Loki's fall (sequel to loss and Loki)

Put The Lights Down and Leave

"No, don't you dare." I growled at Kustaar, holding the edge of a blade I'd managed to find up to my throat in blatant warning, pressing the sharp metal against my flesh as I swallowed thickly and accepted the swift death he would hand me.

"One step closer and I'll fucking do it." I apprised lowly, gritting my teeth as Kustaar raised his hands slowly, eyeing me up as If trying to decide whether I'd actually follow through or if I was just bluffing.

There was a moment of silence where it seemed every choice was being weighed strenuously and delicately in Kustaar's head. Then he let out a sigh and dropped his hands.

"Bit dramatic, love. All I'm trying to do is get you to put on some fucking clothes." He grumbled tiredly.

I shot him a sour look, before glancing down at the large t shirt I was wearing that barely skimmed my thighs in length.

"I said no fancy dresses, you twat." I growled at him again, kicking at the sea of brightly shimmering material around me before I made a nice empty spot on the floor where I sank to the ground, my back against the end of the bed. Kustaar glared at me for a long minute, his face shadowing with irritation as a sheen of sweat coated his forehead.

That had probably been from before when I was running around the room to get away from him, whilst throwing dresses at him indignantly. Raoul had just stood by the door, glaring at both of us silently and not getting involved, though I could've sworn he let slip the tiniest of smirks when I threw a silk gown on the floor in front of Kustaar and he slipped on it as violently as a cartoon character would slip on a banana peel, skidding across the floor.

"Loki wants you to wear one. All of Asgard's women wear them."

"Well I'm not one of 'Asgard's women' so you can kindly suck it, Kuz." I snapped. He gave me a long calculating look, before glancing at the knife still clutched in my hand. Then he gave Raoul a look and shrugged tiredly, seemingly on the brink of giving up.

"I'm going to tell him." Kustaar addressed Raoul sombrely, giving me a psychotic smirk before sauntering out of the room. My eyes widened a little as I watched the door swing closed and I bit at my lip, my gaze wandering over to Raoul as he watched the wall in front of him, a tiny smirk creeping up the side of his mouth.

"Tell who?" I uttered quietly, inwardly groaning as I resented the fact I already knew exactly who 'him' was. Raoul said nothing, only smirked a little wider as I let out a low growl.

"Tell who, Raoul?" I inquired again, spitting the words out like venom as a green fire flared up behind my eyes and his eyebrow twitched. Yet he still didn't spare me a glance.

Overcome with a vast wave of impatience, I let out a huff of breath and launched my dagger through the air, sailing toward Raoul's face. He of course, barely glanced at the airborne blade and sidestepped, letting it narrowly miss the side of his head and embed itself into the wall behind him.

Blinding aqua eyes finally addressed me once the echoing thud had diminished, his enticing glare stripping the confidence away from the mask I wore, layer by layer until his fatal stare had uncovered the crying whines of my common sense. Luckily for me-or unluckily depending on how you viewed it-, my stubbornness still had a firm, thickly woven veil over my better judgement and I still had the gall to stare him down over my heavy lashes.

"I'd advise you against repeating your actions, miss Wilson." He warned darkly, in a fatally low tone that should've intimidated me into fearful compliance. It however, only succeeded in awakening the secret, lethal attraction to such authoritative and dominating attitudes I unfortunately was burdened with. And of course, only challenging my stubbornness.