'ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪᴘᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴀᴍꜱᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜱɴᴀᴋᴇ.'
Many eyed, venomous- House Viper are animosi, silver animal scryers, and controllers. They have their sigil and names for a reason. When Daliah Viper returns to her family after an unfortunate series of ba...
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In the rising and falling tide of flickering lights and shadows painted over the table and our seats, our faces and hands, we are two pale forms battling the wish to end this charade one way or another.
Samson doesn't even touch any of the plates, not even his glass. Something about that amuses me. I smile, and for the first time, he is the reason I am amused. Like he just shared a good joke with me, his caution only is a compliment flattering me, warming some part in me that wants to be feared and seen.
"I told you I won't poison you tonight," I allow myself some small patronizing.
His eye twitches. Maybe it is just a shadow flickering from the light.
"No. You just poison women that trust you and their security personnel."
I swallow, blow out a stream of air. My body wants to deflate at the mention, tense shoulders slumping forward slightly. Amusement washed off.
Finding the sore spots, as always. Samson my nasty rash. It is a good thing I am drinking and he is not inside my mind tonight.
"They wanted to remove me."
Send me back to my family, because I had a few public meltdowns. They took my home. They took everything I had worked for. Sending me to the Vipers as if I was a stubborn little girl.
"So you removed them first?" He sounds almost intrigued now.
I shake my head.
"That is not how it went. You know it was not planned this way. You were in my head, after all."
Bad luck has no point of direction. It just strikes.
His back rests against his seat again when he relaxes a little, head tilted slightly. His fingers lay around his glass, dark liquid swaying. Samson still doesn't drink. "True, otherwise they would have executed you, even with your father trying his best to make amends and blackmail you out."
I smile for myself, less amused now. "That is how it works."
"Your father bought you out, and then he sold you again, while you still wore that veil." The way he disregards me with his whole body and words makes my smile fade.
"Where you born like this?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my body. Two thin arms over stiff layers of clothes. "Were you born to be this despicable?"
"Do you want me to tell you a story about my youth? Maybe a lost love. Some tragedy. Or violence. Expectations I couldn't keep, and someone in my mind like you fear it all the time. No, widow," He shakes his head, hair bright in the light. "I don't want to trade sad stories."
