that he was close, louder now that his hands were on her and that she could feel his breath brushing over the tops of her hair. Her knees felt weak, wobbly, as she trailed her eyes higher, past his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Before she found herself staring at his face, dark blue locked with vivid violet as her eyes widened, and that need she had just barely been managing to keep contained exploded past her hold.
“A-a….”
There was no uncertain amount of distress in her voice. No uncertain amount of terror on her face as she realized the words would not come, her lips refusing to form the words that should have fell easily from her tongue. His thumb brushed over her lip. Drawing a sharp breath from the girl who usually had such good control over what she did, had a commander hold on her own emotions. She stared at him, his features, his face, all new but somehow she knew them, knew them almost as well as her own, and she was absolutely drowning in them, hair as brown and thick as the oak of her home town, eyes bluer then the darkest pits of the ocean.
Ashlin turned her head, yanking her chin away from him as she breathed in, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She meant to get away from him, to take a step back. But her body betrayed her, instead of moving backwards like she wanted, the moment she began to move she tilted, like something had pushed her, straight into his hold, between his lifted arms as her fore head pressed against his chest, her body shaking hearing his hammering heart just under skin and bone. It matched hers, at the very least.
She wanted to talk, to say something articulate to make it seem like she wasn’t just throwing herself at him. But there was something in her, something strong, powerful that refused to unbind her mind, pulling tighter against her thoughts the more she struggled against it. This need… It was overwhelming, and there was only so much Ashlin could fight after five days of constant attack from this poison in her veins, the one that refused to go away. Everything hurt, her body, her mind, her soul, and just being near him… seemed to make that pain edge.
“It’s Ashlin…. What have you done to me?”
Her voice was dry, hoarse from disuse and pain. She felt both like she was drowning and like she was dying of thirst, her senses overwhelmed as her head pounded with his heart and her mind, not nearly as sharp as it was before, not nearly as calculated as it had been before.
“What’s wrong with me? What did you do?”
------
Later, he would account his unraveling to the little whine, that little hum of despair that fell past her pretty pink
lips as she leaned into his hand, leaned into his touch like it was her only lifeline in a sea of despair that she could not escape. The sound…. Did something to him, tapped into the similar feeling that had been boiling in his chest for… days now, the aching feeling of needed blurred the lines between each day so that he could not accurately give a number as to how many days had passed in the blur of need, but hearing, hearing her desire something in him with just as much desperation as he had for her.
It was enough to make his blood boil.
It took everything in him not to take her then, to not take her at that tiny little sound and to keep his hands still. The feeling of her skin was heaven, silk, satin, lace and everything he equated with sensual desire and longing, but here it was, wrapped up in this tiny human slip of a girl, in one of the few humans he knew he would never be able to have as he truly wanted. Most vampires, who found a human they so liked, would take them, keep them as their own personal living blood source and servant until the end of their days. It was a fairly common practice, one his own court, their blood, their families were not immune to. Aiden himself had taken one long ago, and while Carson had never looked down on him for it, he had never really understood why it was Aiden, of all people, had decided to take a little wisp of a human in as his own, or as they were formally called in Court, as his pet.
Now he could, and he figured he owed an apology of some sort to the red headed bodyguard, but if he was going to be honest, Aiden would never hear it.
The only difference was, unlike Aiden’s, who had a long term dependency on him and seemed to wilt whenever Aiden would leave, who thrived when he showed her any bits of attention, despite the need that ran as rampant through him as it did her, this one seemed to despise him, hate his very being with everything she had even as her body was calling for him. There was a look in her eye, he mused as mismatched brown caught hold of watery blue eye, sparkling lakes in a thunderstorm that was the emotions she held, that screamed of her disdain, that cursed his name without even knowing it. It didn’t matter that her body was craving him, that she was leaning into him with the impatience’s of a lover, Requiem’s mind was far from broken, and that brought Carson a bright, vivid burst of joy.
That joy was quickly diminished by the sudden anger that surged in his gut, burned his throat and eyes as her voice, pure, soft, perfection, filled the space between them.
She chose to selectively hear what it was he was saying, answering only a part of it as she snapped her answer back at him. There was something seriously wrong with him. He knew, because her words on any other occasion would not have brought such a reaction out of him, and as much as he wanted to think logically, his mind burned, hazed over in rage and he could hardly see through the red fog that had built up around him. His hand moved, steadily, purposefully, catching either side of her face to press viciously into her jaw, feeling as her jaw was forced open, her cheeks, skin and fingers between teeth as he lifted, pulled her up, up up, until she was fighting to stand on her tiptoes, his eyes flashing with a warning most others did not see.
Carson’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his eyes narrowing as he held himself back from simply tearing into her like he wanted to. He watched her struggle for a moment, a second before his words came sliding through snapping teeth and bitter tongues, his hand crushing her jaw just slightly as he pulled her to him. Her breath was on his skin, and her lips brushed over his for a moment as he spoke, and really, it was the only thing keeping him grounded, from flying off the handle
How strange that she made him so furious yet calmed him at the same time.
“You’re lucky, because I haven't found it in me to kill you yet. No doubt you’ll make some smart aleck reply on how that is your wish, how you want to die, but you know very, VERY little on what I can do. You’re scared, your fear is all over your face when you look at me, but compared to what I can do, what i am able to do… What I exposed you to was nothing. Death by a vampire is gruesome, but Death from a king is a whole other game. We don’t play nice, we don’t have mercy, and if you think I’ll stop at you, you're dead wrong. I had to stop because One motion I made almost killed you, and You are lucky that something in me made me save you.
“You are alive simply because I wish it, you are here because I wanted you to be. I suggest, if you like the privilege of seeing your little friend again…” He turned her head toward Ashlin, the little human now in Abram’s grasp, close enough that she couldn’t run, even if she wanted to, jerked it sharply enough to draw a gasp of pain from her, which only enticed yet another snarl from him, “You’ll start appreciating what it is I’ve done for you. Any and all inconveniences in your life are drawn from your nasty little habit of attacking every vampire that comes your way, so, in tandem, Fuck you, Princess.”
Carson Dropped her face, letting her go so she could stand on her own two feet again. His hand moved, slid into his pocket to pull out a knife, the blade flicking out and gleaming in the low firelight.
“Stay still.”
Carson moved, grabbing her arms and pulling her closer, the blade sinking straight into the ropes that bound her hands and cutting them, letting them fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap. His expression never changing as he spun the blade between his fingers, a little flourish before he closed it and pocketed it once more.
“My name is Carson, and you have been claimed by me. Meaning your life is in my hands, if you die, it will be by me. I would say you don’t have to worry about it, but you also seem to have a habit of running that pretty little mouth of yours and getting under people’s skin. Not a bad trait, I like a girl with a back bone, but I warn you, there’s only so much I will put up with.”
------
Her hair fell across her face in a silky fall of brunette strands. Faintly shocked that he could see the individual colors, Abram could only stare at her hair. For one moment, he couldn't think, couldn't even breathe, drag air into his lungs. It was impossible, yet the hand he raised to the fall of brown hair was smeared red with blood. Blood that he wiped so tenderly off those lips. Red, not a muddy gray. His fingers brushed her hair back over her shoulder with exquisite gentleness, an instinct bred into his bones, exposing the line of her neck to him. She didn't seem to notice, working meticulously on trying to keep herself up right. Her skin was soft and inviting. Like satin. He bent his head forward, slowly, steadily, the fangs lengthening, the demon roaring, his body clenching. Her breath was warm against his skin. His teeth almost touched her pulse, that vulnerable pinpoint beckoning seductively.
Her blouse gaped open, revealing exquisite breasts, lush and full and soft enough to pillow his head. He wanted to slip his hand inside her shirt and hold warm flesh as he bent to her neck. Her heartbeat more enticing than any he had ever heard.
Her words were a melody on his ears, dancing through his mind as his fingers gripped the silk strand of hair, pulling back on them with enough force to snap her head back. His nose ran the length of her neck, his body crying out for hers as he pressed himself against the soft curves of her body.
“Calm, Khaleen. I won’t let anything more happen to you. It’ll all be explained”
She made a sound, frowning, still absorbed in her steady work, of steadying herself. Abram inhaled, taking the scent of her deep into his body. He didn't have control of her mind, and he was too enthralled to waste what was left of his control on working out the intricate puzzle. There was a nagging in his mind, screaming for him to claim what rightfully belonged to him. Something telling him to tie them together. And apparently when it came to his one he was a weak-willed man. He whipped up his arms, locking her body to his as his teeth sank deep into her neck.
White-hot pain lashed through Ashlin's body, danced like a whip of lightning through her bloodstream, heating her body so that every nerve ending was alive and pulsing with fire. The pain gave way to a dark, erotic, slumberous ecstasy she was helpless to resist. Abram was certain she struggled, but he was like iron, her softer body battering itself against his hard one, and he didn't seem to notice to the outer world. Didn’t seem to notice the screaming girl in the same room, he was internally lost. She felt the strength growing in him, spreading through him, even as her own strength seemed to slide away from her. There was a part of her that seemed to be separate, standing apart, watching and feeling in a kind of horror. There was fire in her blood, moving through her body, muscles clenching, tightening, going boneless, pliant in his ironlike grip.
Abram glanced up at the camera trained on him, his mouth twisting in a humorless smile, flashing his white teeth. With his eyes staring straight at the lens, he lowered his head and stroked a caress across the pinpricks on her neck with his tongue. That look would tell them everything. He knew each of them, knew their scent; he knew his enemies. Their stench was in his very lungs, and he was a hunter. He had gone from prey to predator with one small infusion of blood. It wasn't enough to close the bond, but it was enough to allow his fate with hers to entwine. They wouldn’t take her from him, they would not be taking the one thing in this word that he already considered precious.
He lifted the Ashlin's limp body easily bridal style, moving with a graceful show of strength. He had every intention of drawing his enemies to him and away from his family. But first he would destroy everything they had built out in the world. They hid their laboratory away from prying eyes. They hid their hideous torture chamber deep within the forest, thinking they were far from the law, far from justice, but he would show them who owned this part of the world, who had owned it for a long, long time.
Ashlin erupted into a wild struggle, attempting to squirm away from him.
But Abram only tightened his hold on her.
"Stop it," he ordered. "You have no way to escape. It is impossible. Lie still." His voice was a soft, menacing command.
Ashlin lay quietly, feeling the enormous strength in his arms. She fought down her panic, trying desperately to think. Her body had become lead. It was an effort to lift her arm, make a fist, pound on his chest. She was dizzy and sick. His emotions were swamping her, a wild swirling of dark danger beating at her. She had never come close to feeling such overwhelming emotions. They welled up like a volcano, explosive, violent, very intense. She sensed something wild and untamed, a predator without equal. Her neck must have throbbed and burned as she wondered what manner of demon she had unleashed.
He knew she felt the strength gathering in him. Felt it.
Carefully, he helped the small slip of a female, retaining possession of the woman by holding her body close to his, until they made their way to a nook in the room. He felt her. Every inch, every curve. Her skin was unbelievably soft. He bent his head to her thick mane of flowing hair, inhaling the scent of her. It took a tremendous amount of self-control not to bury his face in the silken strands.
She was very frightened, the fear swamping her despite the fact that he had tried to soothe her. Her brain patterns were different, the most difficult he had ever encountered. He caught her chin firmly in his hand and tipped her head back so her strange eyes were forced to meet his gaze. Her eyes were shaped liked a cat's, a deep violet in color. Her lashes were long and inky black color. He stared down into her eyes, a simple hypnotic technique that should have calmed her instantly, but instead he could hear the frantic rhythm of her heart pick up.
Ashlin tried desperately to regain her energy. Her legs were very heavy, her arms still leaden and he knew this without even having to touch her mind. He was the only thing holding her up. She was dizzy. She blinked rapidly, trying to find a way to regain her ability to think clearly.
"What's wrong with me?" Her mouth was dry and her voice sounded far away to her own ears.
“I took your blood Khaleen, and I took a lot.” His knuckles brushed over her cheek bones, his thumb moving to trace over her bottom lip as he watched her every movements.
Abram answered softly, honestly. "There is no need to fear me, I will replace what was lost." His arms tightened possessively, his body sliding over the length of hers so that he could watch those eyes that drew him in.
Her eyes widened with horror as he stared at his hands, the wrist pressed against his own mouth until he bit into it, enough to draw the blood she needed in her system. Ashlin drew in on herself, stifling a gasp as he tore a long cut in his own wrist. Blood dripping as she watched in a fascinated horror. His own mouth working over the wound to draw more of the life-giving sustenance from himself.
He bent his head to hers, her breath warm against his skin. His lips grazed over hers for a moment, before he moved his mouth against hers, nudging her lips open and pressing his tongue inside. She tasted hot, like spice and secrets, like warm summer nights and a midnight rendezvous. He found himself nudging her lips apart and pressing his tongue inside to get more of her, swallowing her grunts as she tried to push against his form.
Blood trickled from the corner of their lips, meeting the lilac pillow underneath her head.
