My breath rattles in my throat as I try to whisper a prayer, but the words die on my tongue.
Ina sheasamh díreach os mo chomhair tá an diabhal féin.(Standing right in front of me is the devil himself.)
And I know with a terror older than my bones, that there is no light left to run to, only the dark that waits with open arms.
Furious, I step closer to the trembling little human. The sharp tang of her fear hits my nostrils, it’s intoxicating. I tower over her, glaring down, my rage simmering as I drink in her quaking form. At least she knows enough to fear me, but fear alone won’t absolve her. She chose defiance, the terms of our pact were never to reveal herself. Not to man, not to monster. But, she broke that. Now she will pay the price for her sins.
Her scream rips the silence but it’s useless against me. I don’t grant her even a word as I seize a fistful of her hair, wrenching her upright. Then I drag her as if she’s a rag doll through the ancient stones, her pleas scratching at my ears. When we reach the far edge of the graveyard, I throw open the hidden gate and with one heave, I sling her over my shoulder. Her wails bounce off the damp tunnel walls as I carry her down into the dark. Next time, I’ll silence her before she earns herself a second chance to defy me.
As soon as I drag her into my chamber, I fling her to the floor and walk away without a backward glance. After all that shrieking, my ears ring with her pathetic noise. I need a drink to drown her out before I deal with her insolence again. I forgot how feeble and grating humans can be.
The sharp sound of footsteps cracks the air behind me as I stand at the wooden sideboard, seconds away from pouring dark liquor into my glass. My grip stills on the bottle.Cé dares?(Who dares?)
As I turn, I expect a whimpering mess crawling for mercy. No… she stands tall. My tiny, breakable human. Her shoulders are squared, and her brows knotted. Her lips pressed thin in a furious line. Her fists clench on her hips as though she’s the one wronged here. She glares at me,at me, as if she’s deciding whether to spit or scream.
No one… human, demon, or cursed thing, has ever looked at me like this and dared to keep their eyes. For a moment, just a moment, I almost laugh.
Shocked more than anything else, I stand frozen. She’s so close now, I can hear her breath shuddering out in ragged bursts, but she holds her ground. The fragile thing doesn’t flinch. She clears her throat, the sound slicing through the silence.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Her voice is low but steady, a defiance she’s got no right to wield.
“Me?” I echo, genuinely taken back by her audacity.
“Yes, you. Is there anyone else here?” she snaps, venom curling on her tongue.
A laugh breaks from my chest before I can stop it, sharp and humorless. This little human has teeth.
“What gives you the right to question me?” I lean in, letting my shadow swallow her whole, reminding her exactly what stands before her. But, the fear I expect doesn’t come, instead she tips her head back and laughs.
“You basically kidnap me, drag me from my home as if you’re some feral mutt and you think I won’t question you?” She steps closer, her nose almost brushing my chest as she spits the words at me.
Dochreidte.(Unbelievable.)
Words are for fools so I say nothing. I won’t justify myself to the damned. However, when my silence hangs too long, she charges at me again, recklessly.
Not in the mood for an argument,I snap my fingers. The sound cracking like thunder in the stone chamber. Iron bars shudder into place around her, slamming down in an instant. She jolts back, stumbling into the cold metal that cages her in. I step away, savoring the flicker of confusion in her eyes.
She lashes out, her fists slamming against the bars. Her feet kick at the iron and the sound echoes. I inhale, ready to drink in her fear, the metallic tang that feeds me but instead, all I tasteis fury. No whimpers. No begging. Nothing. Just rage blazing behind those mortal eyes.
It twists something low in my gut. Irritating and intriguing at the same time.
Without another glance, I turn on my heel, her banging chasing me down the hall as I head for my bedroom. I need her out of my sight before she worms deeper under my skin.
Ba chóir di eagla a bheith uirthi orm.(She was meant to fear me.)
Do I stay or go? Would it be strange, pathetic even, if I just waited here for her? I stand in the middle of her living room, weighing it up as if it’s some life-or-death decision. Maybe it is.For me, at least.I could leave. Walk out the door, vanish into the shadows like I always do. However, the thought of her coming back to an empty house with me… gone, scratches at something raw in my chest.
Unable to make a clear decision, I force my restless hands to do something. I gather up the ropes first, coiling them neatly. Then I wedge the snapped net into a bag, ignoring the sting on my wrists from where I broke free. I move slowly, methodically, as if scrubbing away the mess will buy me some right to stay.
She’d like this, wouldn’t she? A clean room. Order. Something about Croía tells me she notices things like that.Gothaí beaga, trócaire beaga.(Small gestures, small mercies.) Maybe it’ll soften her when she reappears from wherever the hellshe’s gone.
It takes me nearly two hours to clear the remnants of her clever little trap. The whole time, I replay how she caught me. How easily she turned my own watching eyes back on me. I’d underestimated her.Badly.God, that only makes me want her more.
Admiration floods me as I run my thumb along the groove the net left in the ceiling. Smart girl. Dangerous and sharp. Mine… that is, if she’ll have me when she comes back. I settle on the couch, the room spotless now, and lean my head back. I’ll wait. However long it takes.Is fiú í é.(She’s worth it.)
Another hour passes with no sign of her. There’s no creak of floorboards, and no soft scent drifting through the door. I start to debate leaving. It would be the logical thing, the smart thing. But my body refuses to listen to my logic. I stay rooted to the same spot as though I’m shackled here.Maybe I am.Maybe she did more than tie me up, maybe she bound something inside me I can’t tear free.
So badly, I want to finish what we started. The ghost of her taste clings to my tongue, sweet and intoxicating. The memory alone makes my cock twitch against my zipper, a dull throb that has me shifting on her sofa as if I’m a restless animal. What good is a hard-on when she’s not here? Just a torment, another edge she’s left behind to remind me she’s in my blood now.
