The world of the Fae is not a kind one to be brought up in and the Unseelie were the worst of the lot. She had been whipped before her trial and as she tells him of her danger, the memory of it ignites a true fear in the depths of her green eyes. She can still remember the sound of the whip hissing through the air, the sound more terrifying than the crack it had made against her skin. There's something unsettling about it, knowing that the sound itself is only a preamble to the pain you will feel when it ends. A warning buzz that comes too late, with no time to escape.

When he agrees to the blood oath, she knows that the look of relief that settles across her face is genuine; she won't go back to the Court to be tried. He won't let them take her to be whipped and shamed again.

The ceremony for the oath is quick and strange, and when she drinks his blood it is hot with wild magic stronger than she's ever experienced. She expected that, but the weight of it's power is staggering and when it is his turn to take the oath, she can feel her knees trembling. The slash across her wrist pools blood quickly and her eyes settle on it, her face a blank mask as the magic rages through her veins.

She can feel the buzz of it in the air, a tangible thing that leaves them both looking more animal than human, sharp edges and pointed teeth, eyes gone too bright and feral to be mistaken for any mortal being.

His voice is firm, his words genuine as he pledges his service to her in exchange for her own and she sways to the sound of it, her gaze locking with his as the connection strengthens between them. When his lips lower to her skin and lock around the wound there, it is too much for her to stifle the guttural groan that forms in her constricted throat. It is all too much and when he pulls away, murmuring words that she does not hear, her knees finally give and she collapses.

For the second time tonight, the shock of ground against bone shudders up her thighs but she is so gone in this primitive magic that she doesn't feel the pain at all. Her head falls against his leg and a languid smile tugs gently at the corners of her mouth. Her eyelids are heavy, fluttering shut only to snap back open so that she might lose herself in his own gaze, an ocean of blue taking her under.

She is more affected than he by the weight of their bond, and its formation has left her weak and drained. Her body feels soft and malleable and she's glad that he is here now - she could never protect herself in this fragile state.

With a grunt of effort, she pulls herself up and onto the couch, only to collapse against him like a sleepy child, her dark hair falling in disarray across his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she murmurs into the hard muscle of his shoulder, her nose burrowing into the warmth of him. "That was... more intense than I could have imagined."

She is silent for a moment, her right hand moving to rest on his chest to steady herself. It would be nice to stay like this forever, she thinks, disregarding the impracticality of it.

In another life, they could have.

"I...." she trails off, unsure of what she should say to him. There's still blood on his mouth, just a smudge at the corner and just as she had earlier, she moves to brush it away with her thumb. This time, she lets her hand linger on the planes of his face, the blood wiped clean but her finger still trailing over the gentle slope of his lips.

She would like to kiss him, but she knows she shouldn't. Too many secrets stretch between them, too many lies.

She shouldn't, but she does, her mouth brushing his softer than a feather. When she pulls back, her eyes are closed and she turns away quickly, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

Stupid, she tells herself, but the fire in her belly wants more.