you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

The pinching of his nose has Vhalla flushing, she hadn't meant to make their encounter more awkward, yet she had no filter at the moment. She tended to be the type of act now and think about the consequences later. Even when he dismisses her apology with a wave of her hand, she still has trouble controlling that blush that so creeps up her neck and blooms upon her lightly freckled face. When he admits, he expected her to have undergarments on, she peeks at him, a frown dancing on her lips, brows furrowed at him, "You can't wear undergarments under that suit, it shows the outline of them," she mutters as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. She had only worn underwear because it was such a skimpy piece of material, the outline was hidden. Giving a small shrug, she notes that the burning in her shoulder has eased, the potion doing its job spectacularly. She would have to tell Spencer that she wanted more of those.

And when she's commenting on his manhood, that blanket covering her face, she misses the look Tetradore gives her, the woman just wanted to die of embarrassment. She wished she had an excuse of blood loss or drunkenness at the very least, yet clearly the only thing on her mind was the very naked, very handsome man lying in her bed next to her. Only does she pull that comforter from her face after Tetradore again dismisses her entirely. In his human form, he was far more difficult to read, she couldn't imagine that he would want anything to do with her after tonight. Lifting the comforter to allow him to sleep in, she's entirely oblivious to the way she flashes her breasts to him, she can only groan in relief as his warmth floods the sheets. She even inches closer to him to savor that heat he puts off, not realizing that she was potentially putting him into an even more uncomfortable situation.

She stops her moving when she's only but hairs breath away from him, another sigh releasing from her lips. When he clears his throat, Vhalla rolls onto her side, her leg briefly brushing up against his before she settles quite comfortably within those pillows. She had almost forgotten that she was to tell him about Ivan. Chewing on her lip, she falls within herself, dredging up memories she had long ago shut away, that pain so engulfing her it was hard to breathe. If she had the opportunity to tell someone, perhaps it could help in the end, help break that bond that bound her to Ivan. Again, she sucks her lower lip into her mouth, pondering at where she wanted to start. Again, she briefly wonders why Ivan would allow her to speak so freely, never once was she able to speak ill of her master without choking on her own words.

Brows furrowed, she decides she will tell Tetradore everything, starting from the beginning, even if that shame threatens to drown her. It takes several tries of her opening her mouth and shutting it again before she can form her memories into words, and when she does, she rolls onto her back again to stare at the ceiling, her hands limp at her side, unaware that her fingers are brushing Tetradore's muscled side. "Both my parents were magic wielders. They didn't have a lot of magic but they used what little they had sparingly, they hid it from me and as much as I wanted to learn they refused to teach me. I was eight the first time I met Ivan, I was crying in a park nearby our house and he came to see what was wrong. Me being young and not realizing the consequences of talking to a stranger; I told him that my parents wouldn't teach me magic and he offered to teach me all that he knew. Before I knew it, I was meeting him every night, just after the sun went down and he would read to me out of these old books. It was in a different language and he would never let me take them home.

I was so young I didn't realize what he was or what he was teaching me at the time. It must have been almost a year later when I finally showed my parents that I had learned magic, they... were furious. I got scared because my parents never raised their voices at me and that night they yelled, asking where I had learned it. Instead of me telling them anything, that fear took over and I was entirely engulfed in flames before I knew it. It surprised me so much, I panicked. I remember just sitting there, my parents watching in horror, doing everything they could to help calm me down. They... they wouldn't leave me," she has to pause, swallowing a few times, her blue eyes shining, threatening to spill tears, yet she takes deep breaths before continuing.

"I set the house on fire and because they wouldn't leave me, they burned with the house. There was nothing left of them to bury. Ivan found me hours later curled up in the ashes of my home. He took me in and trained me and never once mentioned magic again. I became his protégé, his personal assassin, most of these scars are from him, the one's on my back was when he chained me to a post and whipped me because I refused to kill a child who I had become friends with. That's why getting close to anyone is... difficult. The moment I become attached to someone or something, they tend to be taken away from me. I expect Ivan to punish me the next time he sees me for not killing you.

When I came of age he auctioned off my virginity but decided at the end of the auction that he wanted it so he called it off, to many of the buyers' dismay. That night was the first time he fed from me and I could feel that bond snap into place. I can't disobey him or hurt him, if he commands me to do something there's no resisting. He used-uses me as he wishes, that's why I hate this bed so much," she gestures to the white comforter, "It was in this bed that he took my virginity and he comes and goes as he pleases. He made sure to move this into the apartment after I made enough money to purchase this place. I attempted to hide it from him but when you're bound to someone in the way that I am you can't hide anything," she finishes off bitterly. When she finishes her tale, she lays there, her eyes fixed on the ceiling not daring to look at Tetradore.

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered