How little Risque ever cared for what small demented minds thought of her, or what she did. One does not climb the ranks of their kind paying heed to those narrow-minded sheep that were incapable of widening their own thought process to see... that she was absolute. That she could make the world quake at her feet. Just as their enemies would lay, like a gory red carpet for her to trudge upon, her very mind fixated upon that revealed suspect, Blue Moon. Cade and his hooligans nothing more than a threat that lay out before them. A mere weak candle flickering in comparison to the vastness of the night sky. There wasn't a singular doubt in her mind that they would fall into ruin like the rest before them. As much as it utterly irked it, she was entirely eager. That bloodlust coiling around her, rivalled by her need to dominate any who opposed her. If anything, this war would help them... It would only make that twisted kingdom rise amongst their tedious rubble, content to watch them burn. Never did she anticipate, after that impressive show, that Darcy had other plans. Plans in which the she-devil could never truly prepare for.

Fully fed, and mostly sated, she rose Darcy up from his weakened state, when she could have easily enjoyed watching him writhe on the ground in the ashes of his weakness. How she often seized any opportunity that she could, simply because she enjoyed it. There was something about the way he wielded his power that seemed to appeal to her, as though it somehow spoke to her own. As though he had grown into his own force after nearly 200 years. That frailty a mere temporary setback, she was assured she could simply remedy if she chose to. Somehow, against all those impossible odds, that was exactly what she did. He had pleased her with that marvelous display... that carnage still painting the ground below with the useless Max. Perhaps, in that macabre delight she saw him, truly for the man he had become, the man she made him to be. Unintentionally forging him into the ideal mate. The fact that she did not break him in his fail state, spoke probably more than she had anticipated. Perhaps that alone made their predicament ever more volatile. That unknown she meandered through was far more dangerous than even he could comprehend, or perhaps he did and simply went there anyways.

Yet something brewed inside that building storm both metaphorically and literally. Binds that she had firmly instilled in him, deeply imbedded had somehow unbeknownst to her had wormed its way within her, much to her own chagrin. How at first those binds were delicate, like a human life and she toyed with in within her mind, as if by some morbid fascination. But in time... somehow, it forged something stronger, even despite her own denial. Even if it was only one claw embedded easily, it still held on as if it were to lose its grasp it would fall into oblivion. And how oblivion waited like a patient predator, but it had seemed to be denied. Darcy, refusing to give up that very hold embedded within her, how hardly realized it, she refused to allow it. Perhaps it was far more subconscious and carnal than that.

His love of her blinded him. Or had it? Yet, somehow she was fascinated by it all the same. A fascination that could have easily turned deadly and yet....it didn't. She hardly understood the ramifications of it nor did her attempts to shatter its resolve prove victorious. Perhaps in some ways, she began to tolerate that very love in some fashion. Eventually, expecting it. Ceaselessly trying to make her see, to sink his own hold within her ever deeper, each time remaining unsuccessful, but also not entirely rejected either.

Risque observes him with that predatory observance as Darcy moved off toward the fallen corpse of Hans. Why he bothered toying with a corpse, sprouting words of adoration, it made no sense. She was sure he was drunk on something, whether it be his own power, or perhaps sipping the final drags of life from Hans. Yet, there was something purposeful in the way that he moves that has her gaze unfaltering, reading something she could hardly comprehend. She wanted him to get to that point and how... she was unprepared for that true meaning, that unfathomable desire he had undoubtedly been sitting on for far too long. How she had let him grow into himself, fed the beast until he made his own demands. How she played with that balance between them for far too long. She demanded his motives when even she knew better than that. They had already been here before once again this very night. From that declaration of love, that undying loyalty when she questioned it. She could see that flash of displeasure snatch his features, one she allowed for a moment as she tests him in that incessant way of hers. He was losing his control. She could feel him bend like something brittle. She could have preyed upon it and if it were any other man before her she would have. Yet, something in her does not.. allows that man to speak. To declare his desire to solidify what had already begun. There was something gentlemanly as he uttered those declarations, truly betraying his age. Men did not speak like that anymore. "Since when do you care what people think, Darcy?" His name it uttered almost quiet as poison sliding through veins, a seductive purr upon her lips as she considers his words. How terribly old fashion that way of thinking was, but he meant them... in every way.. he hardly faltered. It was almost disturbing and yet.. He continued... and yet boldness struck him as he so met her eyes. He began to speak of logic and she hardly wanted to hear it, she knew what he was getting at and she hardly wanted to hear it. "Shhh." She silenced him pressing her finger to his lips. She hardly wanted to hear it, that logic he had used to sway her when he wished to soothe her, or alter her course. He had felt her rejection on the horizon then. She examines him silently.. as if witnessing him anew for the first time. She allowed that silence to envelope them... it was almost painful as it was tense.

Mates, that ambiguous term that somehow changed everything, that could claim another being as their own. Had she not demanded it of him? Demanded him to yield and submit, to be hers? Yet him wanting more had always been there, hidden beneath the surface of him. But never had he demanded more, simply content to snatch up whatever she left him. Anything to get a little closer until tonight when he became the vampire with demands of his own. It seems only natural, proving his strength and desiring his prize. She was so much like hellfire, in the way that closer one got, they became devoured by those consuming flames. She had offered him much and yet still he wanted more. She had allowed him those luxuries the others had been denied. There was something deeper subconscious force at work and a refusal to see it. She mulled over these factors now within her mind, ravaging it until that concept became all but muddled. Was this how it was supposed to be? That dominant part of her clashed with the concept of being owned. How dare he demand this of her. He was hers, do whatever she pleased. Perhaps she had allowed him to get away with too much.

That predator within her violently clawed to the surface, to fight him, as though she desired him to submit, like he always did to put this very topic to rest. Only this time, he met her snarl with his own, refusing to backdown. She should have him tossed off that railing for such defiance. Her own dominance intensifying by the moment. She snatched at the collar of his shirt, pressing him backward against that railing, as though she could break him in two but also pushing him away from her and yet pinning him all at once. She is careful of that heart in his hand all the same. That growl from his throat rose as if prepared for that fight, as if he could battle her to earn his title as mate. What had gotten into him? Perhaps something that always had been. How part of her desired that very fight, welcomed the challenge. Their eyes locked in a silent battle of their own. She coiled as though she meant to strike, to break him down, just as she brought him up from that vulnerable state. It was though her mind couldn't make a decision, as though it simply wavered based on her fickle moods. In a sudden moment that perhaps surprised even her as it did him, she lifted his hand containing that still bleeding heart, her eyes vicious and wild like she might maul him should he even blink. She peers from that crimson heart and then back to him, her face entirely unreadable and yet poised for attack as that gaze soon narrows. Upon him. Her sinful lips peel back into what seems like another defiant snarl as if intending him to make him eat his own words before she bites into that heart like a forbidden apple her eyes closing for a moment as she gave into that very pull.

Mine, her mind seemed to echo into obscurity as she devoured that heart, greedily lapping up the remaining warm crimson liquid harboured inside of it. Lightening cracks violently brilliantly, commandingly across the midnight sky, that reverberating rumble almost threatening and yet Risque was far more unpredictable in that very moment. Even despite Princess' anxious cries ignored as the two vampires seemed transfixed upon one another. Risque so allowed those French lyrics to slip off her tongue as she moved to press into the hard surface of his body, the very act almost instinctual. He said nothing of it. That comment of kneeling to no one save for her. Perhaps it was for the wiser, or perhaps she didn't care how he answered in that moment. How she could have easily attacked him, to fight for the honour of his words. Instead, as her bloodied glistening lips formed to utter out a simple acceptance, one that was far more complex than those mere words. Threatening as the storm clouds that clashed over head, that consumed the silvery moon of her brilliant light. That bond solidified within that very storm as though it were enough to fuel such a force. It was that acceptance alone that prompted that satisfied rumble from him as he easily presses back into her body that pins him in place, no longer melding to her will. He met her with his free hand tucking her chin upward so he could seal his very lips against her own. That kiss while it was laced within the tendrils of passion still seemed almost devouring, claiming. Bold, entirely confident than he had been. He stood his ground. There was something victorious in the way their mouths met as though obtaining something he had long been denied. It echoed in that silent possession that that had once been but a mere hook in her, now had suddenly encapsulated her. How she hardly knew exactly the full implication of what she had agreed to and perhaps in that very moment she didn't care. The woman barely comprehended it and yet, that instinctual pull urged her.

How she presses further into that hungering kiss as though they silently fought a battle neither of them would win. Her talon clad fingertips digging into his back as she wrapped her arms around him, those desires coxed to the surface as though she could have taken him here. When suddenly, thick droplets of rain began to spatter around them, one landing across the bare flesh on her arms. How she was able to tolerate being coated in blood but loathing the feel of rain on her skin was yet another quirk that no one but her would ever understand. It has them peeling away from one another. That wind began to pick up, a whistling sound as the thunder growled its outrage once more. The rain began to pick up and the felines that lingered both above and below began to take cover where they could. Princess only then taking that moment to remove herself from her resting place, slinking off inside to meet the two pairs of eyes from her clouded leopards peering from inside.

Darcy broke that pregnant silence, that rain agitating her skin, it felt wet and cool against the surface of her skin, that stolen warmth from their living meal still clinging to her while that rain searched to rob it. How she hated that cold wetness upon her skin like an assault to her senses, Darcy knew her well, knew the very things that would have sullied this moment. That rain would cleanse the blood that had been spilled this tumultuous and unpredictable night, it would have roused that unpredictable beast she was so easily capable of being. Her hypnotic eyes still glow lightly in the satin darkness out of hunger of a different kind perhaps keeping those negative emotions at bay. Darcy smoothly brought that heart to his lips as if savoring the final remnants with in it before tossing it idly toward Hans as if returning it to him. Nothing more than a nuisance once it had drained its purpose. That was what people like them did, they took until there was nothing left to take. Hans was no different, the theft of his mortal blood almost entirely dry, the horrors still trace upon his face even in death like morbid poetry. Risque savoured in that look for but a half breath of a moment, her fingers smoothing out the surface of her dress, slowly as if relishing in the caress of her own touch. It was then that she finally spoke to reply to his bold words, it would appear her now, mate growing confident in her agreement as though something within him had clicked into place, something she had denied him of. How Risque hardly knew that battle she had agreed to that night, that bond she fueled that would threaten to consume her and yet, her mind is wholy fixed on that desire. That curiousity of his emotions still lingering in the air. Perhaps she wanted nothing more to rip them out of him and dissect them if she could. Yet, that was one thing she couldn't. The one thing she couldn't control was his very love, no matter how much she attempted. "There is something else I want tonight.." Cryptic was the reply that slipped from her lips as he offers his hand for her to take... She ignores it dismissively. Unpredictable as always, before sliding passed him like a cat brushing against what was theirs, savouring in that briefest of contact.

Risque soon making her way to where a slight overhang that protected that opened the bedroom door to avoid those raindrops. Those French doors opened as the wind fingers toyed with the billowing fabric of her curtains like silken menacing wings unfurled. She took a moment to revel in it before she paused amongst them, framing her bodice, pivoting only barely as if to cast a beckoning look, that endless pale stare of her eyes locking with his own, somewhere within those depths was desire. Wordlessly, she slid those straps from her shoulders and that dress simply spill seamlessly to the ground, almost like the rivulets of water that trickled adoringly down her arms, a single irritation that would soon be brushed away. That fallen dress, removed like a shedding her second skin, baring all to the dim darkness, that lighting illuminating her silken skin and swells of those beckoning curves.

Finally, she then offers a final challenge, one she was sure to enjoy. "Go on, claim your prize, if you can.." her crimson lips curled into a barest of smiles, sultry in the sudden but temporary lightning illuminated glow her pale, alluring body as the rain met the ground with vehemence, that roaring of the storm was all that could be heard. She slid into the enveloping darkness... fully intending to test her lover's limits before the sunrise rendered them dead to the world. How she hoped he regained his full strength. She wasn't about to make this easy, then again.. when was anything with Risque ever easy? But it could be rewarding. That look that mirrored Darcy's mismatched betrayed that he certainly agreed.

The storm scarcely faltered its relentless fury until they did, giving way to the rising sun that whisked them away into a heavy slumber, fully sated after that consummation.