I am a hunter. Fleeing through night and shrouded by day, journeying through the skies and trees of this time, searching without end the branches burnt within my grasp. Breathing heavily and trained upon storms…I leash my hunter's cry and cling fast to his weary palm…
"What do you seek?" he murmurs softly…
"A memory…" I whisper to the approaching storm...
"…then remember," answers he with a roguish smile.
…o…
Follow me on the wind, he cries, grasping my hand to run, breathing pain and silver as it cuts through his flesh. Thunder, storms, and rain pelting on branch and bower, the night shrouded by darkness and dawn's approach as we flee through the woods. The horses gone and our enemies tracking fortune as they extinguish sputtering flames on a tree-lined path…
…for we are gone.
He thrusts her against the moss-covered walls, lips and fingers searching ardently across her chest and ripping the fine fabrics with claws tipped with hunger. The cave is warm and dry, the blood dripping from his untended wounds causing their fingers to slip as she gasps, still breathing heavily. He meets her skin, struggling to soften his touch and raising his gaze as she tastes his advances, biting his flesh and meeting hunger with blood. Drawn to such untamed cries and fashioned on lashed flame, he sees the hawk within…and values it…
"Hunt then, fair creature…" he whispers against her ears, surrendering to her ruthless mouth as it sweeps across his neck and chin, drinking lash upon lash the lips of an immortal. She is eager, seeking through his fertile veins for the pulse of a heart beating as one with her passion…
Equally, he bites her…
…but the hawk only cries as a memory dissolves into ash.
…o…
"Hunt then…fair creature…" he whispers once more, flinging the wild bird of prey into the skies as he turns from the window, his heart and memories frozen as in a midwinter's dream. Removing the hunter's glove, he abandons it to the ledge and looks up to stare hollowly at his second-in-command…
"Before she returns, I want you to bar the window…" he says quietly, his eyes squinting in the darkness. Cold and merciless, the harsh climate of sorrow scorning another tear as a troubled frown cleaves across barren grounds…
"Do you understand?" he asks, his calm words pleading before the approaching storm, closing his sights as if to block unsettled interests from darting recklessly towards an open ledge…
And knowing the lycan master, the grim lycan Raze bows before his restless gaze…
…and answers for the hawk.
"Yes, Lucian," he says. "…I understand."
A/N: Just a oneshot. Wrote it last night while listening to music. Please read and review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Underworld, Lucian, Raze, or Sonja.