It's a Seeker's Game

Caedes met Mariah's challenging gaze with a smirk, his eyes alight with a lustful gleam as he reveled in their verbal sparring. Her defiance versus his persistence. A perfect, disastrous match. What a battle it was, to have such a beast's heart thudding painfully hard in his chest. The uncertainty of how they could come away from this interaction was agonizing. So he chose to focus on her instead. His eyes followed that devilish curl of her lips, wanting nothing more than to nibble at the delicate skin there. Maybe draw blood too, for her taunting.   "Masochist?" He echoed, laughter in his tone and amusement dancing in his emerald eyes. Maybe he was. Maybe he would rather her drive a knife through his chest, pierce his heart now – the better alternative to living without her. "Perhaps. I fear I would take any shred of your sentiment, even if you were to curse me, don’t you see this ruined hide? I am no stranger to pain, if it were all I could receive from you I would still keep coming back for more." His words were an invitation, a haunting plea. He was certain he would find delight in her brutality, if he couldn’t have her adoration. Possess her? Claim her? Oh, but what if the reverse could also be true? He surprised himself, wondering when he had become so strange. He was meant to be a weapon for his cousin, not for a girl he coveted. She really had stripped him of his sanity.

As Mariah confessed her own craving for his honesty, Caedes felt the surging of satisfaction coursing through him. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from her, one that only served to deepen the bond growing between them. He was compelled to continue to return the same sincerity. "Honesty," The scarred brute murmured, his voice low as he thought out his response, "Can be a double-edged sword. It can cut deeper than any blade. Liberate your very soul.  But if that is what you crave, I will give it to you.” But what was she asking for? What was the price of his plea to have her? Again his thoughts muddled, clarity escaping his grasp. Caedes  was impossibly tempted by her proximity, his nares taking in her heady scent like a drug — and oh have mercy on this poor addict. He fought to maintain his resolve, unwilling to stop pressing her; because he could so easily fall into her momentary embrace. But at the risk of it being the last, he resisted.

Her mention of caution only fueled Caedes's impatience. She was so careful, so precise. She was everything a proper healer was and more, and for a few moments his clinical brain took over and he wondered what knowledge they could share, what ailments she had cured, the differing uses of the flora here… Ah. Musings for another time. "Caution has its merits, yes," The scarred behemoth conceded, though his tone was laced with a hint of mischief, of course it was. "But where's the allure in playing it safe? You’ll find no fear in me. Not of consequence, not of tribulation. Are you scared Mariah?" He imagined brushing his lips against hers in a fleeting, reassuring kiss, a tantalizing taste of the forbidden that would leave them both longing for more — but thought better of it… for the moment at least.

As Mariah spoke of their shared infatuation, Caedes longed to stop the conversation, to convince her through heat and pleasure. But ah, civility. It wouldn’t do to act like he hadn’t a brain to make use of. What appeal was there in a dumb brute? None. "Yes, because I do feel terribly wronged. How else can I explain the mark you’ve left on my soul?" A thoughtful tone rumbled out from his maw, his voice thick with amusement and barely held back exasperation. What a funny way of putting it. She certainly kept him guessing, that unruly spirit of hers. He loved to see it burn at the forefront of her gaze. It paired nicely with her rebellion. "Victims and beneficiaries equally. I agree.” It was difficult to desire her so wholly, to yearn to possess her. But what part of her? Body? He had done that, and while he wished to do so again and again, that wasn’t the extent of his fixation. “I don’t apologize for what I’ve robbed you of.” He retorted, skull tilting with a cocky expression on his face.

Her question hung in the air between them, heavy with anticipation and unspoken longing. Caedes's gaze softened though she could not see it as he kissed her throat, his lips tracing the contours of her jugular with a gentleness a brute his size should not have been capable of. His teeth began to graze her tender flesh with steadily building fervor, urged on by her bearing the vulnerable area to him; giving him easier access was quite cruel of her. "If I had you, Mariah," He whispered, his voice barely more than a breath between each kiss, his will fighting to keep a levelhead. This was as careful as he could think to reply, leaving the latter half of her question unanswered for the moment. "I would cherish you, every touch, every word you spoke. I would pray at this altar, I would worship you until the end of time." His words were a solemn vow, a promise of devotion that eclipsed those silly boundaries of reason and sanity. He had to tear himself away, had to deny his desire in favor of reeling back with measured control. Eyes locking with her own, seeing the softness there, the ounce of trust. Everything he could have hoped for in that moment. But, there were still answers he had to give her.

Mariah had revealed her heritage as a Mendacium, which piqued his curiosity. He knew nothing of the bloodline, heard no tales of their culture, of their beliefs and traditions. What did the name mean? To many, the Saxe’s were a cultish following, but how different were their two families? "Mendacium," He repeated, memorizing the word, voice tinged with the revelation that family was the reason she was keeping him at bay. That wouldn’t do. With his gaze locked on her own, returning the softness back to her, beckoning her to lay all her cards out on the table. To trust him. "Enlighten me." It was more of a request than a statement. His family was all he knew, their brutal ways, focused on dominance and conquering. What adherence did her family ask of her, where his commanded only loyalty and the strength to fight for them? They were a nation of heathens and degenerates – there were no gods to them, no beliefs other than the Sultan’s authority.