at my feet you'll bow to me
That groan of pain ripped from Tetradore's lips rang free, and his head sagged backwards, as he lost the strength to hold it up. The notable thud against the dark stained wainscoting only momentarily caused her gaze to flicker upward to the sight, the predator stirred within her wanting to latch onto that weakness, like a big cat watching its prey stumble and instinct to make its move took hold. His blood that wept in mourning for its broken state only threatened to taunt her more. Yet even despite his current predicament, she did not veer from her task nor offer him more than a moment's reprieve. Those once intense emerald eyes were no longer able to hold his defiant indignation as he watched her execute her plans.. only for them to soften and lose the ability to lose focus upon that incision she had made and her entirely.

It was far too much blood to lose, she knew this in the back of her mind. Even as part of her resented the waste and the mess. It added constricting limitations to how much time she had, warnings that could not be ignored. It was that notion that caused her to move as she offered him no warning, her pet seemed entirely unaware of the shift of hand or that she suddenly held the charm in instead of the knife, or that she moved with a rapidness before plunging her very hand through the hole she had made with that blade.

She was met with the satisfying sound of breaking bones, the wet sound of flesh near squelching at her suddenly violent manoeuvre. But those sounds were nothing in comparison to the symphony of his scream! That clear sound of agony, a rare sound she had earned for herself and stolen from him only proved who had all the control. Lost to the zeal of that moment, her hand remained within him, savouring that very moment she had stolen. No, nothing could deter the relentless feline queen, not with the feel of the heated, frantic heart. How she relished in it, lingered longer than she had to just to feel that desperate muscle which pumped against her very hand. How in that very moment his very life was in the literal sense, within her cruel hands. The woman lost to the moment and utter fascination with the grotesque sight of her hand that disappeared in that struggling body. Yet for a fraction of a moment, when a final defenceless whimper escaped him... there was a moment when she thought this might have pushed him well beyond his true limits. He looked up to the ceiling with unseeing eyes as if praying to a god that would not hear him, blinded by his own physical pain as his body so desperately put its everything to survive. How that predatory nature within herself nearly snapped as that desire to feed while he was on the cusp nearly won out. But she remained perfectly in control even though those urges screamed not to, even in that entranced sadism.

Tetradore was so very close to death without her intervention. His consciousness was a thing so fleeting and fragile despite how much he clung to life. All she had to do was pull out that very hand and leave the charm within. Then that process would be complete. It was a pity he couldn't hold on longer and give her more time to explore such intriguing facets. Yet in this, she was denied. The vampire queen left the charm as her hand languidly pulled from his still warm chest. She wore his blood-like a single fitted glove that glistened in the dimly lit room, the dying choking sound of his breath filled the air with the overwhelming scent of his blood. No mortal being could survive this level of damage. The she-devil had never seen it without some level of magical intervention.

Despite his impressive will, his body was rapidly shutting down around him. She drew back, just enough to straighten and stand, to observe the gory scene before her in blase consideration. This was not how she intended for it to go and the end result would be the same so in this, it hardly seemed to matter.

Death. It was hardly so ceremonious as the artists and the poets claimed it to be and yet try as they might, none seemed to capture it just right in her opinion. She had seen so many countless deaths before. In this, she could have been an expert. But she did not waste time on creating poetry or the like. But even she could not deny that it was art. The stillness of this particular death that none was more perfectly still than this one. For several moments there was no sound of his heart, just nothing as he sat there, propped against the wall surrounded by his wasted blood. Her own hand drew to her lips to simply taste the familiarity of what coated her fingers.

Wasn't something supposed to happen? She waited, as she eyed him impassively, only he didn't stir, not even a little. There was no hint that the magic had taken hold. Perhaps she had installed it wrong.

That would be a fatal error.

In that case, her alpha pet might well and truly be dead. Oh. Her perfectly manicured dark brows pinched into a tiny frown on her pretty porcelain features. The closest image to a look of concern she has had over her pet. Had this theory been incorrect? Pale, intelligent eyes narrowed as she wondered if she had not gone deep enough with the charm. She supposed she could give it a few moments. It should have worked in the same way the necklace had.

That was until it began, only a little trickle of imperceptible magic, at first that was hardly noticeable. She wasn't even aware of it. Not at first, not until he all but erupted into surprising flames. The she-devil was not prepared for something so intensely hot and bright, assaulting her sensitive vision. Intrigue and a hint of irritation kept her from looking away. She was forced to take a step back as his whole body became engulfed, unwilling to allow her lacy dress to be caught in the aftermath, even though a single obstinate ember landed and dared to threaten to catch fire to the expensive rug that lay over the hardwood floor below which she immediately snuffed out with the sole of her shoe. His flames charred the charred wall like a halo of charcoal that expanded too far, creeping up higher but not quite touching the ceiling. Yet... nothing truly went up into flames beyond Tetradore himself. Anything she might have relished in the sight of was dampened by the messiness of it and the very obvious concern for fire within her abode. It was perhaps fortunate that it was over quickly, as ash coated the floor in filth instead of those destructive flames.

No hint of the man remained. Not even the charm was left behind. Moments of stillness remained as she paused, looking to where he had been.

All that was left of the notorious alpha, was a pile of ash. A charred mess of ruin.

A French curse peeled off of her tongue as the heat from the fire and any sign of it or Tetradore was simply gone. In the all too quiet remnants of that moment, she parted her lips to speak. "Is that all?" She finally questioned in her mother tongue to no one that could or would answer her. A slow-moving roll of anger brushed to the surface as she was met with nothingness as if Tetradore was defiant, even in death. At first, she almost missed that the ash began to move and contort in the barest of ways as that magic began to work. The she-devil took a step back just to get a better view and watch with pale, calculating and perhaps curious eyes as he slowly began to reform right before her very eyes. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. What was once ash had become a man renewed. He had risen from the ashes like a phoenix only to be curled like a devoted servant upon the floor at her feet. He looked so... vulnerable like a child in the shape of a man. Not a resurrected creature of legend, but even then she could not look away. Not even distracted by his obvious nudity either but entirely clouded by what had just transpired.

It was the first desperate gasp, the first sound of lungs greedily demanding its fill of oxygen once more that brought forth a warped fascination. How she watched so closely to every last struggling movement, involuntary twitch of the man before her. She made no move to close the distance between them.

It worked.

How her nefarious mind began to churn and ignite much like he had when the flames consumed him whole. It worked. Even despite the risk that it would not when that bind from the chain was broken. The benefits outweighed the risk, she decided. The weapon he could become. No longer did she need to hold back. As he was truly a virtually, near indestructible weapon for a pet at her side. The vampire queen knew it was all a part of her plan and yet it was another to see it come to fruition right before her very eyes. Time was no longer a tangible thing within her mind as she studied how that death and rebirth occurred. It seemed less painful than she thought it would be, despite how his body reacted, blinking rapidly to bring forth a certain level of clarity.

The assault upon him was undoubtedly disorienting that it was impossible to tell if that frown that formed upon his face as he looked up at her was one out of confusion or irritation directed at her, or perhaps, both. Those particular faces on her pet all looked the same to her. The fact that it had worked was enough to distract her from the notion that the entire section next to the door of that room was now an ugly charred black and the vile scent of smoke assaulted her nose. She hadn't expected actual flames. She strode forward in her usual, feline mesmeric grace as he rose enough to sit but did not try to rise. Those pale, hypnotic and calculating eyes watched the man with a boring intensity. "Tres bon, mon chat." She praised even as he struggled to come to, but he was surely lucid enough to understand her words. "A phoenix embodied into a cat. Now that is new as it is memorable.." She practically purred although there was something darkly saccharine that drenched her somewhat obscure words.

She suddenly reached down to lace her blood-stained fingers through the curly mop of his head to turn his head from left to right slowly inspecting him as if expecting him to be somewhat different. But the earring she had pierced earlier that night still remained covertly hidden behind the dark tangle of his hair. He looked well and truly the same, including those striking emerald eyes. But how many deaths would it take to change that defiant stare?

A slow lethal smile, if one could call it that, began to spread across her slightly hued lips. "You are whole." She mused out loud. "You will be much harder to kill now. Or rather... stay dead." There was something insidiously knowing that lurked behind that statement, as she held yet another weakness of his, known and held by her. How even this form of immortality could be temporary. A spell trapped within his chest made him the perfect indestructible soldier. Yet another thing to hold over the difficult alpha that refused to come to obedience. Now, at least she insured that day would come. It was only a matter of when. But that drew further from her mind as the moments between them stretched out.

"Oh Tetty." A thought drew to the forefront of her mind, a nagging question burrowing within her mind. "I am... a little curious to know." She held her hand still fisting his hair with a little pressure as she made sure those too vibrant eyes trained upon her before she continued.

"Tell me, where did you go when you died?" She questioned almost delicately soft and for once she was truly curious (perhaps if one could call it that), a hint of it appearing behind that analytical gaze that for a few scant moments made her look almost human, at least, the first time she appeared so in the face of him.

I like you damaged, but I need something left
Something for me, something for me to wreck