Private Tales The Loved and Lost Club

[Ilir Malennis]

Ilir's jaw twitched in several places as he ground his teeth. There was something different between them, between them all, and Ilir's eyes flitted over each stood opposite him. An alliance.

He had thought Cullen's will had been broken in the cells, that being on the front lines only shattered his resolve even more... but then Fedyr got himself a dragon and suddenly the fates on the front lines were changing. The Lord Malennis even thought that Nadya being so emotional and regretful that night she stumbled into him was the beginning of the end of Cullen Morvane. If he hadn't supplied her with more drinks, indulging in her anger until she was so drunk, she gave into Ilir's prodding as she thought to not speak what made her cry in the first place.

Idiots. All of them.

Even Greydon, a surprise to see here, but that only told him that Eira had a hand in this.

His eyes began to search the grass, broadening his search to look into the eyes of Drazhan, the Moon Dragon that chose his cousin. There, beside him, the tell tale sign of another body that had occupied it. The grass had been flattened, a smaller patch in comparison to the larger dragon. Tyafainne was a young dragon, still growing, and Ilir began to laugh at his realisation.

Eira had been here.

It made every sense, that his intentions were meant to surprise Caliar at least, to anger Cullen once he hears of it... but neither rose to the bait.

A different game was at play.

"Alright. I will listen to your gracious ask, Wing Leader... but we will be family yet."

Ilir could be described as handsome. Hells, his entire family inherited physical traits that rendered the game unfair in the game of beauty and affections. Nadya was not like the other women in high society that blush and giggle whenever his attention was upon them. She was someone hardened on power and proving herself. A soldier, not a lady. He had hoped to unnerve her today, but he will have to rethink his strategy.

What better way than to go after those she loved?

"I will have to call upon your father another day." He called out, already turning to stalk back to his dragon. Ilir did not speak again until he was back in his saddle, chuckling to himself as his lips curved at the sight of all four of them still standing where he had left them. "He has other daughters to think of."

 

[Greydon]

Before anyone could stop her, Nadya stole a dagger from Fedyr's belt and threw it an impressive distance that landed before Ilir and his dragon. The utter contempt on her expression showed how much his words had gotten to her, that his declaration was seen as a threat and one she will work hard into fighting him on.

She released a scream of frustration as Ilir laughed and in unison, the three dragons and their riders made a swift exit.

Murderous, she spun around to storm back to the Caliar home without acknowledging the others.

Fedyr waited until the front doors slammed before sighing. "Now I have to walk all th..." His mutterings faded as he turned to the other men.

"Did he do that? Ilir had his hands around her throat?" He could not help how his lips curled with distaste, that yet another family member he knew had done such a thing. Greydon's eyes were trained on the body of the moon dragon cross species weaving in and out of cloud cover.

"Let me rephrase that." He laughed, but there was no mirth to it. "He harmed the Wing Leader?"

Fedyr looked as if he was torn with staying and answering or walking off to retrieve his dagger. He ran a hand through his hair, the short length offering nothing for him to truly hold as he hesitated. "I... saw him do it. Heard him at first, talking... but Caliar was rasping. Couldn't get proper words out. As soon as I made my presence known, he stopped..." Fedyr exhaled heavily. "Marked Ones often are invisible, you know? Forgotten about to the point we see a great many things we shouldn't speak up on..."

Greydon now tore his gaze from the overcast sky and frowned at the blond. Then he looked to Cullen. "I cannot be involved any further than I am today... but do not doubt that my hatred rises for my mother's kin that I share blood with. Ilir..." Gods. He swallowed the saliva building in his mouth at the sheer level of hatred he was feeling. The memory so close to the tip of his tongue, he knew they would be incendiary. There had only been only a few of his cousin's he did not hate, but the reminder of where they all belonged never sat right with him. "Fuck. Sorry..." His expression was clear he didn't mean his apology. "Ilir stripped away everything away from a friend of mine until all she owned were the Marks on her skin. Marks he gave her..."

Drazhan neared, as if stalking around them to keep an eye. He was there, ready to help centre his rider.

"And I do not mean the same Marks you both bear."

Eira had spoken about one day killing her brother, to clean the slate of those that weigh the name Malennis too heavily. He wanted to believe her, he wanted to be the one to do it... but Greydon could not stain his hands with blood of his kin.

"He need to be put down."

 

[Cullen]

Cullen could feel Ilir's frustration rolling off of him like smoke, thick and cloying, and fuck it felt good. That twisted satisfaction, like warmth curling in his gut, coiled around him like a soft, dark cloak. Cullen had many enemies. He had fought men and monsters, stared into the eyes of those who would see him dead without blinking. But he had never wanted any of them to suffer the way he wanted this man to suffer. Ilir Malennis. His loathing for him wasn’t just sharp, it was alive. Something with claws and teeth and venom.

But when Ilir mentioned Nadya's sisters, the faint amusement that had twitched at the corners of his mouth was gone in an instant. Cullen had already been moving, fingers curling tightly around the hilt of his dagger, ready to throw it at the bastard's smirking face. But Nadya beat him to it and Cullen stopped mid-step. His gaze flicked to her in surprise. She had expected him to rise to the bait. He hadn't expected her to.

The sound of her scream gutted the silence that fell, and Cullen's worried gaze tracked her as she stormed back toward the house, slamming the door behind her. Every muscle in his body coiled tight, his jaw locked. Then, slowly, his stare returned to the dragon-mounted silhouette of Ilir, just as he turned to leave. Cullen dipped his chin low in warning.

Only once the dragons were gone did he answer Greydon’s question, his voice low and steady, the growl beneath it unmistakable. “Aye. He did. Seems to have developed quite the habit of hurting women I care about.”

He didn’t need to say more. The venom in his tone did the rest. He no longer cared about rank. About consequences. About what came after. Let them hang him, he'd gladly swing knowing that Ilir Malennis was in the ground.

At Fedyr’s quiet words, Cullen turned toward the younger man. It was easy to forget Fedyr was Marked. He didn’t wear it the same way Cullen did, didn’t carry the same outward scars of bitterness. Sullen Cullen, Nadya called him, and Cullen had agreed. But looking at Fedyr now, he saw something different and he sighed at himself, shaking his head.

“I didn’t thank you for that,” he said, voice rough. “In fact, I was a bit of a dick to you when I was in that cell. And, well… every day since.” he frowned apologetically.

Then his eyes returned to Greydon. His frown deepened at the mention of yet another woman Ilir had hurt, marked, and his brows lifted as Greydon spoke of stopping him.

“Get me the opportunity,” Cullen said quickly, eyes hard as flint. “And I’ll do it.”

 

[Dane Fedyr]

Fedyr looked to Greydon with a grimness that weighed heavily upon him.

He thought about his sister, felt the surge of rage at the idea of her suffering at the hands of a man that took whatever he wanted. Fedyr remembered the face Nadya had in the moments Ilir released her, the way she choked on air as her lungs begged for it.

He had always hated the idea of the Great Houses, had always heard how treacherous the Malennis' were... but he could admit not all that shared that blood were the same.

"And I'll lend a hand." Fedyr promised, looking to the two men. "I have been waiting my whole life to make a difference." To fight back.

He caught Cullen's gaze, managed a cocky smile as he shrugged a shoulder. "You can still be a dick to me. Always preferred you that way." And he winked, to add jest. To lighten up the mood for the three kf them swore to something unspoken and all the same known.

"I must join Eira. Tell her..." Grey sighed. He bid his farewells and stalked to whether his dragon waited.

Fedyr admired the scales of the Moon Dragon from afar.

"You go in first. I am going to fetch my dagger." And with a small, grim smile, he clapped his friend on the shoulder before moving to retrieve the dagger Nadya stole from him.

Fuck. She had a good arm on her.

 

[Cullen]

Cullen gave a faint, grim smile at Fedyr’s words—one that barely touched his eyes, but carried weight nonetheless. A part of him, the part that hadn’t been completely worn away by war and bitterness, felt a flicker of something like camaraderie. Trust. Not easily given these days, but deserved.

Fedyr’s smirk earned a scoff of amusement, and Cullen exhaled something that might’ve passed for a chuckle in another life. “Oh good,” he drawled. “I need to keep up appearances..”

He shook his head with mock disapproval at the wink, but the corner of his mouth twitched all the same. The moment didn’t need words, they all understood what had passed between them. Not just the promise of vengeance, but the quiet formation of something stronger than politics or blood. Loyalty, forged in fury.

He gave Greydon a simple nod as the man excused himself, no flourish, no farewell. Just a mutual understanding. They were on the same path, whether they walked it side by side or not.

At Fedyr’s final comment, Cullen looked down toward the dagger still buried in the earth, and smirked.
“Right,” he murmured. “Remind me never to get on her bad side.”

He lifted a hand briefly in parting as Fedyr moved off, then turned toward the house. His shoulders were tense again, his jaw tight with thoughts he couldn’t voice, not yet. He made his way back to her room, knocking gently before pushing the door open.

"Nad?.."

 

[Nadya]

It was eye opening when she had realised how easy it was to escape to her old room. This space was safe, and it was her own. Not even her younger sisters dared to enter it whenever Nadya had been in a foul mood, and all this frustration built up inside her made her wish she could throw something.

Everything in this room was sacred to her. There was nothing here she wanted to destroy to calm her storm. Not until Cullen walked through her door as a knock preceded him.

She whirled around, not realising she had been stuck in the centre kf her room, still and fuming.

"I want to kill him. Before he does anything to Stasya." The second eldest child, Stasya was perhaps the most beautiful as her innocence and genteel nature made her the perfect bride to any good man. Nadya's beauty was sharp as steel forged from years of training. Stasya was to inherit the title after Nadya would decline, ensuring her sisters had a chance in this life.

"He cannot have her. He cannot have anyone because Ilir does not deserve anything good." She was shaking. Livid. Energy wishing to go out somehow but Nadya swore to herself she would no longer hurt Cullen.

Or herself. No more would she sabotage her own happiness.

 

[Cullen]

Cullen paused in the doorway. The sight of her, rooted to the floor like a storm trapped in glass, caused his heart to twist. Nadya, so often fire and fury, looked like she was seconds from shattering. And he knew that feeling.

He stepped in slowly, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. No sharp movements, just presence.
“I know,” he said simply.

Not calm down, not we’ll handle it, and certainly not you can’t kill him, because all of that would be a lie.
She could, but he knew the consequences of such things, and he didn't want her to suffer them.

Cullen crossed the room, careful in her sanctuary. When he reached her, he didn’t touch her. Not yet. He just stood close enough that she’d feel him there if she wanted it.

“He doesn’t deserve anything. Least of all someone like Stasya.” he said, his voice low. He looked at her, not just the rage, but what hid behind it. The love for her sister. The fear. The sickening injustice of knowing Ilir would take and take and be allowed to, just because of his name.

“But we’re not letting him take another thing. Not from you. Not from her.” His jaw flexed, hands clenching at his sides before he forced them still.

And now, he reached out, gentle fingers curling around her wrist, grounding her without trying to cage her. “I know you want to tear the world down,” he murmured, eyes searching hers. “I know what it feels like…" His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, light as a whisper. “But you don’t have to fight this alone.. You have me.. And I don't want you anywhere near him.”

 

[Nadya]

Nadya frowned up at him. "But he came here, Cull. You think someone like him won't go where he pleases?" She stepped forward, needing his embrace as an excuse to move a d distribute that wayward energy into holding onto him tightly. "How do I protect my sisters from someone like him? They don't have dragons. They don't know the first thing about those in power and the games they play."

Cullen in his leathers was a scent she knew all too well. She had smelled worse of course, when thefe were days they couldn't wash off, but Cullen had been in the rain wkth her. His gear still held that memory, and Nadya did not shy away from inhaling slowly and felt herself loosen up.

This felt different between them.

This wasn't an embrace between friends, not when Nadya bared herself and told him of her feelings and intentions.

"I will never stop protecting those I love." She murmured, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "Promise me? That you will look out for my sisters too?" Nadya only needed the assurance he would, she knew he would. Her family had always been open to him, her sisters adoring Cullen and always provided gifts during holidays and his birthday.

This home was every bit Cullen's as it was her's.

 

[Cullen]

Cullen didn’t hesitate when she stepped into him. His arms wrapped around her with a fierce tenderness, like she was something precious and volatile all at once. His hand slid up into her hair, fingers weaving through the strands as he drew her tighter to his chest. He held her like she was his. And maybe she always had been.

“I’ll always look out for your sisters,” he said roughly. “And for you.”

Her heartbeat was wild against him. She was all steel and flame, and still somehow soft in his arms. Cullen frowned as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, his lips lingering there, like a vow.

“I’m going to kill him, Nad,” he murmured into her hair. “I just need the opportunity to get to him. And I’m going to kill him.” Cullen pulled back just enough to look into her face, his brow knit, eyes burning with something that had nothing to do with vengeance and everything to do with her.

 

[Nadya]

She would let him. Nadya realised that as angered as she was with Ilir, the kill wasn't truly her's to claim. She had ignited all of this with her own flint and steel, but it was Cullen that rose from those flames after settling to ashes.

"Thank you." Was there anything else to say? An apology felt cold on her lips, and worry for him was unwarranted.

She knew Cullen. She knew all those she trained with. There was always going to be a squad that stuck together. "I'm with you. Whatever you need." Nadya's bottom lip disappeared beneath teeth sinking into them, chewing on it as her thoughts came alive. "I promise upon my life I will make sure nothing happens to you. The heartbreak ends here, Cullen. That's my promise to you."

 

[Cullen]

Cullen's breath caught at her words, his heart beating like war drums in his chest, not from fury now, but from the sheer weight of what she'd just promised him. The heartbreak ends here.

He looked at her, really looked at her, and all the years of loyalty, longing, pain, and unspoken things sat between them like ghosts waiting to be named. But Nadya wasn’t a ghost. She was flame and fury and fierce, unwavering love, and she was right here.

His hands lifted to her face, palms calloused and warm, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones with a tenderness that he wasn't accustomed to. His gaze searched hers, as though to ask once more if she was sure, if she truly saw him, not just the soldier, not just the friend, but as more.

And then, slowly, Cullen leaned.

His lips met hers in a kiss that wasn’t hurried or desperate, but deep and steady, like the first exhale after a battle survived. He kissed her like he meant it, like he’d been waiting his whole life to, and only now dared to believe it was real.

One hand slid into her hair, holding her to him gently while the other remained at her jaw. When he finally pulled back, just enough to speak, his forehead rested against hers, his voice a whisper shared between breaths.

“Nothing happens to me?.." he murmured. And for the first time in a long time, Cullen smiled. Not a sharp, fleeting grin, but something soft. Something whole.

 

[Nadya]

This wasn't the first time they had kissed in recent days, but it was a culmination of movements that stole her breath. The way his eyes softened, telling her his intentions before he could wipe a thumb over her cheekbone. It was as if Cullen was not only orchestrating a tender moment, but calming every worry and frustration she felt like a thunderous cloud being blown away.

He stole her breath again the moment his lips neared, and her own parted. It was his, she thought, that he should have every breath she had to offer.

Her eyes fluttered closed the moment he claimed her with a kiss. It wrenched at her heart, twisting in her chest in a way she whimpered at the surprise. This was intensity. Her hands gripped him, nails digging into leather to keep herself from drawing from him too soon.

There was nothing between them now. No air, no space, nothing between their two fronts pressed together in unison.

For the first time, Cullen had stolen her thoughts, her words... the moment he pulled back and smiled, Nadya was struck by how he appeared so heavenly before her. She was lost. "Nothing..." her lips mouthed, the barest of sound leaving them as she was entirely too distracted, still reeling from his kiss.