Fickle Flame | OT7

Rules of Engagement

It's cold.

Painfully cold.

That's all that registers to Shayne. That and that infernal clicking again. It just won't stop.

Click. Click. Click.

Like a fly buzzing in her ear, she wants nothing more than to swat it away but for some reason, her arms won't work. Maybe if she could see it, it would help her be able to smack it away. Only, just like her arms, her eyes won't obey her internal request for them to do what she wants.

Fear.

It settles in her belly, so thick she can taste it in the back of her throat. Her body isn't responding. She wonders if this is what it's like to be dead. They finally did it. They finally succeeded in killing her. A flicker of awareness twinges in her subconscious, the feeling wholly wrong.

No.

They didn't do this. He did.

Memories slam back into place and the stark reality of Nichols with his hands around her throat blazes through her on a soul-deep level. Her eyes finally flash open and that fire races down her throat as she tries to suck in a breath.

"So sweet," a rough, guttural voice snarls. Fire blooms through her again. It's at that moment she realizes it's not the memories that have her burning, it's the teeth shredding through the flesh of her neck like it's wet tissue paper.

Shayne tries to cry out but the only thing that emits from her is a wet gurgling mewl. Nichols' heavy body pins her to Seokjin's bed. She can feel a sticky, warm wetness soaking into the blankets and mattress beneath her. Blood. Her blood; too much of it.

With feeble, half-numb fingers, Shayne tries to swat at Nicholas. The best she can do is get a hand around one of his forearms and squeeze. "P-plea—, "she tries again, but the word is choked with coppery liquid that bubbles up into her throat.

Her vision becomes fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness seeping back in. It's a slow slide into the darkness. Everything feels so heavy. The clicking has thankfully stopped with Nichols fully focused on the reopened wound in her neck. He laps and slurps at it with a sick glee, murmuring incoherent words of praise and delight.

"It's a wonder they haven't done this themselves," he whispers, dragging his sharp teeth over the wound and making it froth with new blood. "I may have gotten a bit carried away with my licking, my saliva has nearly closed Jimin's bite back up. We can't have that, now can we?"

Over the ringing in her ears, Shayne faintly hears a vicious howl echo down the hall from the other side of the door. There is a loud crash from behind Nichols who grunts in alarm before being bodily snatched off of her. Shayne tries to blink her eyes clear to see what's going on. The only thing she's able to make out is an awful cracking sound, like a rock being snapped in half, and then a giant shadow looms over the bed.

It takes a moment but she realizes it's not a shadow, but a large pitch-black wolf with piercing, moss-colored eyes. There is black blood and saliva coating its snout and jaws. A few wet drops mist her face as the wolf huffs a hot gush of air in her direction. The wolf snuffs its large, wet nose against her shoulder and gives a low-pitched whine.

The large shape coalesces, shrinking down and fading in color until a disheveled Taehyung is kneeling over her. A small sob shakes her body, more blood gurgling up into her mouth turning it into a choked, wet rattle.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Taehyung curses, clamping a hand onto Shayne's neck. "I've never done this before," he growls in frustration. "Let me just—," he works his tongue around inside his mouth before leaning down and replacing his hand with it. A shudder runs through his body and his muscles tense. His tongue presses along the bite that's been made even more jagged by Nichols. With slow and restrained motions, Taehyung works his saliva into the wound and sighs when he feels the flesh start to knit back together.