Reverend, Reverend, Please Come Quick
12-23-2024, 05:29 PM
Xairo staggered back a step, his eyes going wide with shock. This woman...she knew his name. Knew about his siblings. Impossible. They had never met, and yet she spoke with an eerie familiarity, as if his own mother's ghost whispered secrets in her ear. "You're lying," he accused, but the words sounded hollow even to him. His mind reeled, struggling to make sense of it all. His birth mother had died in labor. And though she sometimes visited him in dreams, guiding him with cryptic messages and promises of power, Xairo had never dared voice those strange visions aloud.
"What do you know of my mother's desires?" he demanded, suspicion and curiosity warring within him. "What is this 'birthright' you speak of?" His gaze flicked to the brand marring her shoulder, the unfamiliar symbol seared into her flesh. Just who was this woman? Xairo's tail lashed in agitation, claws flexing against the cool marble beneath his paws. The woman's offer hung in the air between them, tantalizing and treacherous all at once. Power, she promised. The other half of a birthright stolen from him. It was everything he craved, everything he was certain he deserved.
And yet...
Annwyn's mocking words needled at him, pricking his pride. Who was she to question his mother's faith in him? To imply he wasn't ready, wasn't worthy of the very power she claimed to offer? Xairo's lips curled back, exposing gleaming fangs. "I'm not afraid of you," he growled, meeting her stony gaze with a defiant glare of his own. "And I'm not going to just sit here and let you insult me."
He began to circle her in turn, every muscle coiled with barely restrained aggression. "You say you're here to help me," Xairo challenged, "but I think you just want to manipulate me for your own gain. Why else would you come sneaking around, trying to lure me in with vague promises?" He halted in front of her, drawing himself up to his full height. "If you really knew my mother, if she really sent you, then prove it. Tell me something only she would know." His voice dropped to a near whisper, green eyes blazing. "Tell me about the dreams."
"Xairo Saxe"
"What do you know of my mother's desires?" he demanded, suspicion and curiosity warring within him. "What is this 'birthright' you speak of?" His gaze flicked to the brand marring her shoulder, the unfamiliar symbol seared into her flesh. Just who was this woman? Xairo's tail lashed in agitation, claws flexing against the cool marble beneath his paws. The woman's offer hung in the air between them, tantalizing and treacherous all at once. Power, she promised. The other half of a birthright stolen from him. It was everything he craved, everything he was certain he deserved.
And yet...
Annwyn's mocking words needled at him, pricking his pride. Who was she to question his mother's faith in him? To imply he wasn't ready, wasn't worthy of the very power she claimed to offer? Xairo's lips curled back, exposing gleaming fangs. "I'm not afraid of you," he growled, meeting her stony gaze with a defiant glare of his own. "And I'm not going to just sit here and let you insult me."
He began to circle her in turn, every muscle coiled with barely restrained aggression. "You say you're here to help me," Xairo challenged, "but I think you just want to manipulate me for your own gain. Why else would you come sneaking around, trying to lure me in with vague promises?" He halted in front of her, drawing himself up to his full height. "If you really knew my mother, if she really sent you, then prove it. Tell me something only she would know." His voice dropped to a near whisper, green eyes blazing. "Tell me about the dreams."