Private Tales The Price of Defiance

[Nikolai]

It was another hour before she was through with him, before she rose from his lap, smoothing down the folds of her gown with deliberate grace. Morrwyn did not glance back as she left, nor did she need to—her satisfaction was already written into the way she moved, languid and unhurried, as though she had taken exactly what she wanted and had no need to linger.

The door clicked shut behind her, the sound soft yet final.

Nikolai remained where he was, slumped in his chair, one arm draped over the armrest, the other curled loosely around a crystal decanter. The amber liquid within sloshed as he poured, the glass trembling slightly in his grip before he lifted it to his lips.

The silence pressed in.

His shirt hung open, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths. Thin trails of blood traced their way down his collarbone, pooling in the hollow of his throat, stark against skin that had turned just a shade too pale. The several puncture wounds at his neck still wept, sluggish in their healing, but he paid them no mind.

His eyes, heavy-lidded and unfocused, fixed somewhere beyond the dark wood of his desk.

Another drink.

Another moment of quiet.

It would pass. It always did.

 

[Sadie]

Sadie shifted uncomfortably, folding herself into the smallest space she could find, hands pressed over her ears. Her breathing came, slow and forced, trying to make it through the ache in her ribs until it dulled into something more tolerable. But it didn't dull. It only grew, pressing against the inside of her skin like something caged, something writing.

It made no sense- this pain. This sickening, gut-deep sorrow that had no name to Sadie. She had cried before. She had broken more times than she could count. But never like this. Never had she shattered over nothing.

Curled behind the basin in the cold dark of the bathroom, she let it take her. Silent, heaving sobs. Her arms shook as the crossed over her knees, pulling them in close. Tears burned down her cheeks as she pressed her face into the cool stone floor. She let exhaustion, sadness, whatever this was, steal her away.

In her hysteria, she didn't see it. She didn't feel it peeling itself from her shadow, stretching, twisting and reshaping itself into something else. But she felt it leave. Like a thread, it tugged at the edge of her senses, thin and fragile. It was winding away from her and into the house beyond. Into the hallway, and down below, where the silence reigned heavier than ever. Where Nikolai sat, raw and ruined, waiting for it to pass.

It found him.

It was nothing like any of the other creatures, the masses of bend limbs and too many teeth, though it was born of the same nightmare. This one did not stalk, did not snarl, did not hunger for his fear. It watched. Slipping soundlessly into the room, there it crept up close. A stretch of darkness with four eyes and too-long limbs approached him.

It did not bare its teeth at him.

It did not swipe at him with a paw.

It only sat for a moment, still and silent, staring at him before it curled up at his feet like a cat at rest and fell asleep.

 

[Nikolai]

Nikolai didn’t move.

He only poured himself more of that amber liquid and drank, the burn trailing down his throat, settling in his stomach like molten lead. The warmth did nothing to thaw him.

Movement flickered at the edge of his vision. His grip tightened on the glass, his free hand rising, fingers poised to summon the shadows at his command. A single word, a flick of his wrist, and whatever twisted nightmare Sadie had loosed into his home would be gone.

But the thing did not lunge. It did not bare its teeth or crouch low in preparation to strike. It only .. sat.

A stretch of darkness, all too-long limbs and those strange, watchful eyes, shifting like oil over water. It regarded him in silence, an unnatural patience in the way it merely was.

Nikolai exhaled sharply through his nose, his body still coiled for a fight that did not come. His brow furrowed as he studied the thing. Then, as if satisfied, it curled at his feet like a common house pet settling in for the night and keeping him company.

His muscles remained taut, waiting for the inevitable shift, the moment its nature would reveal itself in claws and teeth and pain. But it never came.

Why?

The question rolled through his mind, thick and heavy. Why had it been conjured at all? And why did it not try to destroy him as the others had?

His fingers twitched, a breath away from ending it.

And yet… he didn’t move.

Nikolai sat in silence, the weight of exhaustion pressing against him, until the alcohol finally took hold. The room tilted, blurred at the edges, but still, he remained, his gaze dropping to the thing curled at his feet. It breathed in slow, steady rhythms—unnervingly peaceful.

He scowled, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

With an abrupt push from the chair, he was up, swaying on his feet. The world pitched sideways as he stumbled forward, his path to her room an unsteady wreckage of shoulders clipping walls, boots dragging over stone and wood, doors rattling in their frames as he braced himself against them.

Then—her door.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t hesitate.

A sharp kick sent it swinging open, and he staggered forward, catching himself against the doorframe. He was a sorry sight, shirtless, dishevelled and bloody, his skin too pale.

Ilithore.

She was there, and his darkened eyes fixed on her with something raw beneath the drunken haze.

His hand lifted, a finger pointing accusingly, though the amber liquid in his glass betrayed him, sloshing over his fingers.

“Why’d you send that thing?” His voice was rough, thick with drink, though it did little to smother the demand in his tone. “Why isn’t it attacking me?”

A beat of silence.

His brow furrowed as he squinted at her, voice dropping into something lower.

“… It’s fucking purring.”

 

[Sadie]

A door woke Sadie from her slumber. She flinched upright so fast, her skull cracked against the basin she'd fallen asleep beneath. Pain splintered through her head, but it was nothing compared to the sickening wave that rolled through her body at the sight of him.

Drunk. Disheveled.

Bitten.

Candlelight illuminated the room just enough to catch on the puncture wounds along his throat. And the ones trailing down his bare chest. Small bruises marred the pale flesh around them. She had been thorough, the faceless woman, carving him up like she wanted to consume him. And he, as it appeared, had let her.

She felt sick.

She shouldn't have.

But she did. It was infuriating.

Why'd you send that thing? Why isn't it attacking me?

She blinked at him, her eyes puffy and swollen from crying, her mind sluggish with exhaustion and something far more emotional than she cared to understand. He swayed in the doorway, barely able to hold himself and the glass upright. One hand had been braced against the door frame, while amber liquid sloshed over the side of the glass as he lifted it, gesturing towards - no, accusing- her. But she had no answer. Her throat was raw, voice a useless rasp, worn ragged from her poor choices in food and crying herself to sleep over nothing.

It's fucking purring.

A sharp chill skated down her spine. Her gaze darted past his unstable figure to where the thing had followed, slinking across the room. Right into her bed. It was real. She had made it. And yet, it didn't bare its teeth. Didn't lunge or snarl or seek out Nikolai's blood the way the other's had. It just...curled up. Nestled into the sheets. Purring, just like he had said.

She shouldn't have said anything, other than apologize maybe. But the words slipped out bitterly before she could stop them. "Maybe it can sense that you've been bitten enough for one night. At least one of us was able to enjoy it." Her words were hoarse and brittle, like glass on the brink of shattering.

 

[Nikolai]

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed, trying to focus through the haze, but the scent of salt was unmistakable.

She had been crying.

His gaze flickered around the room as though seeking the source of her upset, but the only thing there was her—small, curled in on herself, and raw in a way he didn’t understand. The creature slithered past him, dragging his attention as it moved, gliding effortlessly onto her bed like it belonged there. It curled up, settled, and purred once again.

And then Sadie’s words lashed through him like a whip.

"At least one of us was able to enjoy it."

His stomach twisted, and he glanced down at himself, wishing he had put on a fucking shirt. His skin was bare, branded with the evidence of what she had taken from him. The bruises, the wounds—he wasn’t healing fast enough. She had taken too much. Always took too much.

And yet, his body had responded the way it always did.

Shame coiled deep, seething beneath his ribs, thick and choking. The only time he was ever weak. The only time he had no choice but to endure. And Sadie had witnessed it. She thought he had wanted it.

His face burned.

A dark shadow unfurled behind him as he stepped into the room, candlelight guttering in his wake. His eyes glazed, and his throat worked as he swallowed something bitter.

"Jealous, are we?" The mockery was hollow, the words a cheap, desperate thing to hide behind. His eyes betrayed him, burning too hot, too raw.

And then his gaze dropped to her throat.

Fuck.

He could taste it—ghostly, lingering, the memory of her blood on his tongue like some cruel, unshakable thing. No amount of alcohol, no other blood, could come close to what it had done to him. He could hear his own heartbeat stuttering, sluggish, struggling to work with what little he had left.

And she just sat there. Testing him. Pushing him.

His restraint snapped.

A sharp gasp barely left her lips before he was on her, dragging her up from the floor, slamming her against the wall so hard the mirror above the basin cracked.

She fit against him too easily, small and breakable where his body caged her in, his hips pressing firm against hers. His knuckles ghosted down her throat, featherlight, a contrast to the bruising grip at her waist.

His teeth ached. Like his hunger was a living thing, gnawing at the edges of his self-control, whispering to him how easy it would be to take, to sink his teeth in and drown himself in her.

His voice dropped into something low, something dangerous, something fraying at the edges.

"Why do you enjoy testing me…?"

 

[Sadie]

Jealous.

The ugly word sent a jolt of electricity through her, hot and unwanted. Her breath caught, mind screamed at her to deny it- deny him. But her body...her body betrayed her before she was even able to form the concept of such words.

She should have fought, should have gone down kicking and screaming when he closed the distance. But he was too quick. Too strong.

The moment his hands were on her, the moment he slammed her hard against the wall, her world tilted. She heard something crack, barely louder than the sound of her ragged breathing, but paid no attention. It was not part of her and that was all that mattered. All she could think about was his fingers, ghosting down the column of her throat and the horrible, curious thought of them wrapping around her neck. Her spine arched, a soft and instinctive movement that left her throat bared to him.

Teasing his willpower.

His grip on her waist was bruising, and yet his touch was so delicate with his other hand that it burned. A shiver rolled through her, involuntarily, as something deep in her chest tightened. Something primal, something starving awakening beneath this touch.

Sadie should have been afraid. Gods. What am I doing?

But all she felt was burning heat. His body, fire against her own, breath a hot whisper against her cheek. Her lips parted, inhaling sharply as his hips pressed into hers. As the full weight of him caged her in. Her skin burned, flushing bright pink when she realized, she knew, he could feel the way her pulse quickened beneath his fingers, fluttering like a wild bird, the way her body reacted to him despite every reason that it shouldn't.

A war was raging inside of her.

Why do you enjoy testing me?

A challenge? And invitation? A mistake.

She swallowed hard, trying to will her body to listen, to be reasonable, to push him away, to do anything. But her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his open shirt, her own traitorous instincts clinging to him rather than trying to escape. She wasn't sure who was breathing harder, him or her. "Maybe I want to see if you'll break." It was a reckless, dangerous, and terrible thing to say.

 

[Nikolai]

His body hummed with need, his breath ragged, uneven. He could taste it—the temptation, the blood rushing hot beneath her skin, the pulse hammering against his knuckles like a war drum.

She was reacting to him. That much was undeniable. It wasn’t uncommon—he was a predator in every sense, designed to entice, to seduce, to conquer. But fuck, he had mastered more control than this. He had to.

And yet his body rebelled against reason, straining against the chains of discipline he had spent lifetimes forging. The ache was visceral, gnawing at him with relentless hunger. Take. Ruin. Leave her writhing.

The alcohol blurred the edges of his restraint, dissolving it sip by sip.

His lips ghosted over the path his knuckles had traced, barely a whisper against her skin—so soft, so impossibly warm. It sent a shiver down his spine, left his lips tingling. He was so close. Just a breath, a flick of his tongue, a single bite away from tasting her.

She was clinging to him, holding on like she wanted this. Like she was offering herself up.

But he knew himself. Knew what he was. And if he started—he would never fucking stop.

But then her words cut through him like a blade.

His entire body went rigid. The air around them thickened, his hands trembling from more than just hunger. Sadie didn’t know what she was asking. She had no fucking idea.

Break.

Like he did under Morrwyn's hands, beneath her fangs, her body. Like he did when she took from him and left him empty, aching, disgusted with himself. When she made him a thing, a toy, a pet to be played with and discarded once she was through.

Sadie didn’t know what it meant to break. To be reduced to nothing.

His fingers tightened around her throat before he even realised he’d moved.

“I do not. Fucking. Break.”

His voice was a growl, the words scraped raw as his grip tightened just enough to make sure she felt it—to make sure she understood. He wanted to watch her shatter under his hands, to press his fangs into her skin, to take and take until there was nothing left of her but whimpers and ruin.

Instead, he shoved her back into the wall one last time before releasing her, pulling himself away as though she burned him. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his body still shaking as he turned his back to her.

“Get out.” His voice was hoarse.

“You’re free to go. Go home. Now.”

He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

Because if he did, he wasn’t sure which one of them would break first.

 

[Sadie]

There was no time to breath before his lips met her neck.

She shouldn't have made a sound.

The second it slipped past her lips- a soft, shuddering moan barely louder than a breath- shame filled her. She knew she had lost whatever this was. She hated herself for it. Hated the way her body gave before she could even think to stop herself. The heat of his mouth trailed over her throat, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every shallow breath she took and every desperate pulse of her heart.

Her lashes fluttered, fingers tightening on his shirt. She was trembling, completely unaware of anything except the press of his body against hers, the bruising force of his hand on her hip, the way she...

The way she wanted.

Heat coiled low in her stomach, desperate and aching, winding tighter with every breath. She could feel it, the sharp edge of his hunger, how he was torn between restraint and something dark that lurked even deeper. The world had disappeared, there was only the space between them, the way his breath fanned over her skin, to the second of silence before he-

Broke.

His hand wrapped around her throat so fast, she didn't have time to gasp. Her spine went rigid, fear lancing through her as his grip tightened. Not gentle. Not teasing. Possessive. Punishing.

Her fingers clawed at his wrist, but his hold was unyielding. She could feel the raw, seething rage. Could see the way it burned in his eyes as his voice scraped over her neck. A low and feral growl.

I do not. Fucking. Break.

Air vanished from her lungs. This wasn't the same heat that snaked through her moments ago. This was different. It was wrong. Panic hit all at once, violent and consuming. Her heart slammed hard against her ribs, lips parted but she still couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but feel the bruising pressure of his fingers and the cold terror, the sickening realization that she had pushed him too far.

Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, but before it could close in any further, he shoved her. Hard. The wall cracked against her spine, pain shooting through her wings as she crumpled. Her knees caught her as she hit the floor, gasping for air. Her fingers flew to her throat, to the ghost of his grip still imprinted there.

He had let her go, but it was no act of mercy.

Get out. You're free to go. Go home. Now.

Something broke inside her, confusion and something fragile threatened to spill over just as tears began to. Something small and stupid shattered. Something that she had wanted. Hope.

Sadie forced her legs to move, to push her off the floor, to turn and run, dragging along her damaged wings. She wouldn't let herself look at him as she left. The night air burned against her skin as she stumbled down the familiar path she'd tried so many times over the month. She moved blindly, not seeing, not thinking.

A sharp sting tore through her palm as she brushed too close to one of the thorned bushes, barbs biting into her skin. But she didn't stop. Didn't react. Blood welled from the cuts, trailing behind a short distance before it stopped. It didn't matter anyway. The forest was thick, the path unknown to her. But something had shifted. The path turned wrong. The air thickened with magic, coiling around her like invisible hands that twisted and guided her into something unfamiliar. She pushed forward, desperate.

And then she saw it. Her house. A choked sound escaped her lips, something furious. She moved automatically, tearing off the nightdress the moment she made it inside, hands shaking as she scrubbed her skin raw. Hot warded scalded her flesh, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

No amount of water or scrubbing or running would erase the mortification that something in her had wanted him and he had thrown her away.

---

The lantern light flickered against wooden floors, glowing dimly as Sadie moved through familiar halls. The bruises had faded from deep purple to a sickly green-yellow, but they still ached as the constant reminder of the hands that once held her tightly. This was the first time she returned to work in the middle of the night since him.

She should have stayed in bed. Should have allowed herself more time to recover. Her wings still opened, but parts bent at unnatural angles and sent shooting pains up her spine. Her wrist still maintained the nasty pink scar where she'd slit it to save his life. The-

A shadow draped in midnight stood at the end of the hall, watching her. Eluin. Ever the elusive presence, he was a name more often whispered than spoken aloud. She only ever saw him when he wanted to be seen. Which was basically never, choosing to correspond almost entirely via letters he left in the little study.

Tonight, he wanted her to see him.

"I must admit, I'm rather disappointed." His voice was smooth, soft, and terribly dark. Sadie froze. She didn't hear him move before he was too close. An ice cold hand brushed against her wrist, so light, and so deceptively gentle. Something invisible rushed through her. Her limbs went weak.

A sharp gasp tore through her as her vision blurred, knees buckling before she could stop them.

Eluin caught her before she hit the floor.

The world was spinning through her half-lidded eyes. Cold seeped into her bones, her body growing heavy and sluggish.

Her lips parted but no sound came out.

"You shouldn't have let him see who you are." Eluin sighed. "You've put yourself in a very dangerous position, little one."

Everything went black.