[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by betrayal on December 17, 2008, 12:01 pm
Message modified by board administrator December 17, 2008, 5:02 pm
He does not understand why he loses his hold on her - but neither does he move when the hounds round on him, angry and snarling. One draws too close before Ilium can stop him and he snaps at it threateningly, ears laid smoothly into the darkness of his mane, teeth gleaming bone-white as they close in the air inches from the hound's snout. It returns his challenging glare with a frustrated bark and sinks back into its fellows, eyes acid green and burning, watching him with its unblinking stare. The Keeper's focus snaps back to the huntress soon after as she parts the dogs like water, and anger simmers in their yellow depths.
He did not expect her touch, and when her lips connect with his crest he bristles against it immediately and arcs his neck tightly, twisting so that his teeth connect with the flesh just before her shoulder. They rake against her skin as he tightens his jaw, but the bone there is smooth and he cannot land the blow he desires. Snarling, he tries to move away and finds he cannot - the hounds at his far side snap and warn him into place, and he can only pivot on the forehand, still neck and neck with Ilium. He aims a nasty cow kick at another hound that jumps in too close and it streaks nimbly away, snapping at his heel.
You can't turn back now, can you? She asks, but he remains tight, adrenaline fueling the strength that surges beneath his muscles. She will feel it like a heartbeat beneath his neck, and as she continues stroking she will feel him grow colder, as Deathkiss embodies the impatience of its master. I wish I could save you. Will she never let it go?? Surely she must realize she is not the only one who has shown him tenderness; does she desire to join the others who thought it worth their time to be kind to him, and who now laid bare and frozen beneath the earth, broken and bled by his own hands?
I could love you.
And there it was. The lock upon the guillotine. The Keeper suddenly relaxes, and the lightning on his skin fades completely - all that is left are the remnants of Deathkiss, dripping slowly down his body like blood. He shivers even though the cold of his super does not affect him, and the hounds seem to grow silent.
"Could you, Ilium?"
His reply is dark as he raises his lips to toy with her ear - a possessive motion he showed any of those he marked as his. It was something that was separate from the Shard: an ownership that came with an equally deadly price. "You think there is any part left of me, that could even entertain the idea of reciprocation?"
He is laughing and the shard comes alive again, splintering its element painfully through his skull, and lightning arcs anew across his back. It is his turn to touch her, slipping past her as he does, muzzle trailing feather-light against the sensitive dip of her spine before his teeth snatch greedily at her hip, opening the skin in one snake-like motion. "I told you before, you are too late." He muses as he slips behind her, his shoulder never losing contact with her body as it brushes past her haunches; "We are what we choose to be and nothing more." His smirk has returned and he makes another laceration to her opposing hip now, jerking his head away as soon as the blood surfaces.
"But maybe you think you are different." He hisses as he nears her shoulder, striking his teeth against the soft flesh there, making a third cut against her skin before his lips reach tenderly for her neck, mimicking her original caress with deceitful perfection. His breath is hot as it crawls for her ear, and his voice is hollow mercury.
"The others thought like you, too." He remarks, amusement flattering the depth of his voice. "And Ilium, they were dead wrong."
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