CONQUEST • Negan

N for No

I laughed.

Was it the right response? For a man like him, I'd say yes, definitely. Yet, I wasn't at all expecting that quick flash of pain to flicker quickly in his eyes, the warm caramel frosting over for the briefest moment, like a spark glinting from a lighter.

"You have me chained to a chair. You are threatening me with a branding iron. You have my best friend as your slave! You killed Abraham and Glenn! And you think I want to marry you?!" My laughing was hysterical now, edged with a rage that made my voice tremble, "And— and to top it off, you think I should be flattered that you're on your knees for me? Negan, down there is where men like you belong. You're pathetic." I spat.

My voice echoed, the entire factory floor stunned into a tense silence. I don't think anyone was even breathing.

Negan's eyes narrowed, "You realise I'm offerin' you immunity here, Sweetheart. If you're my wife, my people won't— can't touch you."

"No but you can, right? I'd be handing all my damn rights away to you and that is so much worse." I pushed as far forward in my chair as I possibly could, almost reaching Negan's face and seethed through my teeth, "I'd rather they strung me up and tortured me for days, weeks, than have you touch me or think you can call me yours. It would be a worse fate."

He lifted a brow, God's apparent gift to man brought back to reality, and asked, "Really?"

I stared, lip curled, my eyes narrowed on his stupidly dumbstruck face.

He asked slowly, "So you're saying no?"

"I choose the iron." I said without even the slightest edge of doubt. I would take it a thousand times over before I ever swore my rights to him.

"He must be good." Negan commented quietly, pushing back up onto his feet.

"What?" I glared up at him, "What did you say?"

"I said, he must be good, your boy here." He clasped a hand on Daryl's shoulder, and rocked the man into his side, setting him off balance. Negan then leaned into Daryl, "You see what just happened there? Your girl is so damn loyal to your sorry ass that she just denied me. That never happens. You really must be somethin' special. But now, you get to mark her up, scar her with my initial."

"Leave him alone," I gritted out, "This is between you and me. He has fuck all to do with any of it."

"No, but, I disagree. Tell me, how long have y'all been a thing," Negan was holding Lucille again now, swinging her loosely to point at both me and Daryl. I was slowly edging forward in my seat, in case he decided to pounce, I could somehow stop him despite being chained to a chair. But it wouldn't have been the first time I'd been forced to fight while being shackled. My legs were still free.

"We're not. I've already tried to tell you this."

"Bullshit."

I rolled my eyes, "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Negan. Stop swinging your dick around and just get to the point."

Daryl was as still as death, eyeing up his prey, but the rod was no longer in his hands, instead back in the furnace to heat up. This left him defensless other than his fists and his good instincts, which counted more for him than it did most men.

Negan let out a shallow laugh, "I'm only messin', calm down, Sweetheart." His eyes flicked between mine, "You were worried for me there, weren't you? Scared that Daryl here was gonna do a number on me. Hell, I don't blame you, the man has balls. But you'd know all about them wouldn't you." His voice was edged with a tempered violence.