Obsession is the height of passion, but what does one do when they find themselves enthralled with their enemy. Talamayas Sol loses his mother when he stumbles upon a mage in the deserts of his territory, and he is plunged into a despair he's never...
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It had been so long since he'd gotten solid sleep and his bed felt like heaven, something warm and soft pressed against his body where he slept. Energy coursed off every inch of it as he squeezed it tighter and hunger rose in him that had him laying his skin against a pulse below his fangs. It beat so pleasantly in a thrum of life, and the scent that filled him was so delicious that he salivated as he wrapped his lips comfortably on the throat just below him.
"Tala," Wren's voice whispered into his ear
Tala snapped into consciousness, and realized that he was practically lying on top of Wren, coiled so tightly that it took him a moment to relinquish him. The flesh below his fangs emanated light energy, and he pulled his mouth back to come face to face with familiar fear-filled grey eyes. The way Wren's head was tilted back from him, no doubt to get further away, made it look as if the man was willingly baring his throat. Something stirred lower in Tala's loins as he eyed Wren's parted lips and barely open eyes.
The reality of the scene dropped on him like a pile of bricks, and Tala shoved Wren away. In his haste to get space between them, he toppled backwards off the bed and hit the ground with a groan. From the floor, he listened to Wren wheezing in air and wondered just what the hell was going on. Tala touched his lips to feel the warmth from pressing them to Wren's neck, and a groan rolled through him as he teased his fang on his own finger, enjoying the pressure that he craved be against Wren's pulse.
Wren appeared above him, leaning off the bed with hesitance and yet concern for his condition that Tala was entirely reading too much into. Tala wanted Wren to care about him, and even something as trivial as checking to see if he was okay was enough to make his blood pump with an unhealthy desire to be closer to the man.
"What the hell are you doing in my bed?" Talamayas asked from the floor, the words hostile but his tone betraying how much he wanted Wren.
"You detained me when I wouldn't stop waking you with my magic," Wren growled back, and Tala looked up at the ceiling as he tried to recall. Sometime in the day, Wren had been in his room casting some weird spell, and he remembered having some crazy dream about wrapping around him. Not much else made it through.
"Why were you even in here?" Talamayas asked in a low growl.
"I..." Wren faltered and he let out a slow hiss of breath. For a moment, the man looked away from him as if contemplating, and then he clenched his fists and returned his gaze to him. "I don't know what the hell you want with me, and I'm frustrated," Wren spat, crossing his arms and falling back onto the bed.
Tala smiled and lifted himself up to rest his arms on the cot. "So you figured you'd torture me in my sleep? You're a lot more like me than you think, Wren song."
"I'm nothing like you!" Wren growled, magic sparking off of his arms as he walked right into Tala's trap.
"You're not honorable, fierce, and compassionate?" Talamayas cackled as Wren's face folded in on his own words. Vice had given him a much more detailed script when he'd asked again, and it had been interesting to say the least.
