He's watching me with such tenderness. While I'm writhing inside. "What have you done to me?" My hoarse voice rattles; the whisper taking all of my effort.
Because my body's weak. I'm weak. It's been that way since my brothers died.
Have I depended too much on someone else? I shouldn't have kept Kian at my side. I shouldn't have been here at all.
Complacency. It killed something in me. I simply…
I groan, feeling the heat like ice down my spine.
"I should be asking you, dear. Just what have you been up to, hmm?" Kian strokes my forehead. And smiles coldly.
I flinch. "Stop that!"
"Why? You like it."
"I—!"
"Did you know?" His lashes flutter; the ribbon tying his hair unraveling.
Aura dances between us; the surging tide cold. And shocking. It's way too familiar. Powerful. And strange.
I touch my chest. My heart's beating harder. Faster. In longing and desire.
A fire. A blaze.
And I'm reaching without thinking; finding his hand that's crawling over the skin of my wrist seductively—!
Barely a touch. And I'm burning hotly.
I try to catch my breath but he's already stroking. "To feel complete after so much isolation. Don't you feel it, too?" His lips brush my wrist—
And I writhe in pleasant agony. "Don't—!"
"Why not? There's nothing stopping me." His breath. His tongue—!
He's manipulating me!
I wrench my wrist away. Rubbing. Scrubbing. I open my mouth to speak—
"My King."
My head reels from the stench. It's here. That thing—!
"What is it?"
"May I…?" It's pointing. At me.
I turn my head away, grimacing. The blurry, image of it. The smell. And this feeling of apprehension.
The heavy.
Awkward.
Silence.
I feel myself shivering—
"Be gentle."
His voice. It's creeping.
"Yes, My King."
King. What King—? My eyes catch against the light hitting Kian. The air, it's tight around him. His Aura. It's dark. And empty.
The mystery.
I suppose he's done pretending. To be mortal. To be Human. My eyes fall. Do I even have the right to complain?
After all, these hands aren't quite what they used to be. And this familiarity…
But I tense at the sight of fleshy fingers tapping the end table next to me.
I look up, that thing looking down at me. My pupils contract. It's observing me. And salivating.
Those fingers. They're filthy. Rotting—!
And I feel the shock of that touch. But my hands are limp. Because Kian's holding me in place with his Aura!
I'm sweating. Struggling. But those rotting fingers blatantly fondle my cheek—
Then my arm.
And now, they're creeping below my neck to my chest—
How infuriating!
I'm glaring but Kian's eyes are glittering and that thing's hands are moving—!
I turn my head away violently. It's shameful! They're harming me. Stripping me of my humanity!
Though it's not something I haven't gone through before. I've lived through worse. Survived far, far worse.
Even as these disgusting fingers tear my shirt open to fondle me and those fleshy, bony lips are hovering right above me and its filthy, acrid breath breathes right next to me—
"Yes. It is coming along nicely."
"Yes, yes, indeed."
"But what about…and…"
I jerk. Because of the voices. Unnerving. Frightening. And horrifying.
It doesn't look up. Just speaks slowly.
"His poison, it's steadily dispersing, Sire. Your win—"
"How much longer?"
Kian's Aura tightens around me. And I grit my teeth, unable to bear it. That thing inside my skin. It's living! It's unfurling.
No. Stop. I don't want it—It's not me. It's not!
It soaks in his Aura, desperately drinking—swallowing—gulping—
Of course, it stops when his aura clamps against me. But the feeling remains. What use is this body that betrays me—?
Humiliation. Alienation. Peculiarity. But this body is still mine regardless of how I'm feeling. It's funny. Really. Truly. I'm laughing.
These tears aren't worth remembering.
***
I'm wheezing by the time they're done; my lips bitten and chewed through even as he releases me from these invisible bindings.
But that thing looks at me. Then back at Kian desperately. "My king!" It whispers. "Just a little—!"
It sucks on its lips. And leaking flesh drops upon the bed as it leans towards me—
A searing look. And it scrambles away hastily.
Panting, wheezing, I struggle to use my words wisely. "You—who are you really?!"
He leans down. And breathes warmth into my ear.
Then chuckles as I duck my head, hiding within the pillow. "So sensitive."
I rub. And rub. And rub my skin. This tingle, it'll go away eventually. It will. I'm sure it will. It will…won't it?
He walks to the window overlooking the alleyway, looking through it.
My eyes strain and strain—-
But the thin sheen of a magical barrier obscures the forms and shapes of the street. "Tell me." I say, clenching the bedsheet tightly.
"What is it you wish to hear, dear?" He's leaning against the windowsil; looking out.
What is it he's seeing? I can't see his face. But I can tell…
He's angry.
Well. Not quite angry. It's a chilling rage he's feeling. Cold. Controlled.
And calculating.
"Anything. Everything. Tell me!" My teeth are clenching. What he's going to tell me is something I don't want to hear.
But what is this manipulation of my feelings?
A chuckle. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I told you I'm harmless?"
"Hah!" Surely he doesn't believe we can go back to what it was before? But he's the one who kis—
Well. He's the one who forced me to aknowledge my difference in this world.
He's the one who's king. He's the one to blame!
And the one I need to follow faithfully.
Only he knows the truth. What those experiments were. He knows. And he'll tell me why.
Why my brother had to die. And why I, of all people, survived.