WIP Wednesday
Not tagged yet but posting anyway lol
Did someone say "Wyll as gothic horror heroine?"
Baby's first AU.
(With a touch of Toxic Wyllstarion)
The downpour beat a tattoo against the window pane, the wind a ghostly sound. But Wyll was exhausted, and the bed was soft. Oblivion wrapped around him.
Time must have passed.
A weight settled on Wyll's chest, a steady pressure like an enormous hand pinning him down against the fine sheets. He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to obey. Nor would his limbs.
The chill grew deeper.
This is a dream.
It had to be. There was no more sound of rain, no howl of wind or crackle of the fire. Only oppressive quiet and utter darkness behind his eyelids.
Wyll fought a surge of frightened bile in the back of his throat.
Then, a single sensation. The smell of rosemary and bitter citrus. The scent brought to mind his host, and the languidly hungry way the man had gazed at him. A tremor rippled along his spine, and a stray, wild thought. What if it could have been Lord Ancunin's body pinning his, hands splayed on Wyll's chest and those winter-sky eyes painted with desire?
A sickening slurry of fear and want roiled in Wyll's stomach.
A soft pressure against his throat in the darkness, then a piercing lance of pain. He gasped, sordid imaginings banished by a black wave of terror. A chill spilled through him like a winter stream, filling every crevice in his body with ice.
He trembled. It was hard to breathe, his fingers and toes tingling numb, his life seeping away.
Maybe this wasn't a dream.
The folk tales he'd once read so avidly were not all fey grace and mischievous imps. There were sinister things within those pages, too. Demons that sat on one's chest in the night and stole their breath.
Wyll tried to thrash, to struggle, but his limbs only grew heavier as the cold spread through muscle and bone.
Panic claimed him, animal fear, feral and all-consuming. Screaming in his mind.
This place was haunted, cursed, bedeviled, and he'd walked into the trap all too easily.
