Wash my dreams away

Scylla's silent shrug when he pointed out how she hadn't denied fucking his sire was even more infuriating than if she had just admitted to the act. Now he was left wondering if the sordid little fae had tangled herself with his father. The mental images that played in his head stoked something in Saracyn's belly; a smoldering envy and urge to reclaim her as he thought of his behemoth sire plowing the mother of his children into the ground. But it was unjustified. Sara held no claim over Scylla, she was not his soulmate nor his wife. She was free to fuck whoever she wished, even if that struck close to home. The way Sara's blue eyes flashed with a jealous anger or the way his lip quivered in a silent possessive growl wouldn't be missed by the perceptive fae, nor would the glow of his facial marking growing brighter with his pounding heart, but he couldn't help it. That's just who Saracyn was.

Trying to move on from the mental image of his father breeding with the Klein fae at his side, Sara focused instead on the conversation they made while they walked. He gave a rumbling hum of agreement when she mentioned it sounding mysterious. Giant paws crunched through the blanket of snow, more akin to marching while Scylla's danced through the wintry powder. "And what is it you do do here?" Sara inquired with a raised brow to her. What was the point of Scylla's ascension to power? For fun? For conquest? To prove a point? Or just because she was bored?

When asked about the purpose of his visit, Saracyn was direct and withheld nothing. "You displaced the leader of one of Elysium's allies and usurped Valta. You should have expected a visit from their allies to understand what the hell is going on here. Be grateful I didn't come for your head." That was the official answer as far as everyone knew. But there would be no hiding the emotional wince that came over Sara's expression when Scylla asked if he missed her. Saracyn tried to hide the glint of pain in his eyes while they rounded the corner to come nearer the rapids. Yes. Saracyn missed the hell out of Scylla. He had missed her every single day since she'd left. Every time he looked at their children he was reminded of the sacrifice he had made to have them. He'd broken Scylla in the most selfish way to get what he wanted, and now that he had everything he desired, he couldn't escape his own guilt. They could have been magnificent together.

"I wanted to know..." Sara trailed off. What did he want to know? That she was okay? That she was moving on? That she'd thrived despite how he'd fucked up? "...what you were up to." What she was up to? Saracyn, are you fucking dense? Even he cringed a little at his awkward attempts to deflect from his own feelings. He didn't want to hurt her more by exposing his emotions to her again. The last time he had, she had opened herself up to him too, and how had he repaid her? By tearing her heart up and using her body to grow his children. He was a monster. But even monsters had hearts, and Sara's was broken for what he'd done to Scylla. The selfish bastard brute just wanted to see her again and make himself feel better seeing her thrive in spite of himself.

"Saracyn Mendacium"