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The only thing Nix could hear was the pounding of their heartbeat in their ears - not the door closing behind them, not the sounds of the busy tavern, just the relentless thud thud thud of fear that drowned out everything else. Despite this, they wore the same jovial look on this face. They clung to the mischievous laughter and haughty charm they had fashioned it from to keep it in place, an attempt to keep moving long enough to shed the disguise safely in some secret place, some deserted alley under the veil of a hastily cast invisibility. They’d had plenty of practice changing in the dark - clothes and faces - and this was hardly much different, all groping hands and fumbled rush.
When the invisibility faded, the weave of magic fraying and finally falling away, they were halfway across Martosé, though this alley was just as dark, just as anonymous as the other. The wall was gritty and damp with the sea breeze that flowed through the city when they put their hand to it, grounding themself in this moment. Nails dug into the brick. Salt stung their eyes. They focused on that feeling, the sharp cutting breaths. They needed to think but their mind could hardly hold a thought for more than a few moments.
It should have been expected really, Nix thought, sharp eyes - glinting hazel in this form - following the unawares passersby on the road. I would have had the same reaction. The thought didn’t ease the twisting of their gut, however.
Patron’s words echoed through their mind again as they shook their head, this head with its long hair the color of honey. Such a vague warning, and yet. . .
It felt as though a maw yawned beneath them, a razor wire tightrope stretched across and into the darkness beyond. Their heartbeat was a howling wind in their ears now.
Their feet jerked forward; as though not of their own accord they moved swiftly to join the crowd. Only half aware of where their feet carried them, the hazel eyes flicked from face to face, cataloguing features, questioning intentions. Calculating. It was second nature now. There was nothing they could do now about René - or Lund's suspicions - not yet. Nothing that wouldn’t jeopardize months, years of planning. That helpless feeling had crawled under their skin, writhing up their spine to spread cold in their chest with icy fingers - and with it, panic. A need to move .
They needed to hunt.
It was a moment before they realized where their feet had brought them: a rougher tavern than the one René had chosen, but a favorite of Vráki and Luria. It would do. Besides, Luria would be none the wiser and far likely to be several tankards in. And so she was, seated at the far side of the open room, laughing as several men tried to ply her with small favors. Vráki knew her well enough to know it as only a game she played. No different from the way they occasionally hustled others at dragonchess. The way Luria smiled--
Nix shook their head.
It doesn’t matter.
He stood out quickly - boisterous, holding a tankard high in some cheer as the small group around him followed his lead. He couldn’t have been more than a few years out of his teens, his eyes far too bright and full of merriment. He bore all the signs of a dockworker, nothing more. Were it not for his handsome look their now-hazel eyes may have moved on. Instead, they lingered, tracing over the jaw, still soft with youth, before slipping down to his hands. They wondered at the strength in them.
Soon.
From that moment, every step was calculated, every gesture, and it wasn’t long before they had caught his eye. He watched them hungrily, paying only absent attention to the others around him. Nix almost pitied him, how easily he let himself be ensnared. He was young and he longed for adventure - for danger. When he looked at them, that was exactly what he saw. They'd crafted it with the scent left in the wake of a lightning strike and the sharp edge of a knife, the thrill of the hunt. She was danger, fang and claw.
And the dark, secret smile she gave for him alone was more effective than any snare.
The chair creaked with his weight as he sat across from her, leaning forward with his elbows on the beer-stained table. He offered up a smile after a quick motion to the barkeeper. "What's a fine lass like you doin' in a place like this?"
She gave no more than a dismissive flick of her wrist as she mirrored his position. "Looking for something interesting - a distraction, perhaps." She lowered her eyelids, just enough to add a sultry hint to her gaze as the serving girl set two tankards between them. "Know where I might find one?"
A crooked grin slid across his face, broadening the smile. A clear answer to her question. He grabbed the tankard and took a deep drink. He was half to his feet by the time he set it down again and Nix laughed.
"A drink is a good place to start," she said, taking a more moderated drink from her own tankard. "There's plenty of time."
He blinked at the admonishment, a brilliant blush crawling over his cheeks and up his ears, disappearing down beneath the collar of his rough cotton shirt. He sat back down. "Right." Awkward hands played with the handle; he coughed. "Ah, my name's Albin. You?"
How sweet, she thought, smiling slightly over the rim of her drink. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
The grin began to creep back, though somewhat uncertain. “Well then, m’Lady,” he said, putting a hand over his heart and bowing a bit. "No questions, then - for now." The grin was rather endearing.
They made it through three tankards, conversation flowing with news from around the city and challenges of which tavern had the finest ale. It was pleasant and strikingly normal. Albin was a simple dockworker, an arrival from some other small town. New. Fresh. No wars, no politics. No mentions of danger, of dark plots - no mysterious warnings from masked gods. Nix could almost forget, for the moment. Albin's face was so open, no signs of deception - so easily trusting—
Suddenly all they could see was René's face and Nix found themself learning forward, setting a hand over his, the hunter once more.
Albin seemed to sit up straighter at that. Nix got to their feet, shifting her grip to pull Albin up as well. The tavern around them felt distant, inconsequential as she started to lead him back towards the back rooms. Almost as an afterthought, she tossed a coin to the serving girl - it would buy them the night.
Again their heartbeat beat marcia moderato in their ears, Nix led him down the hall to the last room. In one swift move, they'd pulled Albin inside and pushed him up against the door with a dark smile. His lips tasted of ale and Nix drank deeply, pressing this frame against him. Warm hands settled on her waist - they arched into it, their own hands moving up to hold him close, fingers curling into short dark hair.
“M’Lady,” he murmured, hand moving up slowly, almost hesitantly up towards her breast.
She drew back from the kiss with a quiet laugh, letting her head fall back as he took the opportunity to spread kisses down her neck. “Mm, so polite.” Her own hands moved down to the hem of his shirt, slipping under and pushing it up to feel the smooth skin of his chest. “Stop a moment.”
A quiet whine slipped from him, but he did as he was told admirably. Nix took a step back, enough to pull the shirt up and toss it away, taking a moment to admire their prey in the flickering candlelight. The hint of muscles they had seen shifting beneath the fabric hadn’t quite done him justice. Young and strong, chest smooth and tanned from the hot days in the sun to match the roughness of his hands they'd felt before. It was a different kind of power they saw now. This was no noble whose strength came from practice at swordplay - it was born of hard work and long days. As Nix’s eyes traced the lines, her fingers following a moment later, a satisfied smile played at the edge of this mouth. After a moment, they turned their attention to his belt, making short work of the rest of his clothes.
When they had finished, Albin moved to catch her mouth in another kiss, just as fierce. “And may I. . .m’Lady?” Carefully he touched the tie of her dress.
“I’ll do it,” she said, breathless from the kiss. “Sit.”
Reluctantly he pulled away, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, and looked like such a kicked puppy that Nix shook their head. She kept her eyes fixed on his, however, as she moved to undo the ties. Slowly the dress - a fine cut, though plain, the color of blood - began to fall away. They had taken great care in fashioning this form and it certainly seemed they had done a fair job of it, if Albin’s reaction was anything to go by. Smug pride welled in their chest and they let it fall to the floor, letting the candlelight wash over the lightly bronzed skin. She stepped closer to stand above Albin.
There was something of wonder in Albin’s blue eyes as he looked up to her, hands raising haltingly as though she were some higher being that he daren’t touch. She took hold of his hands, guiding them to her. “Now you may,” she whispered.
His exploration of her was careful, almost reverent. Lips moved across her skin and she hummed in appreciation as they trailed down, his fingers brushing the shorthairs that disappeared between her legs. He stopped and looked up to her - his fingers pressed into her skin just enough to guide her back as he smoothly moved to stand. She smiled, settling in the place that he’d just occupied as he Albin knelt before her, an unspoken understanding between them. His hands felt good as they ran up her leg to her thighs, parting them with a gentle touch - and she obliged. Nix leaned back, letting him go to work, threading their fingers through his hair.
It wasn’t long before he drew a gasp from her, her breath soon fluttering like a moth in the hollow of her throat. She felt the warmth begin to curl in her stomach and spread through her. He may have been young, but this was clearly not his first, even if he wasn’t the most experienced. She arched her back, hooking an ankle behind his neck and urging him further. His hands slid up to hold her hips, short nails digging in, the faint pain a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure. The combination of Albin’s ministrations and the alcohol made their head swim and a moan slipped from her lips, their breathing quickening as he brought them closer.
With every touch, now, they felt this form tremble, mind sinking lower as they gave themself over to the pure sensation. Warmth, heat that took her breath. Albin moved to wrap an arm beneath the small of her back, pulling her down and closer, and she fell back, fingers gripping that short black hair, twisting. His tongue pressed in, lapping and leaving Nix gasping - he was relentless and the tide rose, pulling and crashing against her with relentless beat of their heartbeat in her throat until it broke over them with a cry.
There was a satisfied smirk on Albin’s face as he pulled himself up beside Nix on the bed, sweat glistening on his collarbone and back from the effort he’d put in. Nix watched him from the corner of her eye, a faint sheen of sweat in the hollow of her own throat. She offered a sly smile. “Well done, Albin - well done.”
The grin returned and he opened his mouth to speak—
Nix moved swiftly then, rolling Albin to his back and straddling his hips. They could feel the press of him against her thigh and Albin sucked in a sharp breath at the touch. “Perhaps,” she said, voice low, teasing him with long lithe fingers, “you’ve earned a small reward?”
He squirmed, nodding, hands lying on the bed above his head.
It was commendable, the restraint. Nix leaned down, fishing up something from the floor quickly. Albin’s belt was put to good use then as Nix reached up to quickly tie the man’s wrists to the rickety frame of the headboard. Their smile had turned wicked.
“Or,” she spoke again, “perhaps you will need to be very good indeed, first.” She shifted and it might have been accidental - but the smile affixed to her lips would imply otherwise.
Albin swallowed hard, hungry eyes following their progress. “I-if m’Lady wishes.”
They gave a dark chuckle at that, leaning over him and stealing a deep kiss, dragging her nails up his side, pressure light enough to leave only a tingling trail with the threat of pain. That earthy scent of woodsmoke and briny salt, sweat - so different from Darian’s expensive perfume of lavender and sandalwood - filled Nix's senses and she hummed in appreciation, lowering her mouth to taste it, dragging her tongue over the smooth plane of his chest to the small firm nub that was his nipple.
"A-ah—!"
A finger pressed to his lips. Nix looked up from beneath dark lashes, amusement glittering in hazel eyes. "Mm, none of that," she murmured. "Good boys are best when seen and not heard. Another sound and there'll be no reward."
He captured her finger, warm tongue slipping over the digit and drawing out a shiver before he nodded - just as eager for this game as she.
Satisfied, she continued. With bites and kisses and long strokes of her tongue, she made a slow meandering journey down his frame, sure to pay attention to any spot that drew a reaction. She was merciless, relentless . When at last she reached his groin and thighs, she drew her nails slowly over the sensitive skin, tongue following after with the faintest hint of teeth, shifting just enough to give them a sharpness of fang. Albin’s muscles were taut beneath each touch, hard and aching and that wicked delight twisted in them at the sudden memory of his tongue wrapped around her finger.
“Open your mouth.”
A look of confusion crossed his face but he did so and she put her fingers to his lips again. Still curious, he took them, his warm tongue sliding over them and sucking on them as directed.
She didn't pull them away until she was satisfied. Her other hand splayed against his lower stomach, just above the fine curl of dark hair. "Do you trust me?" she asked.
"Yes." There was no hesitation.
"Then relax."
She spread his legs with a firm pressure against his thigh and reached down with the damp fingers. Only a sharp intake of breath escaped Albin’s hold and Nix held him down with the hand to his stomach. She could feel him tense and simply circled his entrance with a finger for a moment until he wrested control again and let out a shaky breath. Only when he had done so did she pressed slowly inside, working slowly. She could feel the resistance, took some pleasure each time it lessened and she pushed past it. He was warm and tight - this was a first for him and that only made her more eager.
The leather of the belt creaked as Albin twisted his hands enough to grip it tightly, the muscles along his arm bulging slightly. It was such a pleasing image. She began to move, fingers hooked and searching, free hand giving careful attention to his length - a small concession for the moment. To his credit, he never drew away, blue eyes closed as he surrendered to her.
It was a moment before she found what she was looking for, the firm walnut-sized spot inside him. He squirmed, breathing picking up. Nix kept her stroking slow, rhythmic, building the pressure within him until it began to seep out, the taut lines of his frame trembling with it. After all, she had given him a command.
But then the touches had gained more focus, more weight, and Nix felt out every spot that would bring the man pleasure. She reached up, rolling the hard nub of his nipple between her fingers as she increased her pace, drawing out a wanton whine that was hardly more than a breath.
Already she could feel the way his muscles spasmed, how close. Small gasps escaped him and he arched his spine. His mouth had gone slack, tilted back.
She wrapped her fingers around him then, stroking in time with her ministrations, and he choked, clouded blue eyes snapping open—
She pulled away and he groaned.
Albin was breathing heavily, nearly trembling with the effort of holding himself still and silent as long as he had. He seemed dizzy and it took a moment before he could get his mouth to work again. His voice was ragged when he did: “Do. . .do I get my reward, m’Lady?” There was a hopeful grin on his lips, still just as eager as when he first stood from the table.
For a moment, they thought of leaving him there, tied as he was to the headboard, sprawled out like the leavings of some successful hunt, for the serving girl to find on the morrow - but dismissed it. “Mm, yes, I do believe so,” Nix purred, shifting to again straddle him, pressed close to his length and feeling it twitch between her thighs.
And suddenly all they wanted in that moment was to feel him slide deep into them and feel his hard heat at their core. Almost before they were aware, they shifted forward - a slight resistance, a caught breath - and then the shuddered release of air as he slipped into her.
His skin felt so warm - alive - and now they pressed her frame to his, beginning to roll her hips against his, hands sliding up almost roughly along the length of him as he lifted himself to try and meet her lips in another passionate kiss. One hand held the back of his neck firmly as they drank in another kiss with her lips, ravenous, while her free hand fumbled for the belt that held him back.
After an unbearable moment it fell away with a clatter and Albin surged forward, strong arms wrapping around her, this frame almost small against his broad chest. They moved in time, hips rolling against one another, hands feeling out every small hidden place, fingers gripping. She could feel his hot breath against her ear, the quiet words he whispered a soft puff of air that sent shivers down her spine.
Again it built inside her, filling her, pressing at her throat, some wild thing tearing at her, at this borrowed form.
Her movements became rougher, less controlled.
It’s not enough—I want—!
A growl rose in their throat, choked, as he failed to reach, the place untouchable.
I need—
She gripped him tightly, nails digging in and nearly drawing blood; he grunted.
“Don’t stop,” they gasped, letting go of what held this form together; her hair lengthed, hazel replaced with gold. They could feel the shift flow across their skin, bronzed tone giving way to the white of moonlight, to skin that had never before been touched this way. “Don’t stop—”
Awe filled his eyes, but he only faltered for a moment.
It flooded them, that feeling they craved. He felt strong pressed against them, inside them. There were no lies between them, skin to skin. Nix buried their face against his neck, gasping and crying out as he pushed them over the edge at last and warmth seeped through every part of them. It was a strange peace.
Albin held them as they shuddered, trembling as though electricity crackled beneath their skin. Distantly Nix could feel him trace over their spine, the curve of their neck wonderingly. They felt him swallow, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat slowing from its gallop to a canter.
Only the sound of their breathing filled the room.
They closed their eyes as he pulled away, unwilling to see, remembering the last eyes to look on this form.
The gentle touch that brushed against their cheek shocked them open again.
He smiled, something soft and quiet in the look this time. “M’Lady.”
Something inside them trembled, twisted. “Nix.”
“Nix,” he echoed, tasting the name. The candlelight guttered and cast shadows across his handsome face. A white hand lifted to trace the line of his jaw with a golden nail. He was unafraid, that face just as open and trusting as before and Nix marveled.
Albin shifted then, laying them both down on the soft, mussed sheets, and simply held them against him. He spread kisses along that moonlit skin, slowly, methodically until hands and lips had touched every inch.
“What can you change?” he asked after a long while had passed.
Gold met blue, searching, a thread of warning beat faintly in their ears. “Whatever I wish. Everything.”
“Can you. . .look like anyone?”
They began to pull back behind golden eyes, wary suddenly. “If I have a good enough description, or have seen them.”
They could see something hungry then, one they knew so well, swimming in Albin’s blue eyes like a shark. All the possibilities, all the uses. . . Their chest tightened and they let their hand slip from the bed. Albin shifted, pushing himself up on one arm to kiss along their collarbone, like a wolf. “I wonder. . .”
They closed their eyes, fingers wrapping around what they had searched for, tensing for only a moment before driving the dagger deep into Albin’s throat.
He jerked back, clear blue eyes wide, choking on the blood but Nix only followed and this time their blade struck home in his heart.
Another moment later and his body stilled.
They let the dagger fall from limp fingers to rest beside them on the mussed sheets.
Only the sound of breathing filled the room.
The slow drip of blood joined it.
Time stretched and Nix pressed a trembling hand to their mouth, a nearly-forgotten pain blossoming in their chest. The candle guttered once more and the flame died, plunging the room into darkness and the memory of cold iron bars and colder nights.
Panic broke across their mind and they shrank into themself, choking and breathing high in their chest. Thoughts scattered, skittering across the surface. That fear pressed at their throat, familiar, and they groped for the path. For security. For guidance.
They were only distantly aware of grasping the knife, of the warm blood that spilled over their hands as they plunged into the cooling corpse. I need— They felt the sinew, the ropey muscle, and pulled, gripping it tight. Istus, I—
They froze, heart cold - a memory of a warning.
The words died in their throat, nails digging into their palms, body tensed enough to snap, every muscle taut and trembling.
A broken laugh bubbled from their throat, tinged with madness. This was the price of freedom? They put their hands to their face, heedless of the blood. They faltered, lost, chasing their own breath. Their hands were wet as they let them fall.
Fingers brushed the knife and a sudden determination tightened their jaw.
No. I will not be weak. I will not bow.
They gripped the handle of the dagger.
Never again.
By the time they once more took to the street, their spell of invisibility woven tightly around them, the flames licked the sky of Martosé behind them. Nothing would remain of their weakness.