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ᴠɪꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ || ʟᴜᴠ & ᴅᴇᴠ (ɴꜱꜰᴡ)

Devils Temptation

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 14, 2021
A good hunter knows his prey's habits better than his own
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CRUNCH.

SNAP.

CRACK.

Blood littered along the forest floor, bodies mangled and left to rot in the undergrowth. The way the hunters had been dispatched was never consistent. Some had been strangled to death with wires cutting into their throats. Others had their arteries torn out with claw or fang marks. Some had been caught in traps that looked no different than the ones that they had brought for this hunt. What was it they had been hunting...? Wolves? Deer? Birds? People. Or - rather - they certainly would not refer to them as people. Demi-humans. Demons. In the eyes of those hunters, they were nothing more than expensive animals to be poached. There was no difference between a pig being raised thick and fat just to be slaughtered and a demon growing older and mature such that their bodies could be harvested more lucratively. Horns, hearts, tails, fangs... everything from medicinal properties to jewelry to weapons - there was always a use for a demon. Those in particular that were exceedingly rare had, likewise, been hunted to near extinction... in fact that was one such case for a specific breed of demi-humans.


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So lucrative, in fact, that stories had begun about the illustrious breed.
Draconic Devils.

Capable of growing to immense sizes, towering over their human relatives by nearly a foot on average - they had sharper, jagged horns like onyx shards growing out of their hair and draconic, thick vestigial tails that acted more as symbols of status in their societies than anything else. Both fetched high prices but not nearly as much as the crown jewel of a Draconic Devil. Their heart. Potent resources to be used in batteries that could fuel magical artifacts and technology for centuries. Just one heart was enough to set a hunter for life, enough to make even the most veteran of hunters salivate with the prospect of getting their hands on one... but it was hardly an easy catch. Just like humans, they were capable of elaborate thought, capable of planning and fighting back. To even attempt to take one down or to attack a village of them was a tale that oftentimes ended in complete and utterly annihilation for whatever hunter had been mindless enough to attack. The only ones who had any chance against opponents like them had been specialists, hunters who trained their entire lives to take down those beasts. Even though seldom succeeded... but in the case that they had --

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Nothing was ever left.

Men, women, children - none of them were spared. The former two were always slaughtered first and extracted immediately. The latter was raised in captivity until they were capable of being harvested at which point their miserable lives were promptly ended by their captors. Humans that had bothered living alongside those beasts would follow the same fate. Homes taken and slaughtered on the spot... children taken to be indoctrinated into the same society as the ones that had torn apart their homes. That was the inevitably brutality of hunting. So long as there was a profit to be made, people would always find a way to make it. One of the most lucrative hits had been in a small, sacred forest village by the name of Aeston that was home to a mixed community of demons and humans.

Stories just like any other village were abundant here.

Children racing down the cobblestone paths, laughing, drawing along them while being chided by their parents...

Elderly storytellers huddled around fires telling tales of ancestors long before that founded the village...

Young men and women escaping out the watchful, prying eyes of the villagers to rendezvous privately in the woods surrounding Aeston...

Perhaps even a fussier pair of childhood sweethearts, one clinging all too eagerly to the other in spite of their differences in breed, or size, or age, or experience --

It was nothing different to what anyone else could have expected out of a human village. Nothing that could not be sympathized with, nothing that could not be understood by the hunters. Yet it was all burned down all the same. Aeston had an especially potent breed of Draconic Devils. Magical capacity well above even the most average of the demons and as such the constant attacks were too much. Inevitably, the village fell. Inevitably, everything was razed to the ground. Inevitably, all of the demons were slaughtered and the children taken... inevitably, it was just a thread buried in time with no survivors.





ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ʙᴏʀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ
0:00ㅇ──────── 4:48​
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

CRUNCH.

SNAP.

CRACK.

Rumors of a stray Draconic Devil had attracted the attention of a wandering group of specialist hunters... it was meant to be a hunt like any other. The younger huntress had been groomed to be an ideal killing machine but something about that particular incident was... off. A group of four hunters had gone in to scout the area and none had arrived back. No signs of their tracks, no signs of any struggle, just a deep emptiness looming over the bulk of the forest as if inviting the remaining dozen to tread in. One isolated demon was far too big an opportunity to pass up and so, against their better judgement, they sought to overwhelm him with numbers. What a mistake that had been. The deaths had begun to pile up almost instantaneously. A hunter that had been plucked off the vanguard with a sudden trapped noose snapping down upon his neck and immediately breaking it before the others could even look back to cut him out of it. Those that tried to escape were met with the same fate, of what felt like something inside their heads knowing every move they would make. Legs torn into by spikes, a sudden looming and shadowy figure lurching out to tear chunks of flesh out with surgical precision before vanishing, or for some terrified, screaming hunters to just vanish without a trace into the shadows. The corps began to whittle down until all that was left was... her. Someone who hardly should have been in a group like that.

With people like those.

Maybe she had memories of her own that did not seem to match the indoctrination she was forced through...


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Of a familiar face that would pop up in her head time and time again... of a place that no longer existed... of a voice that felt warm and familiar but painful and distant all the same. Could she remember it? THAT HARDLY MATTERED WHEN SHE WAS THE ONE BEING HUNTED NOW. The demons were a proud race that fought with pure strength and no under-handed tricks, they hardly ever resorted to hunting like their hunters did. It was beneath them, it was cowardly... and yet with bodies lying around her, arms and legs torn, some with their skulls caved in and others that had bled to death kicking and screaming around her - it was undeniable. That demon had fought, no hunted as if he were some sort of hunter himself. By the time she might have realized that he was there, it was already too late. From behind, a pair of hands would tighten around her throat with a harsh SQUEEZE - smashing forward to bury her smaller body against the tree trunk in front of her. A few feet off the ground as that towering, nearly seven foot monstrosity bared its fangs in her direction with a low, guttural snarl.

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...

Familiar.

In that moment of pure terror and instincts, maybe it was not so readily obvious but something about him was familiar. Darker hair, piercing red eyes. Black-touched horns that spilled out from the top of his head... he would look familiar, but also not. It was not her he would recognize him first, but rather - "...You --" - the demon spoke, mouth trembling and hands going momentarily slack as an utterly crushed expression would overtake those glaringly hate-filled red eyes of his. Dropping the woman onto the floor before he had completely wrung her neck, he would take a step backwards. His vision was getting blurry. Faint, wetter nestles of droplets accumulating along the edges of his eyes while he took the sight of her in fully.

Her statue, the color of her hair, the shade of her eyes, the curves of her face.

"Why...? Why are you here...? No -- it doesn't make sense... there was nothing left there so why the hell are you alive here?!" Aeston had been a genocide. A complete eradication of the population. Everyone who was once from there had now laid dead in the dirt. All except for... a demon boy who had miraculously survived the slaughter - and a human girl taken in by the order that had murdered her entire family and everyone she had known just to raise her to be the very same cruel, sadistic hunter that had ruined her own idyllic life. For a few moments he could do nothing but stare. Throat tightening and an insufferable itch erupting at the root of his sharper nails and the drip of gore and blood that were nestled underneath them. He wanted to throw up.

"D-Don't..." No. No, it was not the time for hesitation. She was dressed like them, moving like them -- "DON'T FUCKING MOVE IF YOU WANT TO LIVE -- your name... tell me what YOUR name is!" Slipping low, he yanked the dagger out of the scabbard of a lying dead hunter-- holding it right in front of himself at the far smaller woman. Please. If there was any God out there, he hoped... he hoped that he would not hear her name out of that woman's mouth. An ugly coincidence. He didn't want to know that she was alive, that they had taken her -- that they had turned her into one of them. He didn't want to end the girl who mattered more to him than anything else in the world from back then...
 
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They say that your entire life flashes before your eyes when you're on the brink of death.

Ah. This again.

Moments like these were always jarringly dreary for her.

Why?

Because there was nothing meaningful for her to look at. All that appeared in front of her mind’s eye was darkness. And then, there was his voice.

Live. You’re not allowed to die. Not until I say so.

For as long as she could remember, that was her sole purpose: She lived to obey. To follow the orders given to her and to do as she was told. This time was certainly no different - confirm the existence of the draconic devil in the depths of the northern forests of Frist, dispose of whatever gets in your way, and if you find the devil - harvest it.

At least 16 hunters had been present to receive this task. Each and every one of them had been ecstatic at the news of a draconic devil, for capturing one meant a lifetime of guaranteed luxuries and comfort. In fact, the Association was still profiting off of its raid on her home, which had been years ago. In human terms, 12 years were a lot in the passage of time. And yet, it wasn't nearly enough to explain why she couldn’t remember much about her life before the Association, though. In that regard, her memories were but a blur; one that was accompanied by explosive headaches whenever she did try to remember.

All she knew was that facing the devil was something she hadn't wanted. She had been the only one who didn’t express her excitement over the matter, feeling her heart tremble instead. And he had known it too, which is why his eyes had been trained on her for the duration of that meeting back then.

Even now, as her neck was being squeezed and her air supply was being cut, she could hear his voice. That wretched, commanding and terrifying voice.

Live. Try as you might, your life is in the palm of my hands. You’re only allowed to die when I tell you to drop dead. Never forget this.

This was how it usually went.

Whether she’d tried to take her own life or was close to losing it during a hunt, even on death’s door, he was all she knew and could think about. He was her captor, her master, her tormentor.



Iris…


What?


IRIS!

Who?

Just when she thought she’d finally die, when that final heartbeat echoed inside her ears––she got released. The unkind hands around her throat disappeared.

GASP.

Greedily and frantically, she gasped for air.

Following her release, she crashed onto the cold and hard floor, joining the mauled remains of the other hunters who had entered the forest with her. Her own hands flung to her neck in response, seeking to apply immediate relief to the areas that had been crushed. Every large intake of breath hurt, causing her to cough and for her chest to rise and fall in dramatic waves.

Why? Why had the devil stopped?

Whilst a part of herself asked itself this, in truth, an entirely different matter had her unmoving and rooted to where she’d landed.

Her name.

She’d heard somebody call her name. Her real name, not the one the Association had given her. The moment had gone as fast as it came, but she’d clearly heard it.

Iris.

She’d seen someone, too. A boy. Iris had only seen his silhouette, but every fiber of her being told her that she knew him. She’d known that boy–once upon a time.

For the first time, flashes of memories long forgotten had overpowered him in her final moments. She felt like crying over this. She really did. But her joy over this miraculous moment faded quickly. Her life was still in danger.

Slowly, she turned around. Slowly, her senses honed in on what was transpiring.

He was... he was talking to her. This devil was talking to her. No, not just that. He was talking to her as if he knew her. As if she should know him, too. Her gaze rose to meet his––and then her mind went blank.

Familiar.

From his tell-tale horns to his crimson red eyes––he looked familiar. And not just because he was a draconic devil like the ones from her village. No, those, she barely remembered. He was familiar.

At first, Iris didn't comply with his demands. She said nothing. The look on his face rendered her shell-shocked and speechless. She couldn't explain it. The longer she watched him, the stronger the strange and harrowing notion of loss overtook her. Something she'd buried deeply within her subconscious was returning to the surface. It frightened her, scared her even. At the same time, her rationale was screaming that it was impossible for them to know each other. When the Association had 'saved' her, no one but her had survived the attack. The monsters of Aeston and those they had bewitched had died. All of them. Which left her with three options.

One, he was a devil who knew of her story and sought to play with her psyche. Two, the Association had lied to her. And three, there had been another survivor of the genocide the Association knew nothing about. At least, not until rumors of this devil had reached its quarters. If the latter was the truth, then there was no way that none of the higher-ups hadn't suspected at least a possible connection to Aeston. Draconics were rare and special, after all. They'd pretty much killed all of them within their own vicinity.

It dawned on her then.

A draconic devil was already terrifying as is, which is why the hunt in Aeston had started as an ambush. But a vengeful one?

That's why the numbers. That's why they'd sent out younger and less experienced hunters, including her. To test the waters. To see if this devil was versed in slaughter.

Tch.

"Seven,"
she retaliated. Seven because she had been the seventh child to join her team. Hunters at the Association had no names.

Her fingers twitched and her eyes narrowed on the dagger in his grasp. How could she leave this scenario unscathed? What could she do here? Quickly. She needed to think of something quick.

In the process of readjusting herself, her foot bumped into something, and she held her breath. That's it.

"They call me––

Within the blink of an eye, Iris picked up a jar from the ground next to her and threw it at his face. It contained a potent, powdery sedative that could render even a draconic devil immobilized for a few precious seconds and hinder his vision. A cloud of it permeated the air around them immediately. Then she moved. She pushed herself up on her feet and ran towards the devil at full speed. No clever scheme would help her here, only brute force. Using his momentary state of impaired vision to her advantage, she body-checked him with all her might, which resulted in her on top of him. When the smoke cleared and the air around them returned to normal, they were face to face, body to body.


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Gone. The young girl from Aeston was gone.












Armed with a special dagger of her own, Iris held the tip of it against his chest, piercing his skin right above where his heart was. She was breathing heavily, her pulse drumming through her veins like molten liquid. And yet, her expression was hardened and cold; a mask she had perfected as a hunter.

One strong thrust was all it would take to kill this devil, to end this hunt. Granted, she wouldn't be able to harvest his heart, but ultimately, it wasn't the only thing about him that held value. His horns could be used for stronger, more sturdy weapons. His claws would make fine raw material for a pair of new daggers. His tail would fetch a high price at an auction. And his eyes––

She stilled.

His eyes. He'd been crying.

Iris hesitated.

This devil, he––

"Huh?"

Her vision blurred, and she blinked in confusion. Each blink was followed with more droplets of water that ran down her face and landed on his. What the hell was happening? Tears? Was she crying, too?

Before she could process this moment in full, Iris was whispering a name that wasn't her own.

"Astri?"
 
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Humans were insufferably weak. Nothing more than bags of flesh that could be splattered with just a few pounds of pressure more than it would take for him to flick. There was only one reason why hunters had gotten so far ahead of a race like his and that was the disdain for organizing to deal with something that should have been synonymous with crushing ants under a boot. These ants, unfortunately, had their sting. Gritting his teeth, the choking pain clogged down both of his lungs and a fit of coughs would have him preparing to wind his longer claws right through the body of the woman fast approaching him... before he hesitated again. More. He saw more of those purple locks, more of that familiar scent. Another choking pant left his lips when he crashed to the ground and that may have very well been the last moment he breathed. Dagger against his chest and a slow inhale of the clearing breath in his lungs would have him face to face with...

Inevitable death.

A blank expression and a weapon that could snuff out his life in a heartbeat. Maybe he should have just incinerated everything. Her, him. It would be better than his organs being harvested and pockets lined for those disgusting excuses of creatures. If only she didn't have that woman's face. If it had been a trick, it was the worst one that was played upon him since the razing of Aeston - those harsh, brutal few years that felt like every step was treading on glass shards.

What was the point? There was no fucking end goal. Just endless death and destruction - and maybe that was what he wanted at the end of the day. Dropping his hand to the ground, he would just stare up at the sky. Clear blue with sunlight leaking through the canopy leaves. It was like that on those days too. When life was a little simpler, when all he had to really worry about was getting home before dark to the warm embrace of a waiting family. Dinner table filled, bratty edge at having to wait a little longer to see his friends. Those small little details were blissful. If he was going have the life snuffed out of him, he wanted those last few moments to be thinking of something warm and kind. Not...


Astri?

...THAT FIRE IN HIS CORE IGNITED ALL OVER.

Harsh, unrelenting ANGER at the name he had once discarded in the past - burnt down on the same flower petal fields of his village. Long, sharp claws slashed diagonally over her dagger - shattering both it and the chainmail she was wearing as if both were nothing more than pieces of cotton stuck together with tree sap. It was easy to forget with the stature and shape of a human, but there was a reason why it took nearly a dozen expert hunters to take down one of those devils.

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He was a demon in the flesh. Pure, unadulterated anger that radiated off of him - as if warping his silhouette to something far more monstrous and chilling.

The last sensation she would have felt was a single fist SMASHING against her torso harshly enough for her ribs to crunch uncomfortably. Very nearly on the verge of breaking and had he been even a little more forceful, her organs would have splattered on the spot... but he intentionally held back. The anger he felt in that moment was not towards this one. No, it was the realization that made everything reignite violently. When she inevitably fell limp onto the ground from the force of the wind being knocked out of her, he stared down at her just once more. It was easy to see her again. Even as the age had done wonders on her beauty. Gorgeous hair that matched her namesake...

Low exhale as he fell to a kneel in front of her, palm caressing over her jaw with slow, adoring grazes.

"Iris... welcome back you annoying... fussy brat." Forehead to forehead against the unconscious woman before pressing his lips against hers inn a kiss that felt painful to even engage in. Digging his arms underneath her waist, he would sweep her off the ground and buried a single cloak over his shoulders before looking back at the rest of the fields around him. Torn, splattered gore and flesh. Lacerations of half-broken and splattered human bodies. The smell was so vivid it was practically sickening and yet he still took a deep inhale. To see if he could smell anyone else that was out there, still alive, someone he could get his anger out on. There was no one.

No one and...

Her scent kept fluttering into his mind, easing the overwhelming sea of anger that was eating him up from the inside.

One last kiss against her forehead before he trekked off into the woods, neither bothering to bury nor to spend a single second on the hunter's corpses. They deserved no consideration whatsoever, after all. The girl in his arms, on the other hand...

- - -

Warm.

Rather than the excruciating pain of being torn into, instead what Iris would feel was the warmth of what felt like something much more comfortable and snug than her armor. Crackling fire and the faint smell of what could only be described as 'sweets' would flit against her nose until she finally opened her eyes to be met with the sight of... her body, completely intact. Stripped down to her undergarments so that she could have been patched up. There were longer bandages running over her torso and along her arms, covering up any wounds and bruises that she might have gained over the battle... it was a miracle she had even survived when facing something so deadly. Surely whoever had helped her was a force to be reckoned with to run off something like him --

-- had her gaze wandered a little, the savior was seated right across from her in the very same room that she was laying down in. None other than -


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- one and the same for who put her in that state to begin with. With his top stripped, glistening muscles occupied the entirety of his physique. Firm, chiseled pectorals leading down to likewise distinctly outlined abs... enough for someone to run their fingernails over. For how many had gone to hunt him, he was practically uninjured at that moment. "You are up. Don't move... Iris." It was hardly a threat. Just a strong recommendation considering her body was still very fragile after all that and any weapon she might have had to kill him was nowhere to be seen. Disarmed, a rabbit would have a better chance against a lion. The crackle of a fire in the room would also pull some attention to the surroundings. Rather than a tent on the road or somewhere in the outdoors, the two were in what looked to be a bedroom with a fireplace. Comfortable blanket had been pulled up to her chin and the mattress beneath felt soft - maybe a little too soft for someone who had spent all her nights and days on the road.

"My name is 'Aster' - do you recognize that at all? What about Iris? You hesitated when you had a clear paycheck. That isn't something Seven would do. So... remember for me. Why did you hesitate?" Perhaps to her perspective, she was merely being toyed with by what should have been her prey... but he wanted to know. He wanted to find out if there was really something down there that had motivated her to stop, some feeling, some thread. The girl sitting across from him wasn't some designated number on a hunter. It was his childhood sweetheart. He wanted nothing more than to cling to that thought.
 
When the force of his fist prompted her into a deep slumber, Iris found herself doing what she hadn't done in a very long time. She was dreaming.

- - -


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"♩ Aster and Iris, sitting in a TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes––"


"Eugh! You guys totally SUCK! Astri, we're leaving."

Children's laughter stretched upon the vast petal fields as she took a young boy by his hand and dragged him away from the others. Embarrassment stained her cheeks as she guided them through a thicket of waist-high tulips.

"They always tease us like that. What's so wrong with us hanging out all the time?"

"Wait up, pipsqueak, you're going too fast." The boy tugged at their entwined hands, forcing her to slow down. Like this, they walked for a while before he broke the silence. "Did what they said embarrass you that much?"

Surprised by his question, Iris stopped in her tracks. In response, the boy bumped into her, and together, the pair tumbled towards the grassy ground. Grunts of pain ensued, as well as a few carefree giggles. She could tell that the boy was already looking down at her by the time she opened her eyes. "So?"

"W-what's the matter with you? Are you saying that you're okay with what they said?"

"Yup."


Iris was stunned into silence by the swiftness of his reply, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. "'Yup?' Aster! Do you even know what that means?"

"Let's face it. Who else will look after you if not me? Hm? Will play games with you because you and the other kids don't get along? Find you in our secret base whenever you suddenly disappear? Hold you during a thunderstorm, when––"


"OKAY, okay, I get it, stop it, you're being annoying." To reiterate her point, she shoved her hands against his face, feeling her heart skip a beat.

"Wanna make a pinky promise on it?" She frowned. "On what?" The boy gave her a toothy smile, showing off his growing fangs. "You and me. No matter what happens, we'll always have each other."


- - -

Tap, tap, tap.

Her ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Thick metal bands were keeping her strapped to a solid chair in the middle of the room. From her head to her neck, to her upper arms and wrists, to her thighs and ankles; she was securely locked into place.

"Let's try this again, shall we? What's your name? Where are you from? Why are you here? Be a good girl and answer correctly."
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After a long, shaky exhale, she opened her eyes to answer. Bright, white light blinded her vision. "I-Iris. My name... is Iris. You... you killed my family." She snapped. "Please! Just let me go–– AHHHHH!"

A sharp pain burst forth in Iris's head, making her scream and tear up. How long had they been doing this to her already? She thrashed in the chair, trying to escape the agonizing pain, but it was a futile attempt. She cried and begged as a pair of two watched her.


"You were rescued from a heretic village that was plagued with devils. Monsters. The Association will be your new family. You are Seven."

Why? Why were they insisting on such an odd story? What were they planning to do with her? Iris sobbed harder. She wanted to go home.

After what felt like a lifetime, the electric shocks stopped and she sagged against her restraints. He body shook and a bout of nausea overwhelmed her.

"Again. You, turn up the voltage. This next one will hurt far worse. What's your name? Where are you from? Why are you here?"



- - -

𝐺𝑒𝘩𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝐻𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟
0:00ㅇ──────── 5:09
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺



Her eyes shot open and her heart was racing as the remnants of her last dream followed her into the waking world.

Iris's head was spinning and her body was drenched in sweat.

Pain.

Every inch of her body hurt, but she was alive.

She raised an arm and slung it over her face, as if she could shield herself from such horrors. Her last dream had been terrifying. It was a memory of a time she'd forgotten. She trembled at the implication of that. Just how much
more had she forgotten? Both her mind and her body felt like she wasn't in control of herself anymore. A sob lodged itself in her throat. She forced it back. No.


"You are up. Don't move... Iris."

She froze. There it was again. Her name. She couldn't remember who had given it to her, but she rememebered it now. That's who she used to be––Iris.

Where the hell was she?

She removed her arm and turned her head. She didn't recognize anything. From the rich, four-poster bed, to the plush furniture and the comely fireplace, none of it. She suddenly became nauseous. The dimly lit room started to bear down on her, making it difficult for her to breathe. Anxiety crawled up her throat as the sensation grew, but when she turned her head yet again, it all faded away.

... She saw him.

There he was. The boy from her dreams.

Just how much of what she'd seen had been real? How much of it did she want to be real?

"You... know me." Instead of properly engaging with what he said, she voiced her thoughts as she processed her current situation. "And I know you. Aster." Her voice sounded strained and pitiful, even to her own ears. "You...," she looked down at herself. Although her body was covered by a blanket, she could feel the bandages. All of this––it was more than she was used to. Nobody usually cared for whether she was injured or not; it was every man and woman for themselves. Bloodshed was the Association's ever demanding mistress and they her devoted servants, after all.

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"You care for me."

Despite her common sense telling her otherwise, she sat up, swinging her bare legs over the edge of the bed. The dull pain that spread all over her limbs from there had her face twist in agony.

At this point, any sane human would have ran for the hills. She'd watched this devil dismember others that were like her. And yet, it didn't deter her from quenching the insatiable thirst for answers that was threatening to split her mind into two. So she pressed on. She pushed herself on her feet and began to approach him slowly.

For the first time in a long time, Iris felt stripped of her role as a hunter. No weapons were at her disposal here with which she could possibly defend herself. Not against an opponent like him. Although she wasn't a small woman at all and taller than most of her peers, she was a small woman in the face of a nearly seven foot creature. This fact became more abundantly clear the closer she got to him. When she finally stood right in front of him, Iris shuddered, though not because she felt cold. No, the crackling fire made sure of that.

It was his eyes. Piercing, as if he saw right through her. Knowing, as if he understood her more than she did herself. And predatory, as if she was prey for him to exploit.

"Who are you to me?" She raised a hand. Not to hurt, not to injure, not to kill––but to hold. "Who were we to each other?" She caught a strand of his black hair. It was long, much longer than in her dreams. He'd changed by a lot. But so had she, hadn't she? Whereas Iris's hair used to be short, it was now falling freely behind her back. The soft contours of her face had become sharper and more lethal. Her lanky body was now deceptively shapely and perfectly womanly.

"You were angry enough to kill me where you have found me. Why didn't you? Why keep me?"
 
You... know me.

Softened expression in that moment like crystalized sugar melting into a sweeter flood. Intense, pointed eyes nestled into slower, downward eased outlines and the faint tremble of his lip would tuck into a halfway expression between a grimace and a moment of relief. "More than you could ever know... I know. I know who you are. I knew what you loved. I knew what your favorite places were, your favorite foods... I knew what made you smile and what made you cry." Every single detail he could recite off like he was reading it off a script. Every memory that she felt so deeply, he too had in his heart. Unlike her who had been buried in propaganda, poisoned by those that sought to turn the demihumans against their neighbors, their friends, their families - he understood the real truth of what had happened at Aeston and in that moment he could only ache in memory of it all.

You care for me.

"I love you more than I can put into words. So much so that it hurts sometimes." Calm tone. He spoke peacefully though his heart clenched as if it would burst at any given moment. Every low, soft word he shared with her felt like he was ripping open another gash. Another mess of emotions, another trickle of what felt like tears cutting against his eyes. Somehow, he would manage to choke them back while watching her. Even if the Iris he so dearly adored had been long gone, just seeing her like this felt as if her memory was alive. That she was here, in this moment, with him - everything in the world was no longer fire and blood but a field of deep purple flowers...

For a hunter, holding a hand out to a wolf was begging for it to be torn from her wrist. Aster certainly had the capability to do it... and yet instead she felt the warmth of his firmer, stronger jaw tucking right against her hand after that brief brush and caress of his hair. "I might be nothing to you now. There was a time we grew up together. Our families had us in the same winter. You were a small runt, I grew unusually fast even for draconic standards... and you, like a little duckling, constantly followed me around. Aeston. That was your... our home." When he recited the name of that village, his fangs bared themselves and the sharper hint of red fury seemed to spark in his eyes just for a faint reflection of those purple locks to make that rage slip away all over again. One deep, shaky exhale would have him leaning just a little closer.

It might have just been a play. Just a trick to get him to lower his guard... but that was the first warmth he had felt in years. A reminder of home. Of what it meant to love someone.


You were angry enough to kill me where you have found me.
Why didn't you?
Why keep me?

Flash of black as he suddenly lurched towards her, it felt as that he was going to make good on her words - why keep some filthy hunter alive? Instead of a fist through her chest or a crunch of her neck, she found herself pinned down to the bed with the much larger beast of a man wrapping both his hands over her wrists to pin them down to the bed. "You are mine. That is why I kept you. You are my family. You are someone I love and adore. There is no other reason for me to risk my life for yours. I love you, Iris. Now... and forever. In every life, in every setting. That will never change. Never." Pure conviction in those words, even as he leaned ever closer to admire how she had changed. While still small, there was no reason to call her a runt at this point. In every way she had grown into a proper woman, soft in all the right places while rounding out the outline of those covers in all those ways of feminine beauty.

"Your hair became even prettier than it used to be." Aster noted, leaning down closer to where it fell against her nape. Instead of caressing through those strands, he tucked his lips against her neck with a trail of kisses reaching down to her shoulders. One deep inhale. Her scent did not change even if everything else might have. Immediately a low, approving rumble in his throat and the warmth of his body would spike. Dilated eyes that stared her down like she was the most delectable morsel he had ever laid eyes on... though he wasn't hungry in the traditional sense upon looking at her. No, it was something much deeper and far more fundamental.

...

Very nearly, he took her in that moment - a hair's width away before he pried himself off of her from the top and instead wrapped his bulkier arms around her waist to bury her face first against his chest. One hand nestled to her hair and the other gently slid down her back. Briefly, he cupped against her rear to sit her atop a straddle on his lap and right there with his chin resting atop her shoulder he spoke low, deep words into her ear. Every so often that reminder of what he was shone through in the way he seemed to unintentionally growl in his words. "What memory do you want me to paint back in your mind, my little Iris? Do you want to know of how we met? Who your parents were? Our favorite spot in Aeston...? Or..." Caressing her hair, he pressed another kiss to her neck and the arms around her grew more possessive and tighter around her waist.

"...Should I instead tell you of the now? How gorgeous you've become... how desperately I want nothing more than to hold you. Of what I am now... of what I fight for now. The ways I have changed... and the ways you have. I wish I could have seen you grow up and yet..." Firm, strong muscle that pressed against her softer body from the front - nearly flattening her chest with how closely he buried her against his body. Both of his hands grasped against her cheek and he leaned forward to tuck his forehead against her own, noses briefly grazing against one another in the process. "...you've gone and become more lovely than anyone in Aeston. You make my instincts ache. You make my heart hurt. You make my body heat up. My little Iris..." Possessive, low rumble against her ear once more. At one point she had been hunting his kind - that overwhelming fire their mannerisms exuded was strictly for violence.

Not for... this.

The way he admired her, savored her, craved her in ways that felt as if she were the most perfect treasure in the world. Even from birth, he had already staked his claim on that little runt of a girl. She was his treasure. So, when she was taken from him... possibly even killed - there was nothing left put pure wrath. Now? There was still a reason to live. That which was most valuable still existed in this world for him.
 
Love.

When the mention of love fluttered against her ears, it was as if the world fell silent around her.

Love.

This––thing, said he loved her.

Iris was at loss for words.

Love was a foreign concept to someone like her. It simply didn't exist in her world. It couldn't.

She'd killed lovers in the past. That had been her first, fleeting encounter with it. She'd captured a pair of vampiric lovers and watched them burn together as the rising sun scorched their ugly remains into piles of ash. Even up until the very last second, they'd embraced each other, whispering sweet nothings and exchanging promises of finding each other in another lifetime again. It had struck a deep chord within her; made her wonder how it would feel to adore somebody to such lengths. Such thoughts were quickly snuffed by her rigorous upbringing however. The damned had no souls. There was no way that they could feel. These two specifically had killed countless of humans for their own pleasure.

It was a charade.

I love you, Iris.


She'd barely responded to him pushing her toward the bed. Her state of undress had hardly mattered to her either, though it all should have felt alarming to her. It had become a habit of hers to numb herself in the face of danger; it was unnatural, twisted and completely by design. The only thing that was truly capable of instilling a sense of fear into her were the consequences of failure.

And yet, with each time that he uttered that single word to her, her anxiety grew.
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Laying underneath him at last had the same effect as someone dumping a bucket of ice over her head; one closer look into Aster's eyes was enough to chase away her usual numbness. The fevor in his gaze began to tug at the shackles of her deeply-rooted conditioning. There was a moment of awakening, of realization: Iris felt alive. Intrinsically seen. Not as a pawn to be used or like an expendable tool, but as––a person. No, a woman. For better or worse.

She sensed emotions in him that spoke to parts of her own that had lain dormant. Parts of her that she'd discarded as weaknesses for the sake of survival. And that, in and of itself, was terrifying.

It was frightening.

Clinical, detached thinking was replaced by a single growing sense of awareness. Like a spreading wildfire, it rekindled her sense for intimacy and self-consciousness. She became aware of their current position. Of him. Of her. And all of a sudden, he scared her. But not in a traditional sense. Aster was, in objective terms, her polar opposite. A natural, perfect predator; fangs made for biting and tearing, claws made for ripping and shredding, a tail capable of both defense and offense. Raw strength and power radiated off of him in waves. Every ripple of muscle was a testament to the power that lurked underneath. None of these things mattered in that moment though. What set him apart from all the other beasts she had hunted in the past, or anyone else really, was this––she acknowledged him as a man. A living, breathing and feeling man. One marked by desperation. A man who had lost his beloved. A man who looked at her as if she was the single most precious treasure in the world. Someone to cherish, someone to hold.

Her heart clenched painfully at another realization.

No.

He didn't love her.

She buried her face in his warmth and dug her fingers into his firm shoulders, feeling heady with his scent for a moment. Amber, and woodsy.

Aster didn't love her. He loved a version of her that had long died. He was deluding himself. What he held in his arms was a monster. The irony of it hit her. Countless of lives had found their end by her hands. Cold-blooded murder followed her in her wake. She was not the girl he fell in love with, not the girl he once adored. She was not the love he knew before. He clearly needed to be shown that. Whatever he was doing to her, she needed to put an end to it, for both of their sakes.

"You've seen it, haven't you?"
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She leaned back on his lap, putting some distance between her face and his. And what a ravishing face it was. The dim light did little to blanket his features; the sharp angles of his jawline, strikingly clear eyes, each one like its own ruby galaxy. She planted her hands against his chest, signaling for him to move back a little. Under different circumstances, it could have looked like she was his impatient lover, ready to ride him. Instead, Iris loosened the bandages covering her upper body by tugging at the knot on her shoulder that held them together. Within seconds, she was nearly naked save for that little bit of modesty that covered her womanhood, leaving her ample breasts on full display now. Soft, round, and more than a handful. She wasn't trying to seduce him, however. She gestured to a symbol that had been branded on her skin, right above where her heart was. A rune of ownership.

"Do you know what this means?" Her fingers ghosted over it, and she grimaced, as if it hurt.
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"Nothing matters. Where I come from, who I used to be, who my family was. You. Me. None of it."

Different kinds of magics existed in their world. Arcane magic, dark magic, runic magic, the latter commonly used by humans because they lacked any innate magical abilities of their own.

"Hunting for a living has never brought me joy." Grim. What a daunting revelation. She voiced something that she'd never dared to say before. It went against her entire reason for living. "Living as a hunter has been a miserable existence. I hurt more lives than I can count on my hands." At one point in her life, Iris had truly believed that her actions were justified. Honorable. Righteous.

"Where I come from now, my life isn't worth much. I'm not in control of it. You're talking to a woman on borrowed time." This was the Association's biggest, darkest secret. To the eye of the public, it was an organization that served to protect its own kind. Protectors. Heroes. Punishers of evil. Guardians of human life and human existence in a world that was full with a variety of races. Races that were superior to them in every way. And yet, it was the Association's own people whose lives were trampled upon with nearly no regard for their rights. Most of them were loyal puppets, forced into submission and obedience through devilish means. Quite literally––they'd stolen forbidden magic from devils. The kind that bound one life to another in a one-sided manner.

"Every moment you spent with me will bring you closer to your own death. This rune will lead them to you for as long as you keep me alive."

She could see the goodness in him. A kind of purity that she no longer had. Hope.

Iris smiled at him then, broken in nature, pushing him further down onto the bed, planting her hands flatly to both sides of his face.

"The laws of magic are simple, Astri." The way his name left her lips was pronouned with a hint of affection. The kind that cut her own throat for how little she could actually offer him. "There is a way you could save us both, I suppose, but I advice you against it. If you care for yourself even in the slightest, you will refrain from doing this."

She lowered herself until her soft curves pressed against him again, this time, skin on skin, and their foreheads touched once more. She inhaled his comforting scent.

"Your kind possesses magic far superior to this. It's similar, but more sacred." Iris was referring to the concept of Draconic mates. Contrary to their whimsical and fickle human counterparts, his kind didn't engage lightly in romantic bonds. When Draconics took a mate, a spouse, it was for life, sealed with a token of ownership. The entire process was entirely magical. Soul-binding. Final. Magic itself was purely primal in its essence; if strong enough, one kind could overwrite another.

"I'm not the girl you knew." Her soft, submissive whispers changed to harsh and cold demands. "Wake up. Kill me, or leave me. I'm not worth such a sacrifice on your end."
 
Do you know what this means?

Sharp, predatory slits narrowed along his irises - head tilting ever so slightly like some monstrous reptile glaring down at a morsel of food to tear into. That mark. THAT FUCKING MARK. Raw rage snapped up his spine at the mere curvature of it... but also a reaction she might have not expected. The way he would practically start to salivate at the sight of it. Something like that meant... they knew where he was but also that he knew where they were. Right now, in that moment, no one had known what had transpired in the forest. Not the slaughter of the hunters nor the capture of Iris and especially not the conversation the two had been undertaking in that moment. No one had known a single thing in that moment aside from... there was a huntress in the presence of a demon. How much damage could they really do with this?

Could he tear the heart out of the ringleader?

Lure them into a false sense of security and slaughter all their remaining members?

Or... just maybe... he could turn the tables and make them feel what it felt to be hunted for once in their lives. Every waking moment lived in pure fear at someone SCRAPING their innards off the ground after a merciless death that was no better than a rabbit's neck breaking in a trap. For a few moments, the words she spoke had fallen on deaf ears with those violent fantasies taking root in his mind. It was not the mention of where she came, or the incorrect assumption of her worth that finally drew him out of that bloodlust and trance. Rather... it was the sight of a warmer smile that he had forgotten after all those years. Right. That smile. The way she smiled was like a ray of sunshine of a bitter winter day. Then... and now. Slowly but surely, his pupils would dilate and his jaw would soften. The hitch of his breath leisurely swept into a softer, relaxed exhale.


This rune will lead them to you for as long as you keep me alive.

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"I will kill them all. It does not matter. That was my goal from the very start. You think of me as some sort of savior, some sort of hero. I am not. There is only one singular thing that has kept me alive throughout these years and all this time -- and that is the relief and peace I feel when I strangle out a hunter right within my grip. Do you think that is a threat or a warning to me? Just a promise to satisfy my own reason to live." So long as there had been even one single living hunter in that world that preyed on his kind - there would always be a reason to survive. A reason to slaughter them by his own hand. Her presence did not truly change what had kept him alive all that time.

Only...

It offered another conclusion to that story. To him, life or death hardly mattered. Only the kill count that he would have at the conclusion of his life. The most honorable thing he could have done was go out in one last suicidal attack for just... one... more... HUNTER. But what if there was no need for that to be his final years?

Silently, his lashes would flutter close and he would tilt his head in her grasp, pressing his firmer jawline against her softer fingertips. The sound of her voice was just as lovely as ever. "Mm... you're very serious all of a sudden, aren't you?" That warning she tried to desperately mention to him -- did she not know already at this point? Both hands grasped at her hips, pulling her closer atop his lap in a straddle. Both legs would be guided to part at his hips just so he could drape bulkier, heavy forearms over the plush of her softer thighs. Whatever room she had even tried to keep between them would be smothered by the much more masculine sensation of pleasantly toned ridges against her softer physique. Chest to chest, hands roaming down her back with leisurely caresses.


Your kind possesses magic far superior to this. It's similar, but more sacred.

"What makes something valuable, Iris? Do you know? Is it scarcity? Something is valuable because there is relatively little of it? Then what about sentimental constructs? Family? Most have one so clearly not scarce. Why is that magic sacred? Do you know why?" One. One for life and that was all he would get but she seemed to not understand something much more fundamental than that -- it was not the fact that they only took one partner that it was sacred. It was the fact that the one partner they took was to be their everything. Not just a wife and not just a mate, a partner for life. Into the grave and past it, beyond everything life could offer. That was why it was sacred.

In that sense... he was not giving up his one opportunity to bond but rather -


I'm not the girl you knew.

"And? You were the only one who was going to get the proposal from the very start. Did you think I was waiting on someone else? Something else? No. Regardless, it is not something that is given easily. I would not let anyone wrap their hand on my heart just like that -- you really would rather me kill you than take what is rightfully mine? How... adorable." Rightfully his. She had not hallucinated those words, he was telling her right then and there to her face that there was only one place where she belonged. With him. That bratty stubbornness was hardly lost on him. If she wanted to play hard to get then... he was happy to show her what her real place was.


Shadowy tendrils would spill from his fingertips, cloaking his hands in deep, dark black miasma on par with the shade of his tail. With one shove to her shoulder, Iris would find herself pinned down to the bed sheets and the lurch of satin-soft threads spilling off his fingertips and sliding over her body before wrapping around her throat in the shape of a collar. One hand kept to her hip, curling it against his broader thigh. Her companion had been practically so large that it was a struggle to wrap her legs around him in all his entirety - if she was even thinking of that in the moment. In front of her was the towering, massive sight of Aster with his fingertip dipped against his collar. Single tug to reveal thicker portions of heavy, well-outlined muscles. A constant reminder that he could shatter her at any given moment if he so much as put in even the slightest hint more effort.

Soon, the waistband of his trousers would join the same place as his shirt - dangling off the edge of the bed and with it both of his hands held that same connective thread that kept a dangerous amount of magic curled around her neck.

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"Let me tell you how this is going to go, Iris..." The bare brush of his thick, hardened girth nestled right against her warmer entrance. Slow, sensual grind of his length against her clit and over the outline of her lower lips. Each time, he deliberately teased her with entry, tip pressing right against her before pausing just in time for another squeeze of that shadowy thread around her throat. Slowly but surely, the constriction would begin... at one point she might have been on the opposing end of this. Strangling out prey herself and yet here she was, in the very same submissive position.

"I am going to take my sweeet time fucking you - not just once... not twice... until you surrender completely. You've done this terrible, infuriating thing..." Over and over, it was hard to focus on a single one of those huskier growls that spilled against her ear when he was so skillfully toying with her throat like that. On the verge of making her go light-headed, or thrusting into her, and yet he still made her wait in that utter agony for the relief she so clearly craved.

"...you made it seem that, for even a single moment, that I am taking the option to have you as my partner because I have to. That I am merely saving you and taking a sacrifice in the process. Not a fucking chance -- this is what is REALLY going to happen." Grabbing her thigh, he yanked her body closer. There was no need for him to push up to her, the way he manhandled her effortlessly made it feel as if there was not a single ounce of weight on her body - he was just so much stronger than her.

"When I bury into you... I will break down your every little resistance. Every passing concern, every worry, every thought up until this point until you remember only one thing. To cling to me. And only when you are begging me to take you as my mate will I finally do it. I will make you ache for me like how I ache for you --" Copious, steady foreplay had him preparing just about to slide into her but the moment he finally took that final plunge in, he doubted even she would have been ready to take him. One, single thrust forward that buried himself between her thighs - thicker girth steadily stretching her apart through faintly grit teeth. Tight. She was too damn tight. Every little reaction of her body from the tremble of her frame to the squeeze of her core had an unexpected pant leaving his mouth. Fangs bared and the faint, delectable flex of muscle along his body would grind right against her body with every roll of his body forward.

Aster did not try to force his way past the resistance... only the firmer grind of his body as he slowly guided her body to assimilate - to wrap around the cock of the man that would be forever hers. It was as much a ritual as it was a lesson. "N-nngh... why do you feel so good...?! Haah... all this time... I want nothing more than you... JUST you--" Slowly, the rolls of his hips started to transition into deeper, shorter thrusts. The flatten of his tip started to strike those sweeter, softer portions deeper into her pussy - on occasion their positions shifting just enough for him to start grinding against sweet spots that he was discovering at the same times she was.

That dangerous glare in his eyes watched her with such an overwhelming intensity that the moment he felt her easing... he slowly started to squeeze the shadowy threads cross-wise to choke the air out of her lungs. "Look. At. Me. You are going to orgasm right on me. Do you understand...? I will make your head fucking BLANK." Just him. He just wanted the thought of himself buried in her mind in that moment. The more wet she became, the closer his body flattened against her own and the more he started to fuck her in proper. From short slams to deep, full thrusts that had the entire weight of his body against them. Every jerk forward of her smaller, more feminine frame was met with a tug around her throat to pull her right back to the proper level to stare him dead in the eyes, to look right at the man that was going to claim every inch of her.

Even in such a critically vulnerable position... pinned down and practically restrained by a monster of a man, she could see in real time what her mere presence was doing to her big, bad dragon. The way his sweeter, deeper moans were starting to spill like pure honey or how the heat traveled up his body to leave an eye-catching glisten of sweat and a blush that touched his pointed ears. "Iris... Iris...!!" ...Or how he had begun to call her name over and over again as if in some sort of hypnotic trance.

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Close.

She would have felt it too with how passionately they were savoring one another - the raw sensation of his girth throbbing hard inside of her. With how deep he was, it was obvious he had no plans to pull out of her. Why should he? She was going to be his mate. The mother of his children. He was never going to let her go --

Snapping, he would suddenly lunge forward. Releasing the choking sensation around her neck the moment he was smothered to the very back of her pussy, she would instead feel those thick, bulky biceps grab her by the rear and softly crash her against the headboard of the bed. Raw, rough passionate sex as their mouths met each other time and time again and at that point his only goal seemed to be to grind his tip against the very deepest parts of the woman. Completely and utterly smitten, to the point his tail was wrapped around her leg that lazily draped over the side of his thighs.

The jerk of the headboard made it feel like they were going to break the bed with how vigorously they were fucking in that moment.

"Haah... haah... what did you say...? Wake up? YOU wake up -- look at where you are... look at what we are doing... look at how you are feeling. Give up. Surrender. Become mine." Every single word spoken with pure, seething need for her in that moment. Smothering against her once more, he flattened her body right against the bed and with his cock nestled so deep against her that she could feel that heftier, firm set of balls pressed right to her rear. "...I wonder what would happen if I came inside you like this...?" Aster halfway threatened... kissing down her jawline while oh so eagerly moaning against her ear in those last few moments of pure bliss.
 
Eyebrows furrowed, Iris strained her ears for his response.
And? You were the only one who was going to get the proposal from the very start.
Her rapidly accelerating heartbeat betrayed her own words there. She realized that a part of her had hoped he'd say that. That she wouldn't be happy with anything but. It confused her.

What was it that she truly wanted? What worth did she have as someone who didn't even understand that? She was half empty and half full.


You really would rather me kill you than take what is rightfully mine?
Such words were condemning to someone like her.

Mine.

She'd never been her own person for as far as she can remember. Everything that 'Seven' was, was a tool and pet, owned by none other than Captain Raine Styx, leader over the Association's special division that hunted SSS-grade type of beasts. Iris's squad was made up of individuals who were capable of taking on as much, all kids that had been taken from their homes, all special for their very own reasons.

If Aster had been perceptive enough, he would have seen a flicker of complicated emotions in her unnaturally colored eyes. Just like her hair, everything about Iris was odd. Purple hair, lavender eyes, alabaster white skin - from what she'd learned, she's looked like this since birth. More likely than not, she wasn't entirely human, only remembering a vague father figure in her life from before her time as a hunter. Her true origins were highly classified and not even she knew who or what she truly was, but such things mattered not, only this – the fact that Iris was unable to die. Her injuries healed abnormally fast, too. It was the entire reason why she had become a highly treasured minion and Raine's favorite toy as well as obsession. He'd always kept her loyal and docile with promises of finding a way to kill her. From the way she walked to the way she breathed, he'd always had a tight leash on her – until now.

In that sense, Iris wasn't playing hard to get.

She's simply grown accustomed to not being anything but someone else's, praying for death every day and instead delivering it to anyone and everyone she encountered. She viewed herself as unworthy and incapable of genuine affection. Dirty. So used to abuse and her wants and needs being neglected.

She groaned in surprise when Aster pushed her on top of the bed, her heartbeat impossibly fast at this point.

What was he doing now?

Although Raine had owned her in every sick sense of the word, his peculiar ways have never had him go all the way with her. His obsession was rooted in control and pride, and he hadn't been above using her body to satisfy it, but only to a certain extent. She was never to be touched by anyone except by him either, kept pure for his own perverted pleasure. Iris had grown numb and cold to the feeling of being assessed, whether sexually or objectively, naked or otherwise. But here, with Aster, in this moment, heat began to spread in the deepest parts within her and sparked her nerves to life. All of a sudden, her nakedness evoked a feeling of shyness and she felt the urge to cover herself up. But then––

The strangest thing happened. An invisible force snaked around her throat and stopped her in her tracks. Her entire vision was obstructed by none other than her precious childhood friend, staring down at her with such passion and intensity that had her ears turn red. In a matter of seconds, a blush crept over her face, to her throat, all the way down to her shoulders and chest.


"W-what do you think you're––"

"Let me tell you how this is going to go, Iris..."
He undressed. Completely. She was bare and fully unclothed at some point as well. Skin on skin. Fully, this time.

Reality caught up to her fast. Real fast.

She stared up at him for a long, long moment, as if he'd spoken to her in a language she didn't understand.

It was then, and only then, that she realized what she'd done. What terrible mistake she'd committed.

Draconics were primal and true beings. Messing with one's emotions and senses was just plain stupid, for they followed their instincts like the beasts they were. Envy. Jealousy. Hatred. Joy. Pleasure. Happiness. Lust and love, their kind felt everything more purely and more multiplied than any of the other devils. A vengeful Draconic was indeed a rightfully terrifying enemy to have. So what about a provoked one? She'd goaded him into a mating bond, a Draconic who claimed to love her. Which, eventually, required for him and her to... well.

She'd been naive. In more ways than one. That was clear now. To be fair, she truly hadn't expected him to cooperate here.

Instead of giving himself nor her a single moment to think things through though, Aster took matters into his own hands, choosing for the both of them to deal with the consequences after. His method of choice? Overwhelming her. So much so that she couldn't think straight. Did she really want this? Was this the reasonable thing to do? Did she have enough spirit left within her to commit to this? To him? Did she have the right to? None of these thoughts had the chance to be processed by her. Only feeling. Him. Her. In this moment. Nothing else.

Her eyes widened when they wandered from his face down to where their bodies suddenly connected. The pressure around her throat grew tighter, too, instilling a sense of panic in her. Not only was any of this foreign to her, but the sight that presented itself to her was, too–– he was massive. Hot. Hard. Ready. And all they had done was talk. Not even kissed. She wasn't a stranger to a man's anatomy, made familiar with Raine's cock on more than one occasion when his preferred flavor of forcing her into submission manifested in sucking him off.

But this? There was no comparison.

Aster was completely different. From his beautiful, powerful body to his feral but welcome and familiar essence. Everything about him seemed perfect. Perfect for her. Iris covered her mouth as she continued to appraise him.

A voice of doubt bled into her judgement of the situation. There was no way he would fit. There was no way he wouldn't hurt her in the process. She was wholly unprepared. Like a cornered little rabbit, she swallowed and looked up at him again.

The air was thick with tension as he rubbed his hot, silky length against her, and in return, her body rewarded him for it. She was wet for him instantly.

What insanity.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, they went to the sheets, grabbing a fistful of them to each side of her body. She whimpered at the sensation of him rubbing himself against her clit; a sound of fear and delight. Despite her inexperience, her legs opened up more for him all on their own. She couldn't help it. With each adoring thrust against her, she trembled a bit more noticeably, whether out of fear or excitement she had no idea.

All she knew then, was that this felt good. That it felt right. There was not a single part of her that didn't want this man specifically. Although Iris didn't remember everything about them, about him, it seemed that her heart did. Her body did. Instead of rejecting him, they cried out to him, coaxing him into doing exactly what he'd proclaimed he would. Make her his.

Something she'd long buried rushed to the surface.

Love. Love, love, love. Love me. If it's possible, please love me. She let her ugly desires peek through the cracks of what she believed was left of her.

Iris's breath hitched when he began to dip into her.

"Please," she gasped, her plight frantic. Please stop? Please go slowly? Please be more gentle? Her brain refused to cooperate with her, too focused on what was happening. Aster most likely didn't know that this was her first time. And even if it hadn't been, the outcome would have probably been the same. Her hands went from the sheets to his back instead, digging her nails into him, trying to convey to him what she wasn't able to voice.

The inevitable happened regardless. His tip alone stretched her beyond measure. Paired with the lack of air he granted her, she was becoming dizzy. Her body writhed against his erratically, her protests only hushed by the bittersweet things he was growling into her ear.


"N-nngh... why do you feel so good...?! Haah..."
While hearing it felt good, she couldn't reciprocate it. Not yet. He was stretching her out to her limits, reshaping her insides to accomodate him. The first few inches burned and Iris's eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. She shook her head from side to side. "W-why are you so big?" She began to whine, the tone of her voice small and accusatory. "Are we really doing this?" There was nowhere for her to run. Nowhere to go. He simply fucked her through it, albeit expertly, allowing pleasure to replace the pain gradually. Little by little, she loosened up, giving in to him, clenching less around him, making it more pleasant for the both of them.

When he finally settled inside her completely, the look in his eyes was outright disarming.

See? You take me so well.

It felt like he was saying just that to her, stunning her into silence.

So when he began to move right after, the first moan he coaxed out of her right after felt damning. The tension in the air melted into something decidedly more charged then. The intimacy of them locking their eyes like this felt both devastating and satisfying, like they were connected beyond normal comprehension. Which they would be, both in mind and body, by the end of all this.

Just as he'd promised, all thoughts and reason left her. She whimpered helplessly against him as he drew himself out of her slowly, making her feel every single inch of him fully, allowing her to feel for herself just how much of him she'd managed to take.

Her heartbeat was wildly thumping against her chest like a little hummingbird, her adrenaline spiking, making her breathing uneven.

He began a pace that was steady and would get her used to him, making her ache for him just how he wanted. Every push of his throbbing cock against her walls was met with an agonizingly sweet squeeze whenever he pulled back just to pound into her again.

Nothing about this was gentle. It was raw and primal. One person acting on a sudden rush of emotions, another acting on an impulse to keep what he'd once lost no matter what. It wasn't love-making. It was drowning. That was how she felt; in his sweet voice, in his scent, in his body. Maybe he'd choke her out in the heat of the moment, which felt entirely possible as her vision grew increasingly more vague and dark. And she would be okay with it. She was dancing on the periphery of consciousness, completely consumed by nothing but how fucking good he felt, how blissful it would be to perish by the hands of someone who'd showed her the most amount of affection she'd ever received.

Just when Iris thought she'd pass out, they shifted, and at first, she simply fought to regain her breath. She barely registered the coldness of the headboard as gravity helped him reach further inside her. She hissed as his cock dove so deeply into her. She trembled and mindlessly wrapped her arms around his neck, tears finally spilling from the corners of her eyes. It was too much. Their fucking, it was too much. His clear need for her, it was smothering her. She was feeling things she'd never felt before. Aster was relentless in his pursuit to mark every inch of her as his, taking her hard and fast, as if he was scared she'd disappear at any moment. Quickly, every slap of his skin against hers was rewarded with a whimper or moan, but never his name.
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A new tingling sensation spread throughout her tight little core and it shocked her. It spread from her pussy to her stomach, building in intensity as he whispered her name like a prayer. Her muscles were tensing, gripping around him, straining against his size. He was groaning with every thrust now and all she could hear, all she could feel was him, along with the slick sounds of his hips slamming into hers. He was getting close too.

She didn't know what was happening, but as she latched onto him, as she dragged her nails across his back once more, Iris could feel it building—a pressure so mind-numbingly great that it was taking over her. "Good," she barely admitted, her embarrassment forgotten, her breaths leaving her harshly whenever he slammed home, "thisyou, feel really good."

Iris's eyes were shut closed, her cheeks flushed and wet. She resigned. "Do what you wish, Aster."

In a way, the recklessness of this moment felt like he was proving her point from before—that he didn't love her. That he, too, like anyone else before him, simply sought to satisfy a certain need with her. Unbeknownst to her, what Iris needed, longed for, was more consideration. More sweetness. More room for her own self to unfurl and exist. For someone to beg her to be hers. And until Aster worshipped her in such a way and coaxed such a vulnerability out of her, he'd never have her wholly. Only the parts of her that were used to belonging to somebody else. For now, it was enough. If she never wanted to return to the Association ever again and be free, she was more than happy to ride this one out with him. Kissing him, for one, felt incredibly addicting.

"Do—whatever you want," she barely got out, choosing to lick his lower lip before kissing him again. Her body showed him everything he needed to know. She shouldn't want anything from him, this beast she'd planned to kill, but right now, she wanted him. She wanted everything he could give her. Her lust was consuming her, consequences be damned. She was so close to something she's never tasted before she didn't care about anything else. She wanted this release.
 
It was hard to place where exactly he had found himself single-mindedly obsessed with the thought of her. Before they had encountered each other, she was nothing more than a long lost memory in the back of his mind - barely incapable of even remembering her voice or her face... a mere few hours later his senses were flooded with Iris. Her scent, her warmth, the taste of her lips, the warmth of her pussy as she desperately clung to him. Every squeeze of her core on his thrusts or how the pitch of her tone melted into the most intoxicating moans he had ever heard in his life. Never once before her did he care to even think of doing something like this with another woman. Why bother? All it would lead to was more vulnerability. Taking a mate, starting a family - just to give more prey to those insolent rodents that hunted them.

Do what you wish, Aster.

Moment of brief clarity would wash over him, leaving his head in a cool, level-headed stream of thoughts for just that moment when his vision cleared and his gaze relaxed. Mid-thrust, he had slowed and both hands would wrap over her cheeks to caress his thumb down her jawline in loving grinds that felt all across the structure of her face. Every inch of her dripped femininity. She was beautiful. It mattered not if she was scarred or felt herself ruined - it hardly mattered that she felt like a waste to him. In all this world, there was only one flower that dared bloom in a field of ash and blood. Her. Leaning forward, he locked their lips together for a deep, needy kiss.

So close that she could feel every individual throb and the reverberation of his moan in her mouth... the way his body comfortably relaxed against her despite not hitting its climax quite yet. "I..." Wanted to kill. Slaughter every single hunter he could. The mere thought of that made him salivate but there was something much deeper than that. Leaning over her ever so slightly, his face buried against her jaw and traced along her neck until he found another patch of milky, unblemished skin to lap and gently bite again. "...I wanted to kill them all. I still do. I despise them -- but I want something more than that. I want you as my mate. I want to go back. I want to start that village again. Oh, how I wish..." Momentarily, the demon had vanished. Only the softer, adoring smile of a boy that she was once familiar with peering down at her with pure adoration.

"...you had met me earlier. I so, dearly love you... not now, or in the past, for every day your heart is beating and then every day in the future where I am forced to be without you. In... just a few moments..." Intentionally slowed. His whispered breath against her neck was supplemented by slow, sensual grinds of his hips that flattened the tip of his girth right against the very back of her core in infuriating, overwhelming flatten. Broad, open palm would trace down her waist, sliding over her navel and resting flat so he could feel the way he throbbed inside of her. So deep and so eager for something a little more primal.

"...I will finish inside of you - I can do whatever I want? I will breed you. As many times as necessary... but I will also slaughter. No one... NO ONE will come after that which I deem as mine. YOU are mine. You... and --" Outstretched, open palm caressing over her core just once more. Aster allowed her to fill in the blanks for the remainder of what was unsaid, instead he had begun to thrust into her all over again, this time not with the more overwhelming crash of bodies that had the mattress crunching in agony beneath them. Rather, it was the much slower and far more measured sensation of his body flattening against her own with each individual thrust. Every ridge of muscle locked against her frame, chest pushing her own down and allowing his tip to linger against the very back of her core for a few delightful seconds longer than when he was rutting into her roughly.

One more adjustment of positions, flattening his own back against the headboard of the bed - leaning backwards and positioning her just a little higher atop his lap. Forehead to forehead with a palm sliding through her hair to grasp at a nice handful while they stared right into each other's eyes. He stared at her as if he was constantly getting lost in her beautiful gaze. "...I love you. I will not let anyone else hurt you, ever again... I promise." To him, it would not matter if an entire legion would constantly be on his tail, she was his woman. She was worth burning this world down for. Even if that peaceful end was not in their future, it did not matter to him so long as she remained by his side. One final grasp of her cheeks while he rod out his own finish with a few more huskier, deeper grunts marred with the occasional growls to remind her the nature of her partner.

Every single throb felt like it was the last until he suddenly crashed fast and hard -

Thick, hot ropes of seed that splattered into her core, dulcet moans turning a shade lower and massively more pleasured while drenching her to the brim with pure heat. Both of those powerful, well-built forearms would wrap around her body from behind, keeping her locked atop his lap until the tremble and spasm of that draconic endowment had slowly settled amidst deeper, labored pants. Soaked in sweat, the only thing he could feel in that moment was how warm everything had felt. Her body and his own, but most of all... the mess he had made inside of her. Flattening his palm on the bed, he would push her body down once again so he smothered her from the front - arm wrapping around her waist to press her face into that warm row of powerful muscles along his chest that had already begun to smell somewhat like her. Just as much as she had started to carry his scent.

"I am strong." Aster noted, tone all too softer and somewhat sleepier after something more intense. It was not a battle but it was his first time. Inexplicably, a dragon's first had been draining - soul bindings took time and ran deep but maybe she could have felt it. The way that it felt like his heartbeat was on her fingertips or how a warm, snug sense of protection coiled around her with his mere presence. "...Stronger than the hunters, yes, but much stronger than any of the draconics that were in our village. I can destroy the hunter corps coming after my kind. Help me, Iris... and then when we do, we can rebuild Aeston. You and I. The first family of many where children no longer need to worry to fight for their survival. I will end everything here, with the one demon that they failed to end." Until the taste of their blood soaked his tongue and drenched his claws - it would not be enough. Now, they had not only a vengeful demon chasing their trails... they had an overprotective, obsessive mated dragon that would stop at nothing to destroy anything that stood in the way of union between him and his beloved Iris.

The world would burn before he allowed even a single one of them to get away.
 
"I want to go back. I want to start that village again. Oh, how I wish..."

His thrusts slowed, and the release she was so desperate for was momentarily taken away from her.

Had Aster continued, she would have come undone for him right then and there.

The tension inside her ebbed, yet didn't disappear, still supplemented by his deep and thorough grinds that had her moaning whenever he hit a certain spot. It felt mind-numbingly good whenever he did, but wasn't quite enough to have her tumble over the edge. Not yet. It irked her.

Iris shook her head from side to side in heavy protest and dug her heels into his back in an attempt to move herself in his arms, to keep the momentum going all on her own. But—to no avail. No chance. In this very moment, her dragon was in full control of the pace. This was him staking his claim on her. He was in charge here. She opened her eyes, prepared to level him with a frustrated glare instead—


"...you had met me earlier. I so, dearly love you... not now, or in the past, for every day your heart is beating and then every day in the future where I am forced to be without you."

A second of clarity hit her.

So much vulnerability.

He was being so vulnerable with her. So honest.

It showed in the way he held her face, in the way his eyes softened and how his shapely lips curved into a sweet smile. All for her. His words, too, carried a genuine and passionate declaration of love. Right in front of her, the boy of her past and the man who fucked her so tenderly now blended together, and for some reason, a new set of fresh, hot tears slid down her cheeks. Warmth settled in her chest, recognition and acceptance washing over her.

Aster.

This was her Aster. The one and only person who had never ever wavered, who had always stood by her side no matter what. Even now, after all these years, even after she'd forgotten him; he refused to give her up. He hadn't changed at all.

To be forgotten? Or to forget? Which fate had been crueler?

In the end, it mattered not. It shouldn't—only that they had each other again.

The strong desire to protect him at all costs seized her by her heart and squeezed.

"I'm sorry…," she wove her fingers into his soft midnight hair, soothing her hand over the back of his head. "I'm so—ah!—... ngh, I'm so sorry, Astri."

Sorry for him. Sorry for what happened to her. Sorry for their shared suffering.

Her other hand wandered between their bodies and came to a rest on top of his, right over where it was resting on her stomach. Not to stop him, but to encourage. His breath against her neck and his little bites on her skin were maddening. His conviction was frighteningly infectious. He was willing to give himself to her, in body, mind and soul. It moved her. Made her want to open herself up to him and have him make a home for himself in all the gaps and cracks of her being, until she could no longer distinguish between what was made up of him or her.

Iris wasn't sure whether she could be a mother, much less a good one. But for this person? She would try. She would do anything. The more they intertwined, the stronger this need in her became.

Her lips brushed against his ear, her tongue darting out to caress it before she kissed it gently. "If it's you—anything is fine." Even if she wasn't fully aware of it yet, it was true. Whether it was their souls binding together that compelled such an answer out of her or her own feelings on the matter. "Please," her grip on his hair tightened and her voice turned a shade more pleading, "fuck me harder, Astri. Please make me forget everything except you."

It was her first voluntary decision. Her first baby step towards freedom. She wanted to commemorate it by having him leave his marks on her in every way possible.

Their switch in position did it for her.

Her hands went to his shoulders for support and her legs began to shake ever so slightly. Even now, Aster refused to relent control and pumped himself up into her, though this time around, more areas of her got stimulated. Iris lost herself in the delicious amount of friction, her eyes clouding over with pleasure. She was close, so so close. Her breathing turned erratic and her body tensed. His moans and wild growls were driving her crazy. He was dominating her in every way possible, on every levelwithout abandon. So when she came, she did the same. She made the most filthy kind of sounds when that built-up tension in her finally snapped.

She shut her eyes, allowing the waves of pleasure to crash over her, to take over. Her toes curled, her body slammed against his, and she was aware that she was screaming, though she was too lost in her own euphoria to hear it. All she could focus on was the intensity of the orgasm he coaxed out of her, that he had chased after. Her inner walls tightened and contracted wildly, testing his patience, massaging every last bit of his throbbing length inside her. And soon after, he followed her; she could feel him tense, then pulse inside her. The first shot was strong, driving her to bury her face in his chest. Receiving his cum felt tingly, wet and warm. Satisfying.

Iris felt herself dazed and disoriented, finding it difficult to come down from her high. The only thing that kept her tethered to the here and now was his gravelly voice and his scent. She inhaled it deeply, using it as her anchor, to gradually return herself to being functional and responsive.

Once her breathing had returned to a more relaxed and even rhythm, she finally answered.

"I know you're strong." She could feel it. Her hands on his skin twitched. Power was flowing off of his body in waves. In a one versus one situation, Aster had the upper hand no doubt. Even in numbers, no one at the Association measured up to his standard. However—what they lacked in physical power, they compensated in dirty tricks. Iris, having witnissed the Association's might first hand, knew. Eradicating them wouldn't be as easy as Aster made it seem. But he had a point; if she became his ally, they could stand a chance. She knew its structure like the back of her hand. And if they moved soon, they'd have the element of surprise as well.

"I..." She pushed her thighs together, feeling the aftermath of their rough fucking dripping out of her. Iris pressed a kiss to his chest. "I'm yours, right? Of course, I'll help. I'm strong, too."

True peace. Co-existence between the races. Never having to kill anything or anyone on whimsical orders again. It was as much her own dream as it was his. She wondered then. How had he lived his life until now? Had he gathered allies? Where the hell were they?

Iris moved in his arms, then groaned. Ability to be able to resurrect aside, her body still hurt.

She poked a finger into his side.


"You impulsive beast, you just folded my body as if I had been all healed up already." Iris whined. "Is that how you treat someone you love?" She wiggled in his embrace. "Please tell me you have something to help with this. Does this place have, I don't know, a bath? Where are we?" Some heat sounded heavenly right about now.
 
I'm yours, right? Of course, I'll help. I'm strong, too.

"No. I refuse." Aster had been so comfy, practically curled up to her like some sort of oversized puppy... all up until she said those words and immediately, he had snapped upright and to attention. Low growl against her ear and so on edge that she might've even felt the tremor running through his body as he bristled at her. Those few seconds of a standoff between them would finally have him grumpily laying his head back down on the covers, quietly muttering something to himself about how she should have just left all the ugly stuff to him. After what she had gone through, he would have much preferred she never picked up another weapon in her life...

He chose to be the monster.

She had no choice.

That pained groan would have him torn out of his petulant pouting, a look of worry crossing his features as he hastily reached forward to try and... and do what? Frozen in place for a moment, he caught sight of his own hands. He did not remember how to care for another individual, had he? When everything was said and done, those hands of his were drenched so red in blood that the only thing that truly came naturally to him was taking another life. Gritting his teeth, sometimes the deepest thoughts could only be interrupted with the most mindless of prodding. The - poke, poke, poke - that had him snapping out of his brooding with an annoyed growl.

"...Don't call me an impulsive beast, you little brat. You were the one that went and got knocked on your ass!" Aster's grunt had him revealing thick, pronounced fangs. Massive enough to tear a leg off if he put enough force into it but in that moment the only thing they were used for was that practically child-like complaining of his that took him right back to his earlier days. How stupid... after everything that changed, she still somehow managed to pull him into her own pace. Without bothering to respond to her verbally, he would just throw her over his shoulder like she was a sack. Midriff balanced atop his shoulder with one hand patting her ass and the other half of her body dangling over along his back.

With her vantage point, she'd get a better look at where exactly they were. Outside of he bedroom there looked to be a hallway that lead down to a few other rooms. Not a cabin, or at least it was too large to appear like one. Aster would take a turn into the bathroom. Tile-lined with a wooden basin already set up and a tap to draw water from. Tub already half-filled but the water was ice cold from even the slightest dip of her toes past the surface. "Quit dipping your foot in, you're going to freeze." Smacking her foot lightly to keep her in place, he kneeled to fill the wooden basin - the question of how that water would heat up would be solved with the curl of his tail dipping into the waters and sparks slowly spilling off of it to start heating up the bath as if his tail was some sort of portable heater. Fire was something that came naturally to his kind. The sort that was capable of melting skin and muscle off bones...

...so using it like this was at least a little embarrassing, to say the least.

After filling the basin a few times and then transferring the water to the bath, steam had started to cling to the walls and window. Little warmer than she might have been used to... but that was because she wasn't entering it alone. Aster had swept over her thigh with a towel to briefly clean her up before sliding over the edge of the bath, massive body serving as a platform for her to leisurely sit back against and soak on her own. Somehow, his frame was warmer than the bath he had just fetched for her. Both arms wrapped around her waist and he would lean his head back against the wall. The bath practically transformed into a hot springs with Aster in there with her.

"We're at a nearby town. Someone I know owns this home... they're letting me use it for now in return for a favor." A favor that he did not bother to elaborate on. He had a more pressing question than that. Peeking over her shoulder, it was clear he was still grumpy for some reason. "...So if you don't remember me, does that mean I have to make you fall in love with me all over again? Urgh...that hurts." Low whine under his breath but he wouldn't ponder it too much, instead just opting to lean his head back and close his eyes again.
 
B-brat?!

Iris's cheeks heated upon being called a brat. Nobody had dared to look down at her like this, at least not openly so. Although known as Raine's little bitch, people feared her. Not only were they naturally unsettled by her looks, but they also feared her for what she was capable of; she'd grown into a hunter who was terribly wicked with a knife and versed in the language of poison. As one of the few women at the Association, she'd demonstrated her skills in the face of many men who thought her to be a pushover. A slashed ear here, a lost finger there. Her usual demeanour was nonchalant and doll-like at best. Cold, heartless, ruthless, inhuman—such were the things that she was associated with. Seeing her sport anything but a grim expression was rare.

And yet, here, with Aster, she found herself being anything but.

Unbeknownst to them both, he was coaxing a side out of her that was more reactive, more abashed and clumsy. More like the woman she could have been.

She shrieked in a girlish and startled manner when he flung her over his shoulder, deeming the entire action very much brutish. She made her displeasure over this known by kicking her feet and slapping his back. She had half a mind to bite him upon the change in scenery, immediately commiting to memory the path he'd chosen to take, when her gaze travelled down along his body and stopped at his naked ass. Oh. That's when she stilled. She averted her eyes quickly, choosing to study the ceiling instead.

When Iris realized that he would actually prepare a bath for her, she felt flustered and shy. Sure, they'd just fucked, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she deemed the entire thing a necessary act. Something they did for the sake of a mutual transaction that they both benefited from. So, him doing anything for her beyond that and going out of his way to do as she wished felt... fuzzy. Ticklish. Like a flurry of butterflies that had been set free underneath her skin.

Nestled in his embrace and in the hot water, her eyes very nearly closed. His presence was like a protective and soothing balm, one she wanted to burrow her face in and never have to miss.


"...So if you don't remember me, does that mean I have to make you fall in love with me all over again? Urgh...that hurts."

What did it take to fall in love with someone?

Was it the same as infatuation, attraction? Was attraction an aspect of it? How fast could someone fall in love with another?

As she pondered this, her hands were gliding over his thighs absentmindedly, exploring his skin with the tips of her fingers.

Love was something she had considered a privilege, one that she'd never get to experience. How did she envision it? How would she like to be with someone she was in love with?

"I... remember a little bit. I dreamt about you. About us, about Aeston, though my memories are blurry and vague." Her hands on his thighs paused. "I wish I remembered more. Perhaps with time I will."

A short silence settled inside the bathroom.

She did feel fondness for him, she realized, now in a more sober condition. She couldn't explain it, but it was there, intensified due to their newly established bond. It seemed that the Association hadn't been able to erase all of her yet; not the parts that were related to him. He must have been that special to her.

SPLASH.

The motion of water sploshing over the rim of the tub caught her attention and had Iris assess their current positions. She had never felt small in her life. Objectively speaking, she wasn't, and on a personal level, she'd always held her head high, her guard up. Seeing how he damn near took up the entire space inside the tub and dwarfed her in size was unnervingly attractive.

"By the way..."

She braved some courage and spoke up. "What we did—uhm. A-and the things I said, when we—" If he looked closely, he could see the tips of her ears turn a blushing pink. "That was... a first for me."

Suddenly overcome by the need to be closer, she moved and turned around. The mating bond slammed into her in full effect—she wanted to touch him. This time around, however, she wanted to be more deliberate. To take things slow. With the imminent threat of being, ironically, hunted by those who'd turned her into a hunter gone, her mind was clearer than ever. There was no need to hurry, no need to rush. She wanted to explore her confusing feelings for this dragon, on her own terms.

Consequently, she placed one of her hands on his thigh again, smoothing her thumb over his hot skin. With her other, she began to trace a line down his collarbone. Judging by how he's been handling her, she assumed that it's either been a while since he's embraced another or that it had been his first time with her as well. It was almost frightening just how much that pleased her.

That daring finger along his collarbone wandered lower.

"If you want me to fall for you again, allowing me to get more familiar with you is a good start, I think." Her lavender eyes clouded over with a shade of curiosity and desire.

"How about this?" She licked her lips, still rosy and swollen from their previous entanglement. "Tell me about your favorite memories of us?"
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Iris raised herself up a little, causing more water to spill over the edge. She leveled him with a look that begged him to stay put and to not move. Not until she said so. Then, her hands went to the back of his head, angling it in a way she preferred, and she leaned forward for a kiss. Unlike the few they'd shared before, this one was a real kiss—drugging and slow, one that started off with a chaste peck until her tongue licked along his lower lip and then met his. They lingered like this for a few more kisses before she decided to resume her ministrations down his chin and along his throat.


"Go on. I'm all ears."
 
She remembered some... that meant that most of it could return to her under the right conditions? Aster's eyes shut tight and he would reminisce a little over Aeston. It was a village at the base of a mountain. Harsh winters but soft summers, had there been something there he could use to jog her memories? The crisp crunch of freshly fallen snow, wild mountain flowers that only bloomed in the valley, or maybe of the way that the world seemed to go completely silent the moment someone went far enough up the ridge of the mountain. For him, there were countless memories that blended into what he remembered as his 'childhood' but what was it that little brat from back then thought of when she thought of 'home'?

He wish he knew.

Times like these were the sorts he wished that he could be in her head a little more... in spite of how early in their life he was always the one shooing her away for being too clingy.


What we did—uhm. A-and the things I said, when we—

"What did we do?" In a completely dumb and blunt retort, his eyes opened and he stared down at the girl who practically had steam coming off the top of her head. "...Oh, that. It was a first for me too. Why? Was it bad? If you tell me how to do it better, I promise that it'll be much more enjoyable." For him, he saw nothing embarrassing at all about doing that with your soul mate. No different from how a pair was driven together with instinct or even a deeper need to be with someone who completed the other. That was who Iris was for him. Not even a single word of complaint as he wrapped an arm around her waist and nestled his fingers through her hair to tuck her cheek right against a firm pair of firmer pectorals.

Wherever she wanted to explore, he was happy to oblige. Not only was he quite a bit larger than her, giving her plenty of room to explore, there was also the faintest hint of smoother, tougher scales scattered along certain points of his body. Hot. His skin was hot - and not only because his temperature was higher. A low, approving rumble spilled against her ear to drive that stake of pure, heated bliss deeper into her core. Just like how every single one of her touches had him acting increasingly more needy, he felt that it was the same for her.

They were skin to skin and yet it still somehow felt like it wasn't quite enough...


If you want me to fall for you again, allowing me to get more familiar with you is a good start, I think.

"...I would never stop you." Softer rumble against her jaw, drowned out by the low trail of kisses over her jawline up until finally... that kiss would boil into something far more heated. Tangle of their tongues locking together and though she warned him not to move, he could not help himself. Both hands settled onto her hips to comfortably support her. Leaning forward and pushing a little more of his weight against her, he would moan into the kiss and eagerly returned each and every single one. Somehow she had started on his lap and at the tail end of it she was leaning against the back of the bath tub from how he had zero self control in regards to the woman bathing with him.

"A-Ah... sorry..." Mumbling, the hazy look in his eyes had him in a momentary trance. Everything about her felt too good. Her voice, the feel of her lips, the taste of her mouth -- all of it made his head blank in all the right ways. It would take a few moments for him to sort himself out, clearing his throat and leaning back to think once more.


Tell me about your favorite memories of us?

...It had felt like so long ago that he even had her. What was he even supposed to say? There were fundamental aspects of a human that changed as they grew and so he felt even a little silly to reminisce over that clingy little girl that he had once called a friend. Childhood crushes were pointless in that sense, they were harbored by little boys and girls that knew nothing of the world and carried that sweet-hearted naivety that would inevitably end up shattered by how reality was harsh and unforgiving. But... there was one thing that came to mind almost immediately.

"...The fact that you worried an annoying amount." Mumbling bashfully, he would look away from her and in some moment of clarity, she would finally manage to squeeze out some type of embarrassed reaction from the seemingly shameless lover of hers. "There was a time that we were picking apples... so I climbed onto the tree. Grabbed the wrong branch and took a fall, injuring myself. You bawled your eyes out - but I couldn't get it. I'm not some flimsy human like you. I don't bruise easy, it doesn't hurt as bad when someone digs a knife into me, much less when I sprain an ankle so...." It was foolish. It made no damn sense. At the end of the day, she was just wasting concern on someone that could have taken that punishment and just brushed it off. "... I never got why you were just in my bedroom night after night worrying your ass off about me. You even got in the way of mom trying to nurse me back to health a few times... what the hell was up with that?" Make it make some damn sense. Why did something so irrational make his heart ache? The worry, the concern, the way he knew that someone - from the bottom of their hearts - loved and cared for him. He hated to admit it but that empathy that she had lost was what made him fawn for her even if he tried to pretend like he did not.

In his eyes, Iris was what he thought of when he thought of the concept of love.
 
A small displeased pout was on her lips when he finally leaned back after he had pursued her to the other end of the tub. Her gaze was accusatory, as if to say—you moved!—but it was incredibly difficult to be anything remotely close to upset with him. He was being so gentle and sweet with her, so tender. To her, his affections felt like the first rays of spring, soft and warm, with the promise of more soon to come.

As he mulled over what answer to give her, Iris slowly studied him. Thoroughly, this time.

He was beautiful. Her mate was beautiful.

How could someone like him ever be considered ugly or beastly?

She'd gotten this close to piercing his heart. Then, she would have never gotten to perceive him in the way she did now. It was mind-boggling how fast they'd gone from enemies to lovers.

"...The fact that you worried an annoying amount."
... No, more than that. She found herself thinking that this draconic devil was—cute. His body was made for destruction in every way possible, and yet, she had the mind to consider him endearing. Perfect.

Perfect for her.

Briefly, her eyes wandered to a wooden stool that stood close to the bath. Crystal tubs and jars of various sizes were on top of it. She reached out for one of them, sniffing its contents, before scrunching up her nose and reaching for another. This one, she was pleased with. It reminded her of one of her most prized possessions back at the Association; a small vial containing a floral oil meant for her hair. She'd received it as a gift from an elderly merchant, a small token of gratitude for ridding their town of a pack of goblins. Iris had never actually used it, one reason being that she was never around long enough to enjoy a bath, and the other being that she deemed it too precious to use.

She lathered whatever this was between her fingers, then began to work her hands along Aster's body. She was almost like an innocent little bird in her mannerisms, unfamiliar with how to treat someone else kindly. She wanted to treat him kindly.

His comment about her being flimsy as a human earned him a more forceful knead along his muscles, though she didn't interrupt him, too curious to learn more about herself. It felt strange, to put it mildly. None of the things he recounted sounded like her, the Iris now. She didn't allow herself to worry about others, even if her heart on the matter thought otherwise. She was a lone wolf who kept a solid distance to everyone, for everyone was either a potential threat or a possible victim in her world. She'd turned a blind eye, pretended to not see the suffering of some. Her life as Seven had been much easier that way.

"... I never got why you were just in my bedroom night after night worrying your ass off about me. You even got in the way of mom trying to nurse me back to health a few times... what the hell was up with that?"

A smile had worked itself on her lips by the end of his story, albeit bittersweet in nature.

"It sounds like you were very special to me." Words that young Iris had never gotten around to say to him like this.

Satisfied with her work, she began to cup water in her hands, then poured it over his skin.

"Though it also sounds like...," she narrowed her eyes at him, "all it takes to receive your love is to fret over you."

Iris sniffed at that, then took one of his hands and poured the same kind of soap onto his palm. As if to punctuate her next words, she placed his hand on her chest, then guided it down to glide over her right breast. She was making him touch her, yet the entire action was very much possessive.

"I'm afraid I don't like to share. I've already warned you that I'm not the girl you used to know. Should you ever end up not happy in this arrangement because of that, I won't condone you wavering."

Her other, free hand, went to touch him above where his precious heart beat. "I'd rather finish what I've started in that forest not too long ago."

She was surprised by her own words, yet with every passing moment in his presence, she could confirm it to be true. She was trained to expect the unexpected and to expect the worst. It was the entire reason why she'd told him to kill her, before they'd went ahead and finalized a bond together.
 
Low, half-way confused grunt escaped his lips at the knead of her fingertips. To him, this seemed pointless... grazing him softly, washing him like this, the only time he bothered to wash was quick rinses meant for nothing more than keeping his hygiene up. Long soaks in the tub with an overwhelmingly beautiful partner were... foreign, to say the least. Pausing for a moment, he'd sink a little bit against her grip and in that same motion the line of muscle along his body would start to loosen. Now, that rumbly snarl would turn into something more of a small little hum occasionally interlaced with a far sweeter rumble. Both eyes fluttered close and with it his head would lay back passively to let her attention run all over him as much as she might have pleased. No matter how much she mapped out? There was always more to admire with someone like him.

The very same way he felt towards someone like her, in fact.


It sounds like you were very special to me.
Tired. When his eyes opened again, they were tired. Half-lidded with the flutter of lashes over a somewhat vacant, dark gaze. "More than you could ever understand..." Aster admitted with no shame, tremble running through him at the drench of water that rinsed off that odd sensation she had made him go through. Odd but... not bad. Rather, he enjoyed being spoiled quite a bit even though he was loathe to admit it.
Though it also sounds like...
all it takes to receive your love is to fret over you.
"I don't get what that means. All it takes is a small sprout to make a big blossom. Of course that's where it all began... there wasn't something big or anything grandiose - you were always there. Your love, your care, your affection - you are that image in my head. Is that wrong of me?" Somewhat brattier grumble, fingers parting to squeeze atop her breast with a softer knead. Shaking his head the mention of him 'sharing' anything was met with a scrunched up nose as if he had just experienced an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Bitter and ashy unlike the honey sweet of Iris. "I was celibate for close to two decades... explain to me again why you think I would waver?" He fully planned on being the last of his lineage. To burn everything down to the ground the moment that he had come to realize that all that he loved or cared for was gone.
One final act of disobedience to his unfair world. That was all he wanted to do... until she returned.
Once more, that completely darkened night sky sparkled once more with all the stars in the world - her.

I'd rather finish what I've started in that forest not too long ago.

"...I've already prepared for it. I don't spend much time resting or relaxing. I eat on the go. I know their patterns, I know their mannerisms, I know every trap they could or would set... I just don't know where their stronghold is - I don't know how to choke out the root of this rot and so like roaches festering in a city, they continue to crawl out from between the cracks." Faintly bared fangs and ash spilling from his tone. Even as he blew what felt like overwhelming heat against her neck, to her it would have felt like nothing more than an intoxicating, hypnotic heat. The bond ensured that he would never so much as think to harm her.

Just as it would for her - there was only one future remaining for the two. To live together or to die together. There was no in between.

"...Are you dead set on fighting? Then..." Rising to his full height, he utterly dwarfed her own body now that she was sitting balled up in the tub like that. "...I will allow it on one condition. If you can spar with me and take me down, I will let you be with me on the battlefield. If you cannot... you must accept that it is too dangerous for you to fight beside me." At one point that towering body would have been pure terror for her. Wildly muscular, broad frame with etches of scars - each one another hunter's life torn from them in an attempt to fell this beast. Now, there was a different feeling elicited between the two of them. Pure heat. He gazed upon her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever witnessed in his life, that nothing would dare to come close... and he saw the way she looked upon him - as if he was the first ray of summer heat in an endless winter's night.

This was his last offer. If she did not take this, he would not let her remain by him in danger.
 
Allow.

Allow?

A faint itch settled in the back of her mind as his words echoed inside her head.

Instinctively, her eyes roamed around the steam-infused room, spotting different kinds of tools or objects that could be used as weapons. Nothing was quite suitable as a killing weapon, but surely enough, they could be used as distractions.

Iris balked as she realized where her thought process was taking her. She willed it to realign.

As strong as Aster was—what gave him the right to choose for her?

He'd found her in that forest and had sealed a bond of eternity with her. Fine. That was all good and well.

Iris could not, however, remember signing herself up for anything beyond giving herself to him in both body and soul. He was as much hers as she was his. She would honor that. None of it entailed that he would get to take over the reins of her life and steer them however he wished, though. She'd been there before, and she didn't plan on going back there again.

"Oh?"

She leaned back against the tub as she watched him stand, placing both of her arms on each side of the rim. Her gaze turned calculative and cool as she regarded him.

From a practical point of view, she could understand him not wanting her to be in harm's way because it would put him at risk as well. Something told her however that this was not the case here. He was being stubbornly controlling for other reasons. Through their bond, she could feel that one of his primary ones was to protect her. That he wished to shield her from any more horrors. And yet—she couldn't accept it. Not on such one-way terms.

"The way I see it," she started, pouring more water over herself and over her hair, similar to what she had done for him, "Hm. Who put you in charge here, exactly? And when?"

One more splash before she, too, got up and raised herself out of the warm waters. Iris inhaled and exhaled deeply as she stood in front of his towering figure, wringing out her hair.

"What if I refuse?"

Even now, as she so openly defied him, she couldn't help the small shiver that ran down her spine as she looked up at him. He was gorgeous in every way possible. She wanted to run her fingers over every scaly patch on his body, over those gleaming onyx horns of his, over his pointed ears. But she refused to give in to that urge in this moment.

Instead, Iris stepped out of the tub, daring to show him her back. She went to the cabinets and looked for some towels to dry herself with.

"Let's say I do refuse your terms. What will you do? Tie me up and lock me away where no one can find me? Don't be ridiculous."

One drawer, then two. Nothing. Then, upon opening the third, she finally found what she had been looking for. She grabbed a second one for him as well.

"What should stop me from sneaking away in the middle of the night and getting the job done myself? Unlike you, I know where their stronghold is. I know who their leader is. Do you?"
 
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