The TwiceBorn

To Make Things Burn

“Brave words, Alora,” He smiled, baring his teeth at her.  “Spoken like someone with nothing to lose.”

“I could say the same of you.”  She replied.

 A low guttural snarl began to hum in his throat and his skin moved as though there were a horde of insects below its surface.  Still, Alora stood her ground and somewhere within herself she realized, sickly, that the only reason she was still going toe to toe with him was because it didn’t matter. Either way, the end result would be the same.  She would lose Islinn.

His hands blurred as he ripped her jerkin open and she felt the heat of him, hot and dry, as he pressed his smooth, unlined palms against her brand.  He moved in on her, crowding her, wanting her to step back.  To step down.

 Instead, she moved forward, pushing herself against him.  Fear sang through every part of her body yet anger kept driving her forward, driving her beyond what her mind knew was rational in this setting, in this moment because beneath that anger was a great sense of betrayal.

She’d thought she could ride in here and everything would be the same. 

 But somewhere between the loss of her mother and seeing Abigor’s face in the starlight…

 Somewhere between Islinn’s love and what she had just agreed to…

  Somewhere between her arrogance and her vulnerability was a sense of betrayal so devastating that it was only her anger that kept her from falling to her knees and weeping.

She wondered briefly if Abigor could sense any of that. Or possessed the capability to understand it if he could. 

The heat on her skin lessened.  Abigor lightened his touch and now his pressing hands began to slowly move across her chest, up and over the swell of her breasts. Alora drew in a ragged breath.  Abigor smiled.

“Starlight,” He whispered nonsensically as his fingers grazed her nipples and paused. 

“Starlight and ancient wind born before breath.  Part of your legacy,Alora.  And I don’t understand.”

He paused, his eyes gentle, as he lightly pinched and caressed her nipples until they stiffened beneath his heated touch.

“I don’t.  No I do not, I don’t understand,” He almost sang beneath his breath as he dropped his head.  Alora shivered as his tongue ran across her nipple, his spit thick as clotted cream.  She remained still but knew he could hear the panicky beat of her heart.

“Don’t understand at all.  Not you.  Not her,” He continued as he caught her nipple between his teeth.  The quick bite caused her to jump.

“I thought I did but I was mistaken.  Look at you,” Abigor raised his head and his soft voice became edged with contempt. 

“Nothing touches you yet you long to be touched by hands that belong to a girl that follows what you were born to abhor. Always the paradox.  But know this Alora, and know it well.”

His voice dropped to a whisper as he pressed his face into her neck.  The thick slide of his tongue slowly made its way along her skin.

‘You belong to me.  Never forget that.  And this little matter between Bune and Yzebel was left up to you but never think for one moment that it was about you. I don’t give a fuck about Yzebel and what Bune wants.  But I do give a fuck about you and your legacy.  So, be angry.  Feel betrayed.  Speak your threats.  None of it matters.  What matters is you will honor me and bring me what I have requested and you will honor your legacy by casting a worthy soul.  Never think I won’t take Islinn from you.  And I will devastate her. I will devastate her to the point of where she’ll long for death, beg for it like a gift from her token god, a gift I won’t allow her to have. Do you believe this? Do you,Alora?”