what hurts the most

Sirius couldn’t change the course of events anymore than she could and there was doubt that he would even if he was able to. His wife returned to him from the dead, he’d witnessed a miracle and she wouldn’t fault him for it. She should be the priority in his life, and she was. Something else the once great empress would not fault her warlord. He spoke her name again, helpless and almost amusingly alarmed and confused. How could she resign to life as a possession when she was once the Empress? Like he had changed from slave to Warlord, a King in his own right, she had fallen from on high to descend into the dirt.

Deathbelle hadn’t moved, Sirius began to panic and then one huge paw was pressed to her cheek. She didn’t resist his touch, lavender eyes blinking open as he looked upon her again and spoke. He was taking her, not as a slave but to keep her lifelight kindled. What little flame there was left he nurtured it as best as he could, claiming his selfishness in keeping her from death’s dark clutches. He kissed her forehead, a reminder of the possession he had over her to go along with his vow. He had taken her life long ago, she was and would always be, his.

”Yours. Always yours.” However he wanted her. Everything was different, she felt the terrible ache in her chest again, but instead of suffering alone Belle was under his care. Her life belonged to him.