When Darcy clutched at those sheets to hide that wound it evoked such a strange series of assaulting emotions that sunk in like fangs trying to get to a vein. How for a moment, it flashed across her eyes that lit up like quiet vivid lightning during a rainless storm. But just like lightning, it was there, potent as it stood out against dark storm clouds before it was gone again. In a further effort to rid herself of those remaining strands of it, she shook her head. It had been a trying night. Darcy then claimed he didn't like it when she saw him like this. Weak, powerless. Yet how little it mattered to the she-devil in that very moment. Couldn't he see that she would have destroyed anyone who would have threatened him now? That wound had nearly been fatal and continued to weaken him still, enough to clearly make him a little touchy. Perhaps it was only natural to wish to keep it hidden. With silent consideration of his features and his words, she allowed it to be enough. It had to be, at least for now. Allowing the matter to rest, the she-devil rose languidly from that bed with a new set purpose.

Even with that fae blood still a blissful song within her system, there were still matters to attend to. After all, a threat that still existed to her mate, one she would not allow to persist any longer. Perhaps, she also desired an outlet for that unspent energy and possessed a desire to put an end to this madness for the evening. Anything to allow for a moment of true respite.

Maiming those vampires would be a far too easy task for her, how well she knew and yet part of her still knew she would enjoy it all the same. Vampires were known to be... unsettled after a battle. That instinct to test those ranks when that opportunity struck was nothing short of natural... Ah, but tonight... they could fight amongst themselves but she would not allow them to descend upon her mate like a wounded deer. The nerve that they could think they could take his place. Not that they could truly be faulted for that desire to climb, it was their nature after all. Yet Matedom seemed to defy even that. Her subjects did earn their keep during that war, perhaps that was enough to allow them to live, along with that desire from Darcy to simply maim them. Well, that was simple enough.

Risque was single-minded when she left, taking Chase's lifeless body to the front door where anyone could see, just before she set off to hunt down Ian and Silas. It was clear they needed a reminder that they could squabble between themselves, but Darcy was off-limits to them. How she showed them their individual punishments that had been swift and yet no less potent. That message was necessary. Violence was something their species could understand. What was more miraculous, was that she had executed it so perfectly without even allowing a single spec of their blood to sully Darcy's shirt that she wore. She intended to sleep in it and no part of them was allowed to join.

That very display was at the very least what could afford her mate the time needed to heal his wounds before he could face them. To show them that he had earned that spot and he was not going anywhere. How she enjoyed watching those displays during those rare moments they arose. But until that moment, Risque made it quite clear that anyone who sought to get to her cowboy would need to get through her first. Even in the heightened state, they knew better than to challenge her. Ah, but victory certainly had a way of making one's step lighter. This was no exception as she strode through those hallways to return to her rooms. If only there had been more time. But quick and effective would simply have to suffice for now.

The she-devil was greeted with Chase's lifeless form still slumped and broken next to the main entrance like a grisly welcome mat that she paid no attention to. She slipped inside, the sound of the lock satisfying before she padded barefoot toward the steps that led to the bedroom.

The moment her figure appeared within that doorframe she was met with focused eyes. Several pairs to be exact but her attention fell on one alone, pale fathomless eyes met the familiar gaze of her lover. He looked exactly as she had left him, but those depths spoke of a burning hunger as he roved across her feminine form. 'It's done.' She announced as she watched his gaze turn heated. It truly was a shame that he was broken. It was a shame she could not let him loose. The mere thought nearly incited a delicious thought.

Risque's felines that were left to protect Darcy were dismissed with the barest gesture of her slender swoop of a dainty finger. Those spotted felines jumped up and sliced forward, brushing against her bare legs affectionately before melting into the shadows. She saw Darcy noticeably shift within that bed as if to be sure of his own limitations, allowing his desire to blind him. If only his wound felt the same way. How quickly he deflated the moment he was instantly reprimanded by his own body. This bed rest would kill him before that wound did.

It was the mention of Ian that was met with a snort from her lover who found the bartender lacking in every way that mattered. She could see his steadily growing irritation that would only fester if she allowed it.

How she knew exactly what he needed, the exact thing to shift his focus. She moved sinuously across the room to her bedside table, procuring a blade from the drawer before wordlessly pressing its sharpness to the inner flesh of her wrist. Like liquid rubies, it freely flowed into the bowl mingling with the sedative that Ezra left. Her blood was always a sure bet to demand her lover's attention, just as she knew it would. It called to him like a siren's song. Just like that, he was transfixed. Hypnotized by ruby red that obediently trailed down that broad knife she held firmly against that wound to keep it open, not needing much other than gravity to coax it into the bowl. There was something near sensual to it. Yet Darcy was far too distracted by the overwhelming scent of her that he missed the hint of that power that ensured not a single drop of her was wasted. In fact, there was no trace of her left behind on her or anywhere as she returned the blade to its home. Later she would have to experiment upon the extent of those powers, but for now, she drew to Darcy's side, positioning herself so that she could bring that much-coveted blood to his lips. It was the only permission he needed.

Just as she predicted, she felt the pressure of his hand encircling her wrist to ensure she did not take away his prize. One that she was certain he would have rather stolen from its source. But he did not complain, nor did his grip ever become crushing as he would have anyone else while he worked to consume every last drop. But then again if it was anyone else, they would certainly be dead and he would certainly not be drinking out of a bowl of all things. Was that Ezra's strange way of telling a joke? Regardless, that was far from the queen's mind as the desire to bite overtook Darcy. One that saw to the destruction of the bowl Ezra had left behind. His reflexes were hardly dulled as he caught the shards before they made a mess, swiftly offering his apologies over the broken bowl. Surely Ezra would hardly miss such an unsightly-looking bowl. Risque was certain that Darcy had done the man a service.

"It will not be missed. It was an ugly bowl." Risque dismissed smoothly after he released her from his controlled grasp. So much control from her Ravager never went unnoticed by her. How much he had displayed it that night. However, he seemed far more at ease than he had before, following the moments of consuming his prize. It was impossible to say if it was purely his control or her blood that caused it. It would not be long. She collected what was left from the shattered bowl only to toss it away into the bin across the room into its rightful home within the trash.

It was the sound of his southern lilt that had her turn toward him, noticing that furrowed brow. That question of who she had been eating, prompted a knowing small quirk of her lips. It hardly seemed to be an issue of any true concern as he sank back into the comfort of pillows. "Are you telling me I taste bad, Dar?" She rose a brow in an almost amused way.

Yet how swiftly he offered his thanks, politely like the southern gentleman he could be when he chose to. The Ravager claimed her blood was his favourite reward with the exception for sex alone. Such was a man to only think with his stomach and his other head which appeared to be doing the thinking. "Ah do not remind me, we still have unfinished business. So heal quickly. " Her accented words were offered as she secured those blinds to keep the sunlight from creeping in. As she turned she saw him shift to rub his hands to his eyes as if he could wipe away the sleep that was coming for him whether he liked it or not. The act looked boyish and... cute. How she rarely was one to find anyone's actions cute beyond her felines. But she was caught watching him from across the room, his tired eyes found hers just to ask for her to join him. Bed sounded far more tempting than it had before.

Wordlessly, she did just that. Her sheets whispered as she slid beneath them. It hardly took long for the midnight-haired she-devil to settle beside him. "Dar?" She called only to be met with silence. Silence? Did he truly pass out already? Those pale eyes sliced toward him only to find him deeply asleep. It was as if he could only fight it off just long enough for Risque to join him. A soft sigh left her lips before she realized just how quiet it had become. There was no more fighting echoing the halls, no more howls. All was as it should be. How satisfying. It was hardly surprising as contentment eventually found her.

The war was over. Cade was dead. The threat had been quelled. Those who were deserving of punishment were and those who hadn't yet, would soon. They both were alive to profit from their efforts as they stripped Cade's empire to the bones. But that would have to wait.

Many things from that night replayed within her mind but those thoughts continuously returned to her mate and how he acted without preservation for himself. That just a few short centimetres away could have destroyed his heart and in turn kill him for good. How close they had been to the true death. Yet how it seemed to only bring things further into focus as she examined just how she felt...

The strange sense of powerlessness of it all when he pushed her out of the way, forced to watch as the silver stake sunk into his side before he all but collapsed on top of her. That moment she realized how close she had been to losing him.

How dangerous it truly was to feel like she had something she was unwilling to lose and how utterly powerless she was to stop it if Cade hadn't been destroyed first.

Perhaps she was truly beginning to understand. Or was less of an understanding and more of an acknowledgement she had avoided?

It was not until she could sense the positioning of the sun that was at least halfway in the sky, she shifted just a little closer to the centre of that bed purposely. With one final breath, she allowed herself to fall into sleep's ready embrace.