I am what she made me
her words are spiderwebs inside my head

It was so...out of character. So different. So unusual. How much of a fucking fool did Tetradore take him for, even after all these years? There was little the Southern vampire missed even if, at times, he chose to pretend otherwise. Tetradore's behaviour on the night of Risque's birthday had been beyond his usual arrogance and volatile nature. It had been beyond even his usual rebellion. Tetradore had been a veritable glutton for punishment since he was twelve years old and yet the WerePanther had learned, nearly as faultlessly as Darcy himself, just how far Risque could be pushed before those punishments became an entirely new level of severity. Their shared mistress was fickle by nature. Her moods were ever changing and as thinly committed as a summer breeze and yet- in some things- she was predictable. She would not tolerate disobedience. She never had. Tetradore, at times, trod the thin line of the vampiric queens patience. In other moments, when he deemed it worth it, the bastard was outright argumentative- even to his own detriment. Yet Tetradore knew when not to be. He knew when to hold his tongue, to look away, or to simply do as commanded of him. To kill, of his own volition, a being Risque had clearly claimed for her own was more than mere rebellion. It was...fucking madness. To kill that fae in front of Risque when already within her favourite playroom of tortuous devices was....a sheer stupidity Darcy had not believed Tetradore possessed, even if, at times, he called the man any amount of degrading names that suggested as such. It was as if Tetradore had lit his own fire, thrown fuel upon it- then offered to roast himself.

Something did not add up.

Why had Tetradore risked that level of punishment? Indeed, it had hardly been so much a risk as it had been a guarantee. It was almost as if that Fae had...meant something to the Were and yet- the Fairy had hardly shown an inclination he knew Tetradore at all. Those very thoughts turned near darkly within the confines of Darcy's own mind as his mismatched gaze lingered upon the panther. Tetradore, in that moment, seemed equally determined to eye a commercial for toothepaste as if he gave a fucking damn about his dental health. Darcy's query on just why Tetradore had thrown himself into that metaphorical fire seemed to coax a momentary pause within the other man- before his shoulders simply shrugged. That very response earned the younger man a growl of disdain. Oh how he would love to rip Tetradore's shoulders from their ucking sockets. Let him try and shrug then. Cocky bastard. That shrug had become tetradore's near signature move since the boy had reached his teenage years. It was...infuriating. Darcy near certain tetradore did it purposefully if only for how very much it irritated him and yet, tonight, the vampire was so hardly willing to allow his own irritation distract him from those more poignant questions that lingered upon his thoughts. Tetradore, this time, insisting the Fae had looked at him funny.

Darcy could hardly prevent that snort of derision that escaped his own nostrils. The beings within Syn had been looking at Tetradore 'funny' since he was sixteen years old. The panther had either been fucking oblivious or, until this very moment in time, chose to ignore them. The southern vampire, tonight, hardly inclined to buy that very excuse. Darcy, once more, inclined to continue to press that pressure upon the unfortunate Were who seemed equally content to avert his gaze and fixate upon that television. It was Tetradore's sudden declaration that Risque had looked at the fae oddly that seemed to prompt a potent silence between the pair. Hmmm. Tetradore had noticed it too then. For all the WerePanthers own obscurity that night, Risque had been equally....absorbed within that Fae. She had acted as if she...knew him...somehow. As if he meant something to her. She had called him her friend. There were few words Darcy knew within that French and yet he had spent long enough at his lover's side to pick up on several of those more common phrases. 'Friend' - even if Risque tended to use it.....ironically, was one such phrase. If Tetradore had noticed it as well then he had hardly simply imagined it. Darcy, despite himself, was aware of his own tendency to become...jealous when his mate and other men were involved. Yet, this time, her fondness for the fae had clearly not been his own imagination.

Darcy's tongue brushed across his fangs contemplatively. His own thoughts....clouded perhaps by his sudden fixation upon Risque's behaviour- rather than Tetradore's. Darcy, for now, wholly oblivious to the Alpha's very tactic in this as Tetradore nodded readily. The Alpha's arms folded across his chest, the younger man leaning back agianst that bench, his emerald gaze shifting from Darcy to that television and back again before he admitted Risque often spoke to other men when Darcy wasn't around. Another growl rose within the very depths of the vampire's throat. How he loathed the idea of that! Other men....lingering around his girlfriend. His lover. They desired her. They all did. He had always known it. That Fae however, was apparently unknown to tetradore in turn. Hmmm. He could hardly command Risque to refrain from speaking to other men, it was not his place. It would hardly be logical for business either and yet- while he could not control his beloved- he could ensure others knew well the price to be paid for looking upon her with any hint of lust.

"What did dem other men she be talkin' to look like? What was dare names? I ain't 'avin' none o'dat."

Darcy's gaze shifted sharply to Tetradore once more. The vampire so clearly waiting to be told the names of these....offending beings. How many lives had he ended over the years for the very crime of looking to...fondy upon Risque? It never hurt to remove that competition. Darcy nothing if not dominant in his desires to do just that. The vampire's fingers tapped agianst that wooden bench in contemplation once more, that irritation still clear upon his figure.

"It still dun explain 'ow she knew dat Fae and yet he didn't seem to know 'er. She ain't got no Fae friends. You know 'ow rare Fae is? Dare used to be a shit ton of dem, couple centuries ago, but da ting its- day taste....unlike anyting else. Fae blood is...da best fucking blood dare is. Da older da Fae da better day taste. Dat one yar went and killed wasn't dat old really but he still cost me a few hundred grand. Fae over a century go for over a million. She ain't keepin' one as a friend. Dare is nearly no damn Fae left. You own me cash too. I'll tink of a way yar can pay me back, dun worry."

Darcy's lip quirked ever so slightly at the thought before his mind shifted back to that matter at hand. Those men. It had been....years since Risque had taken any other man to her bedroom with any desire other then to feed and yet....those thoughts gnawed at his mind all the same. Darcy's gaze narrowed suddenly on Tetradore once more.

"She ain't been takin' you to da bedroom when I ain't 'round 'as she?"

That- by far, had been a point of significant.....soreness for years. It had been.....a long time since Risque had taken Tetradore, at least to his knowledge. Darcy certain that it had stopped entirely when he had taken Risque for his own mate and yet....it never hurt to check.

Darcy

i'm in love with the madness