Chapter Text
"I'm only wet with the blood you've spilled," Nadya spat.
"Ah, but that isn't so true." He pushed a knuckle inside her. She couldn't stop thinking about those godsdamned talons. The fear that he would put those on her made her stand frozen.
He moved his hands off of her to his pants and undergarments, which he quickly disposed of.
She felt him poised at her entrance and took in a deep gasp, waiting for him to plunge himself inside of her. She waited and waited... and those seconds turned longer and she opened her eyes. Malachiasz was observing her, those fathomless eyes searching her own.
What was he waiting for?
She took the opportunity to give a shake of her head. "Please, Malachiasz."
An infuriating smirk that was so Malachiasz it hurt her chest spread across his face. "What are you begging for, little bird?"
Nadya had meant to suggest that he stop. At least, that's what she thought she was asking for. But as his thumbs drew circles on her hips and he smiled that cruel, deviant mouth at her, she was not quite so sure.
Her body caught up before her mind did and she rolled her hips against him, a silent plea for him to stop waiting. His smile grew.
"You want me inside of you? Is that right?"
She let her eyelids fall, trying to hide from the shame as she gave a gentle nod of her head. She was feeling so light now, so weightless. She would die here, so what did it matter that she spent her last few moments in pleasure instead of pain? Blood still fell from the bite, making a stream of red down her body.
Malachiasz leaned in close to her and nudged her neck with his nose. She felt the tickle of his hair and his warm, steady breath against her skin.
"Do you think you've earned it? That I would reward your lies and deception?"
Despite his words, he pushed gently inside of her, an inch or so that left Nadya panting and pushing against him for more. She would not beg with the few scraps of dignity and consciousness she had left.
"I am a god and you will worship me yet."
He withdrew from her and she almost sobbed. Instead, she slipped down the trunk of the tree until she was on the ground. She felt so light. Dimly, she wondered if there was enough left of Malachiasz to save her like the last time he had nearly killed her.
"Oh, little cleric," his voice was still so cruel, so indifferent to the life leaving her body, "Did the games you play catch up you?"