01-17-2025, 11:43 AM
The soft ghost of his voice finally irritated. She didn't care what Sasha did, and he was so hesitant about it he didn’t even finish his fucking sentences – like he was caught between waiting for her approval and the fear of her fatal bite. Oriena gave him the excuse to leave and he should have taken it. Because hanging around her was permission of its own, and she wouldn't keep her claws sheathed.
Fury roused in a torrent, burying the vulnerable exhaustion. Her eyes flashed open, dark with venom. Sex made no connection, she never let it; that wasn’t a mistake she’d ever repeat, with anyone. And she certainly wasn’t his to be concerned about because of one hard and very short fuck against a wall.
Her heart was racing in a way she didn’t think was normal, but she stuck a fist on the ground and pushed herself back up to standing.
“You can get out of my way. I can take what I need. And I owe Ezekiel a hello for the fucking storm.”
She meant to stalk dangerously close, knowing he was afraid of her – intending to cement it, or maybe just send him running back into the shadows for good. But her legs buckled barely two steps from the alcove. Her knees hit the snow and gravel, the jarring impact of her hands following a moment later. The freezing rain pelted her red-raw back with shock. Her arms quivered as the pressure built and she fought it, until they too failed to hold her up.
Suddenly she knew what was happening. In the undercity she’d seen the ijiraq first, a faint smudge of light to begin with, until it pulled on the darkness to give itself form. It had forced its way in, igniting her with visions that remained only in her knowledge of the power the ijiraq coveted. Afterwards she’d woken in darkness, fuck only knew how much later, the connection between them a furious and violent thing. A permanent fusion.
She’d never seen the fucking thing leave.
The vessel is breaking
It fights us
It fights itself
The buzz of its hive voice in her head trembled her with pain, stronger than usual. Between the drugs, alcohol and her own spite she’d grown adept at drowning it out. This time, it stole the consciousness right out of her.
Fury roused in a torrent, burying the vulnerable exhaustion. Her eyes flashed open, dark with venom. Sex made no connection, she never let it; that wasn’t a mistake she’d ever repeat, with anyone. And she certainly wasn’t his to be concerned about because of one hard and very short fuck against a wall.
Her heart was racing in a way she didn’t think was normal, but she stuck a fist on the ground and pushed herself back up to standing.
“You can get out of my way. I can take what I need. And I owe Ezekiel a hello for the fucking storm.”
She meant to stalk dangerously close, knowing he was afraid of her – intending to cement it, or maybe just send him running back into the shadows for good. But her legs buckled barely two steps from the alcove. Her knees hit the snow and gravel, the jarring impact of her hands following a moment later. The freezing rain pelted her red-raw back with shock. Her arms quivered as the pressure built and she fought it, until they too failed to hold her up.
Suddenly she knew what was happening. In the undercity she’d seen the ijiraq first, a faint smudge of light to begin with, until it pulled on the darkness to give itself form. It had forced its way in, igniting her with visions that remained only in her knowledge of the power the ijiraq coveted. Afterwards she’d woken in darkness, fuck only knew how much later, the connection between them a furious and violent thing. A permanent fusion.
She’d never seen the fucking thing leave.
The vessel is breaking
It fights us
It fights itself
The buzz of its hive voice in her head trembled her with pain, stronger than usual. Between the drugs, alcohol and her own spite she’d grown adept at drowning it out. This time, it stole the consciousness right out of her.
![[Image: orianderis.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/orianderis.jpg)