In Shadow and Death

003

TW,
sa

The sky illuminated with a heartening yawn of affection, it's flamboyant essence juxtaposing the disgustingly palpable tensions exuding from the lucent manor.

Her heart chimed thunderously through her strained rib-cage, a dreaded sensation billowing from mind to ear, a numbing ache to devise a deadened aura.

The galled High lord of the Spring Court loosed serrated claws, his loathing blatant as he unbridled heinous canines, "Expecting someone else?" He queried with a prerogative pomposity, his golden mane a brutish mess.

Merikh sneered up at him, swallowing that tangible venom in thick courage as she gritted words out, "No one bothers with me, why should you?" She deliberated heedlessly, the substandard novel now discarded on a lost page.

Tamlin dared to prowl closer, densely unaware of the wolf coursing his auroral estate, "Do you recall the words of your king?" He inquired, a nauseating glint distorting the gold flecks woven within a marine of silken emerald.

Merikh's silence was so maddening and humiliating that Tamlin raised a brow at the sheer audacity, a mammoth of a fist weaving it's way impetuously into her velvety tress, the brusque force veering back her head and exposing her dainty neck.

Their twinning growls billowed from the library's gilded panels, a vulgar force penning them. Tamlin only gripped harder, wrenching at her sensitive scalp until his unlit eyes and aureate hair pervaded her view.

"I don't give a fuck." Merikh snarled, the distress a blatant vigour. His other sturdy hand materialised by her temple, an edged claw steadily descending toward her graceful jaw.

Tamlin reeled her quaint head further back, until that teasing, piquant throat bobbed beneath his stare. He growled once more, tracing the wobbling with his nose, devouring her enthralling scent of jasmine and sandalwood.

He began a leisurely stroke of his tongue down the baluster of her working throat, unwavering as Merikh struggled and heaved at his exploit.

Tamlin groaned as he sampled that celestial scent, relishing in its eternalness, "I wonder if the rest of you taste just as good." He pondered disgustingly loud.

Merikh bared her teeth, as his repellent tongue pursed it's rejected blitz, leaving a succession of raunchy saliva in its wake, "Stop." She tried, her voice a hoarse demand. He didn't stop, his groans of unalloyed bliss stifling her grievance.

She picked up her tremulous hands, barging at the beasts impenetrable chest with unyielding force. "Stop it." Merikh beseeched yet again, her scalp alight in cavernous agony.

Tamlin paraded his malevolent canines in warning, dragging the sharp, ivory points along her tenderly working throat, in which oscillated frantically beneath the danger.

He knew that barbarous slave, Merikh Fremont was no regal equal, Feyre Archeron, but as Tamlin penetrated through her succulent neck, her seraphic aroma and chronic flavour had him hypnotised, the sweet taste unbelievably shattering and saccharine.

Merikh gingerly gasped at the distressing contact, her slender fists frozen mid-air. The pain was unendurable, a relentless flame searing her skin.

Tamlin pulled back with gratification in his eyes, a fluorescent redness leaking from his gruntled canines. Merikh blanched at the crimson that cascaded down her collarbone like a poised river.