Acotar and Tog [Discontinued, Will be deleted]

Lady of Light and Fire

He had no idea what it was about this girl that got under his skin. In the last two weeks he had learned one thing, his normal cold exterior was lost where she was concerned. His fingers moved fast to grab the tongue that was spitting vulgarities. He just needed a damn moment of quiet. She moved to disarm him by both knife and knee. He pressed against her hard, pinning her against the nearby tree.

He reluctantly released her tongue, knowing that vulgarities would ensue. What he did not expect was for her to spit.  With no forethought he bit her, a deep primal bite, a bite to claim. He didn’t have enough time to form expectations as she shifted and pushed him away. Even if he had had time to compile a list of expectations, he would have never expected for his magic to sing. He could taste the embers in her blood and the claim of another. Faint but there, nonetheless.

Before he could help himself he grinned, “There you are.” The wind and ice in his blood danced.

He spit her blood out, he had no desire to lose control again and the taste of her was not helping. Her blood for whatever gods damn cursed reason spoke to him, the embers called to the ice in his veins.  He still did not want to think or acknowledge what it meant for them. Lyria was his soul bonded mate. This wildfire was most likely his magical equal and they likely shared an eternal bond just as rare. And her gods damned scent.

He could sense her magic wanting to be released and for the first time since he was a child, he felt his magic wanting to dance and play. Her reaction was the polar opposite, she was afraid to play and was fighting the release, his magic’s call to her. “Let it out. Don’t fight it.” His body, his magic didn’t care as it pulsed towards hers, calling to play. Damn him. Damn her.

The forest around them erupted in blue flame. If his life had been different he would have appreciated the beauty of it, but he had stopped seeing beauty in the world. His soul died, the soul that would have appreciated the beauty of her blue wildfire died two hundred years ago and since then he just existed, waiting for deaths final blow.

He extinguished the flames, it was a surprise to him the amount of power it took. He didn’t know why he asked, “Does your lover know what you are?”

“He knows everything.” He had the feeling that was not entirely true. What bothers him more is why he cares.

“I won’t be biting you again.” A declaration. A line he needed to draw, she was a spoiled royal, a mere child in comparison to his centuries and she was proving it to him everyday.

“Even if it’s the only way to get me to shift?”

Did no one teach the girl about her fae heritage?  She viewed this as a bite, not as the claim it was. Cauldron damn him she probably didn’t even know the significance of the bite he just gave her. She wouldn’t know that the claim was not about possession, but a promise to protect and honor, to claim her as family. Cauldron damn him, he had no right to such a claim, never again. He could not tell her that truth.

“You don’t bite the woman of other males.”

“We’re -- not together. Not anymore. I let him go before I came here.”

“Why?”

“Because he is safer if he is as repulsed by me as you are.”

Maybe she was not as selfish as he thought her to be. She let go of the male she loved to keep him safe.

“At least you have already learned one lesson.”

He could see the question in her expression. Hated that he could read her that well, with every exchange between them the hatred was growing. Not because of who she was, no if he was honest it is because of who he was. He did not want to feel, he did not want his ice to thaw, he wanted to exist until the darkness claimed him and returned him to Lyria.

“The people that you love are just weapons that will be used against you.”

Maeve had taught him that lesson, taught all the bloodsworn that lesson. Connell and Fenrys was proof enough of that level of manipulation. It did not help that as she commanded them to threatened the loved ones of the fae that Maeve wanted to punish or sway to her side.

“Shift again, this time try to search for the wall and punch through it.”

He was pretty certain that whatever he had just said, she did not hear it.

“Are you listening?”

“Why don't you just bite me again?”

He would never bite her again, he would never lose that control over himself again. He had no right and no honor left to claim another. So he pushed her away.

“Why don’t I give you the lashings you deserve?”

“If you ever take a whip to me. I will skin you alive.”

Mala save him. He did not want this. He did not want a trainee that got under his skin. He did not want to look into those lifeless eyes every gods damned day. He did not want to feel anger, despair or sympathy. He did not want to be reminded of his failure to Lyria and his child. He did not want to feel anything!

“If you don't shift again, you’re pulling double duty in the kitchens for the next week.”

“Fine.”

“You’re worthless.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You would probably have been more useful to the world if you’d actually died ten years ago.”

“I’m leaving.”

He did not follow her, he could not follow her.

He did not know what made him say that. The worst part, he knew it was not true. The world already thought the girl was dead, and it did not make a difference. The king had broken her kingdom, she was believed dead along with countless others. The world went on, just as it had when Lyria died, when his soul died with her. He had seen entire kingdoms fall and already forgotten by the world. Every night he would survive the nightmares. Every day he would do whatever Lorcan or Maeve commanded of him. He had survived in darkness. In the rare times he needed a prayer, he did not pray to the god of war or to the god of darkness. No he prayed only to Mala, to the Lady of Light and Fire.