Mine | Erik Killmonger

8

" The heart-shaped herb did that?" Erik asks as he rubs his wife's back," This all of it?"

" Yes, so when it comes time for another king, we will be ready," The shaman responds.

" Another king?" He asks as he steps away from his girl, " Yeah, go ahead and burn all that."

" My king, we cannot do that. It is our tradition--"

The shaman's words are immediately cut off by Erik's hand wrapping around her throat and bringing her up into the air with her legs dangling.

" When I tell you to do something, I mean that shit," He states.

" Erik!" Zhara exclaims as he drops the woman, then instantly goes to check on her, " Are you alright?"

All the shaman does is nod, even if her throat is now bruised from his harsh grasp. Those who remain in the room cower in fear from their king, even as their queen shows her compassionate heart.

The difference between them is so stark, it almost makes no sense how they ever ended up together. Zhara is compassionate and nurturing, caring and wise. Erik is strong and relentless, cunning and brash.

" Burn it all!"

Zhara helps the shaman stand, and those who must obey do exactly as Erik asks. They grab the torches and bring the fire to the plants in order to burn all of the heart-shaped herbs that are left.

Soon enough, all of the plants are burning. Everything. Fire is on the ground, walls, and ceiling, and Erik watches with a gleam in his eyes as it all burns before him.

He catches Zhara off guard when he grabs her waist, spins her around, and brings his lips down to hers, tightly gripping her body as she can't help but melt in his arms. She can't help it. Her mind and heart are at odds, but her mind seems to be winning.

" It's all mine," Erik smirks as he pulls back just the slightest, " Everything. It's all finally mine."

Zhara looks into his eyes as the heat of the flames begins to take its toll. Her body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, her head grows light as the pit in her stomach returns. She goes to respond, but nothing comes out of her mouth. Not a word, not a sound. Erik's brows furrow as he watches Zhara struggle to say something, to say anything, and he panics as she falls right before him.

Erik catches her before she hits the floor, but holds her limp body in his arms with wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart as the flames frame them almost perfectly, and Erik would gladly slaughter an entire village before he lets go of his girl.

If his servants thought he was scary before, they're in for a rude awakening, for the king will not hesitate to kill anyone who does not care for his queen.

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[ protective killmonger is *chefs kiss* 😮‍💨]