The Moon's Fangs | 1
38 | pillow talk

Reks

Reks woke before Amelia. He held her close through the night, and it had been the most peaceful sleep he experienced in a long time. The unspoken battle they waged ended in an insatiable blaze, severing the line which dared separate them. The fire burned hot in his chest, even still.

He quietly studied her in the crook of his arm, hand tangled in the back of her hair. Fates, she was stunning. He didn’t deserve her, but he had no plans of letting anyone else have her. A selfish resolution, but he felt he earned the right to be so after losing so much.

He curled his fingers deeper into her hair, which elicited a quiet moan past her lips. Amelia pressed against the warmth of his chest, and the distraction nearly cost him when one of her knees shot between his legs. He squeezed her thigh in the nick of time before her sleep-addled attack made unwelcome contact with his groins.

He suppressed a laugh. His friends would have liked Amelia, if given the chance to meet her. It was a conflicting emotion. He lost so much, yet with her, the pain lessened.

She was like a golden light that shrank the shadows of misery.

Cyra and Yuri would have made it a life mission to toughen her up, he imagined. That, and fill her head with ridiculous stories about him. Sorren would have adored her. Though, leaving him alone with Amelia sounded like a recipe for disaster. Sorren tended to get himself in all sorts of trouble, albeit unwittingly. With how often trouble followed his stargazer, he envisioned their exploits to be a liability.

He would’ve liked her to meet them. To see that side of him.

He trailed a finger up the length of her spine, slow, so as not to wake her.

Nice thoughts, but unrealistic. Even if he had met Amelia during his true lifetime, he would never have pursued her. Not because he wouldn’t have wanted to, but because of the danger that kind of choice carried.

A choice that had nothing to do with being a vitiate, and everything to do with Ellison.

Ellison would not have allowed it. And he knew better than anyone how dangerous the empress had been, what she'd been capable of. Cyra, Yuri, and Sorren had an idea, but not to the same extent. She had been a master of deceit. Her trademarked beauty made for the perfect illusion.

A big part of him desperately wanted to drop this chase for Sio. To forget about this fallen empire and start somewhere new, to take Amelia and burn with her under different night skies, under countless astronomical rites.

Nothing good ever came from Sio. But he yearned to know what became of his friends’ fates, and the truth of The Fall. And after the hell Amelia went through, she deserved answers. He’d face the vile Guide for her sake, so she could have a better shot at being reunited with her friend. He’d do that for her.

Amelia’s breathing shifted slightly, followed by a languid exploration of her hands against his stomach, fingers pressing into the taut curves of his abdomen.

Meeting the undeclared challenge, he slid his free hand up the length of her torso. The peaks of her breasts hardened against him as he slid around the soft curve and up to her neck. He clasped gently around the top of her throat, influencing her head up to meet his.

A soft moan hummed against her lips, against his, as he kissed her. Her eyes fluttered open then rolled back closed, and her skin turned hot and flush as she deepened the kiss. She pushed her hand up into his hair at the nape, pressing fully into him.

Her lips and naked body against him made for a potent invasion. Her pulse turned hard and heady against his hand on her throat.

He responded in kind to the pleasant surprise, rolling on top of her to steal back the control she’d temporarily stolen from him.

“Good morning to you, too.” She said as a sleepy smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I didn't kick you too much, did I?"

He eased his hold, easing up on how much weight he pressed into her. "You're much easier to hold after sex. In fact, the dreamwalking wasn't a problem last night either," he smirked. "Perhaps we cracked the code."

Amelia blushed. She pressed the back of her hand against one of her flaming cheeks, looking away. "N-Now that you mention it, Sio never showed last night."

"Only one way to put the theory to the test." He smiled impishly, sliding his hand up her forearm and twined his fingers with hers against the sheets, preventing her from hiding her face from him.

Her blue eyes widened as she tried to bite back a smile. "Not without a proper date, you won't."

He cocked a rueful brow. "A date?"

"Mhm. Preferably something involving food. And maybe ashlets."

"Is that right?" he asked, liking the way her breath hitched when he leaned closer, close enough for his lips to graze against her skin. "I'd like nothing more than to see you clothed only by the dust of ashlets."

Her blue eyes brightened from the image he painted.

Goosebumps feathered down her neck. "I'm not sure if we'll have time for a date like that. Not until after the gala."

"A shame." he sighed, rolling over to his side. "Warping to the surface will result in another breach in security. It would be maddening if The Circle canceled their little party over a spook."

She pulled the sheets over her breasts, then propped herself up on an elbow to gaze down at him. She brushed a hand through his disheveled hair. "Crazy to think that's happening tomorrow. Guess that means we'll only have today really to do any weapon training before going to the citadel. I'm excited to learn, but I doubt one day of training will get me far. But I guess we'll have time after that to work on it too. What kind of weapon is good at taking down a crystalline monster anyway?"

She looked to the side slightly, as if listening to Nox supply her with an answer.

He snaked a hand under the sheets and pulled her closer. "It's true we may only have time to work on the fundamentals, but smuggling weapons into the citadel would be too much of a risk. Besides, I'm the only weapon you truly need."

Amelia frowned. She cupped his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes, as if seeing something no one else could. "You're not a weapon, Reks. That's not the way I see you."

Not a weapon.

An emotion he hadn't expected clung to his chest. For years, that's all he'd been known for. All he embodied. He was seen as The Moon's Fangs, the empress' deadly weapon. Besides his comrades, few dared approach him. When wandering eyes looked upon him, they didn't see him. They only saw a monster, chained by Ellison's invisible shackles.

The Moon's Fangs had always been Ellison's sword to wield, to cut into any who crossed her.

"Amelia..." he wished to tell her how much those words meant to him, how deeply he felt her sentiment. But his mouth had found hers before he could form the words. He rolled back on top of her, forgoing any imminent plans which involved leaving this bed.

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