"Oh, Pretty Bexley..."
His words are soft, and he gazes at her with a mixture of sorrow and bittersweet reproach. Slowly, he shakes his horned skull, watching the way her feminine frame reacts to the anger that is practically thrumming from within her, that tangible sense of rage rolling from that golden skin and into the impending dusk. Camdis Lohir had made her upset, or the sky had made her upset, or the grass, or the air, or her own self - it did not matter to the scarlet spattered bay, and he would not dwell on the possibilities. What did matter to him was that he find a solution to whatever issue plagued the viper, because despite their short time together, Camdis' wretched habit of possessiveness had fallen into place around the gilded girl.
She would wear his invisible brand of avarice and greed about her shoulders like a weightless mantle, whether she knew it or not was of no consequence to the stallion; she was his to care for, his to protect, his to provide for.
His to piss off and make glad and make laugh and make sad and all other expressions of self.
HIS.
And he would accept no other alternative.
A sudden burst of fury rushed over the male, though it was mostly in reaction to the fear that coursed through his blackened veins at the prospect of losing her, his Pretty Bexley, the venomous doll with creamy curls and razored fangs. He followed her, long legs eating up the ground left between them when she had turned away until he strode along at her side once more, his expression stormy and silvery eyes a tempest within his skull. How dare she? Didn't she know the dangers of leaving his side at night? The night was his home, the darkness his friend, it would not look so kindly upon the golden skin of a day court woman - not when Solis had spurned Calligo with such vehemence.
His brow crinkled with the effort to hold back his rage - it would do them no good for the pair to yell at one another, would it? He assessed her, trembling with fury and teeth clenched against what he was sure was a tirade. Indeed, from the moment she had appeared, all bubble pop and pomp, she had seemed to be craving some sort of reaction. Camdis glared, ears burying themselves in his mane even as a small spark of happiness lit in his chest - this could be how he fixed her.
"You want something, then? You want me to be something? Do something?" His gruff voice rose with every syllable, till he was nearly yelling at her, this cruel, beautiful medusa whos talons had so easily pierced his chocolate flesh, "Fine. I'm Regent. I lead the Night Court in Reichenbach's stead. I am the Runner-Up King and I pray you find yourself in the Night Court instead of slinking around with those hideous, sand slurping wretches in Delumine because," Because you're mine and I don't want to settle for anything else "They won't ever deserve someone as invaluable as YOU."
His sides were heaving as he came to a stop, moonlike eyes wild with the combination of his own anger and the senseless feeling of betrayal that had flooded his mind at the prospect of her abandoning him.
The world seemed to stop as he whispered, "Is that what you seek?"
@
Also I freaking LOVE threading with bex. holy cow the muse i get from her
