Shoutout to my awesome friend, SensiblyTainted, for helping me out with this chapter. And also to you guys for being so patient
"Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?"
-R.L LaFevers
Big Bad Wolf: Part 4
There was once a former prince that found a strange girl in red. And discovered a wolf living underneath her exotic skin.
A wolf with claws sharp as the daggers she kept close to her sides.
A wolf with biting words that lashed from her tongue, jagged teeth hidden behind a pretty smile.
A wolf who glared back at him, the beast, the animal of nightmares and terrors, when she was merely a child, unimpressed and unafraid.
A wolf who looked him right in the eye, hearing his story, sharing her own, and said: "You may be a monster, Draco, but I know of much worse ones."
That did something to him. Their shared stories of abuse and misery, how she once again exceeded his expectations both outside when she killed to save him and here where she learned of the man before the beast, and her words. Her acknowledgement of his taste for spilled red, his ferocity, but also seeing it as the lesser of two evils compared to the cruelty she dealt with all her life. Tying into the reason why she helped him over and over again. Why she chose to stay. Why she, as ironic as it was, felt safe in his presence.
Those words rattled him. Unraveled him. Most of all, they unlocked something in him, strange, foreign-and once again she was at fault.
It was something he knew his mother dreamt about but rarely received in her own marriage. Something few of his friends managed to find, despite circumstance and clashing classes. Something he read about in countless books and watched played out across the stage, twisting something ugly and hot in his gut, a mixture of annoyance and envy and longing.
The inevitable, intimidating four-letter word that spun around in his head. Slither through his insides like a snake in the grass. Stirred a blaze of warmness sharp and hot as he stared down at her. Yet as intimating as it was, as astonishing as it was to process, he couldn't dismiss the truth.
"You're staring," she murmured, eyes closed. Comfortable in their cocoon of entwined limbs, his chest her pillow, his arm her blanket.
A smile curled his lips. "I prefer the term gazing. More romantic."
"And yet not any less disturbing."
Chuckling under his breath, he stroked her cheek. What a fine, odd pair they made.
The damned wolf and the strange girl. Who shared an unusual but unmistakable connection, sharing their secrets, baring their scars, discovering just how deep that connection ran. Talking well into the night, until their mouths were sore from excessive use, until their limbs were heavy, until silence spread across them like a warm blanket and they stayed on the couch, entangled in each other's arms.
He tucked away loose strands of inky curls and studied her face, the faux mask of innocence that had long ago been destroyed by those wretched animals she was forced to call family. Just remembering what they did to her, the role each one played in her misery, caused anger to crash over his body in roaring waves. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to allow himself to drown.
No, he clenched his teeth, tension stringing his body like an arrow locked into a bow. She held their lives in her hands. She was the judge and he the executor. The second she made the call, he'd be ready.
It was the in the midst of watching her, playing with those wild curls did an idea began to sprout in his head. Planted deep in, flourishing into a vast tree. One that could be fatal. One that could end tragically. One that was just damn insane. Still he said, "Come with me the next time I hunt."
She opened her eyes and looked at him, emerald greens glinting curiously until a smile slashed across her face. "I thought you'd never ask."
~...~
Truth be told, it was an idea that had always been there, hidden in the back of his mind. Planted in the root of his brain when he came into the room and found himself at the end of her knife. An idea that grew, branching into stems and branches during the long months of training and sparring, watching her steps becoming more quick, her flying daggers making perfect aim, sensing great potential. An idea that flourished when he was at the mercy of the hunter and she took him down. Easily, quickly, without a second of fear or hesitation.
Even so, a thread of doubt reminded in him.
It was one thing to practice. Another to act in self-defense. It was quite another to be seeking out danger. Each men or woman, in the midst of preparations, reveal glimpses of the hunter they'd be. Quivering in their limbs, biting of their lips proved hesitation which would be lethal-and often times the type of toys he came across. Arming themselves to the teeth with flashy swords and arrows showed faith in weapons than their own skill, another mistake which played well in his advantage.
He wondered what type of hunter Little Red would be.
The next night they set out into the woods, the wolf with claws long and sharp, and the call for torn flesh pumping hotly in his blood. The girl cloaked in scarlet red, swinging her basket full of the roses she picked from the garden. The purpose for them, he wasn't sure. The small smile she wore as she plucked from stilled his questions.
It didn't take long for them to come across his newest toy. Another hunter sent out to capture his head, a fool ignorant of his mother's nightly tales. A carbon copy of the countless others he played with before, unremarkable in almost every way, jumping several feet into the air at the snap of a twig.
With two hands, the hunter pulled out his sword that was longer than his arm, struggling to hold it upright.
"Who's there?" the hunter demanded. The quiver of fear in his voice was delicious. "Come out and face me, you coward!"
Another snapped twig sent him high into the air.
"Where are you?"
Again and again the twigs cracked and snapped. His darling puppet danced for him, clutching his sword tighter, growing more weak-kneed as he stepped closer to the source of the sound, a fence of tall bushes.
"It's you, isn't it? The dire wolf?"
Twigs cracked. The hunter stepped closer.
"You killed all those people. Fathers, sons, brothers, even that poor girl."
An amused growl answered back, a cruel breath of laughter. The hunter came closer to the bushes, his grip so tight he heard the skin breaking.
"Well, you'll find that I won't be so easy to kill!"
The hunter brought down his sword, hacking here, slashing there until green covered the snow, dusted his face, and whatever or whoever was in there was either fatally wounded or dead.
The hunter peered in, letting out a sigh when he found nothing, a satisfied smile hanging off his mouth. "Not so tough after all," he said.
And then howled in pain as a set of claws raked down his back.
Poor little fool, he thought. If only he had enough common sense to check behind him.
The fool crawled on the ground, trying to escape, blood oozing from his back. He raked his claws down on both legs before he tore off the ankles. Then flipped the hysterical, sobbing mess onto his back for a clear look at his misery.
"Mercy!" the fool cried. "Mercy!"
How unfortunate for him, he had none. How also unfortunate, as delightful as it was, the show had to come to an end, which was concluded with a snip and cut and bite.
Adrenaline throbbed in his veins as he slowly crept down from the high of another successful kill. He began to sober as he heard footsteps approaching him.
Little Red's expression stayed the same as she studied the broken puppet. Her eyes flickered over to him, taking in his red-stained mouth and claws. He waited in nervous anticipation for fear, digest to cloud those emeralds greens. Unavoidable but valid emotions to the horror show he just performed.
Yet her eyes remained the same. Steady, calmed, unnerved.
When she turned back to the corpse, she walked forward and pulled out a full, blooded rose from her basket, laying it on his chest.
"A gift to offer the maker," she said.
He studied her closely.
"And a reminder to those what they'll endure in order to receive the gift."
She turned to the wolf, studying the blood on his mouth, his claws, and stroked his head as she dropped a kiss onto his brow. "Let's go home."
It was like that way for the second kill, the third kill, the tenth, the twentieth. Late in the night he'd come across a fool either by accident or for profiting purpose. She remained in the shadows, watching him deliver them a painful end. She watched him play with his puppets. Watched the way he made them cry and scream in agony as he torn them to shreds. Then she would emerge to study the corpse, leave a bloodied rose over them, stroke his head, and lead him home where she'd help clean him.
It should have been odd having a companion. He was never one for partners. Partners were irritating, meddlesome. They slowed people down. With her though, it was exhilarating. Knowing she was watching him, observing his every move. It made the lust for spilled red burn brighter, the killings more crazed and brutal. And deepened his feelings when she studied his latest masterpiece and looked at him with those gleaming greens, stirring a different sort of lust inside him.
Then came one night where another puppet fell easily into his trap, following the trail of snapped twigs. His fangs were out and hungry, his claws begging for torn flesh. He was ready to paint the snowy grounds red until she stepped out of the shadows and into the light.
He himself was processing the change of routine at the exact moment the hunter took note of her. Eyes widened, mouth dropped. The sword slipped from the fool's hands.
"I…er…ah…."
She slowly lowered her hood, revealing her princess-worthy face. She offered him a smile, a mix of innocence and allure that nearly struck them both dead. He tried to tame the jealously rattling inside him like caged animals as she shone the pathetic fool that stunning smile.
"You're beautiful."
She bowed her head and bit her lip as a pretty blush flooded across her cheeks from the compliment. He bit tongue, nearly drawing blood, to silence the growling twisted in his throat. He ran his nails deep into the ground to control himself, imagining the snow was the fool's skin.
The hunter blinked his eyes, shaking his head. "Wha-what are you doing here? It isn't safe for women to be out this late."
A smile served as her answer as she came closer to him. Anticipation rocked the fool's body as she laid her hands against his chest. Laid her head against his shoulder. Brushed his cheek tenderly, letting her fingers linger against his skin. Traced his mouth as she leaned in closer.
Then delivered him a taste of sliver right through the gut.
By the fool realized what was happening, he was down on his knees, red bursting out in waves, clutching onto her skirts as he choked on his own blood.
She didn't push him away. She didn't avert her gaze. She looked him right in the eye as he struggled to remain. When the fool was at the brink of agony, she looked up and caught the wolf's eye.
"Have fun." she smiled.
He delightfully did so with a leap. With each slash of his claws, each scream that chimed from the puppet's mouth until the fool was in pieces.
~...~
If he was reckless, she was careful. If he was unpredictable, she was diligent. He was the beast and she was his partner. His huntress, his Little Red.
She knew areas in the body that would deliver a quick death or ones that unleashed hours of agony. She knew how to shadow the hunters and wander without being seen or heard. She knew just where and how to place herself to ensure she'd be seen, which began their game.
Just like his curse became his persona, Little Red became hers. The nights she went hunting, she most times let him take control, staying behind, watching him stalk and toy and kill. Then there were nights where she joined, luring the puppets into their web and cued when it was time for him to collect his prize.
She was a magnetic to the fools. They followed the trail of snapped twigs, the sweet melody of her humming, and they found her. Her sweet innocence the bait that lured them in, her beauty the trick that lowered their guard. She'd flash a sweet smile. She'd blush from their honeyed words. She'd lower her eyes as she bit her bottom lip, the perfect image of coyness. She'd allow them to get closer, permit their touches. Then when the moment was right, when the fools were ready to claim that sweetness, the lamb morphed into a wolf and feed them with a taste of her claws.
A part of him pondered on the fact he dragged an innocent girl into his darkness. Tainting her with his ferocity, corrupting her. Yet remembering her story and seeing her bruises reminded him that her innocence had long ago been destroyed. Through beatings, through neglect, through starvation, through rape. Seeing those bright greens eyes lit with fascination and even-dare he say it-delight as they watched him rip and tear reminded him that she carried darkness inside her. Watching her slip into her costumes, innocent girl to bold temptress, frail lamb to fierce wolf showed that she not only carried darkness, but relished in it.
He didn't feel ashamed for what he's done. Or guilt. He felt like Hades watching Persephone come into her own, awed and enchanted by her skills. Completely and utterly enthralled.
~...~
He was curled up in bed, warmed by the fire burning in his mantle, lost in the latest adventures in his book when he heard footsteps entering. She stood in the doorframe in a white nightgown with straps thin as thread, skin flushed from her shower, the scent of her soap heightening her intoxicating aroma of roses and cinnamon.
He was already getting dizzy from the scene alone. The sight of her challenged his self-control. He clutched his book in a desperate attempt to keep himself calm, nearly breaking the spine.
"Are you alright?" he asked when he was sure his voice was steady.
Her lips cracked into a smile, as if to say he was adorable for her asking. It was the same question he asked her every night, whether it was after a hunt or just a simple day inside or exploring the rose garden.
Just as he asked it, she delivered the same answer. "I'm well, Draco."
He nodded, but still he couldn't rid himself of the anxiety squeezing in his stomach. "And…" He licked his lips. "You're happy?"
Her answer was another smile, soft but teasing. "Believe me, Malfoy," she said. "If I wasn't, you'd know. I wouldn't be standing here if I was anything but."
It amused him that though they've grown closer, her cheeky tongue was still intact. His smile faded though as she walked into the room, leaning against his bed pillar. The look in her eyes fired desire through his veins.
"I wanted to thank you," she said.
His brows furrowed. "For what?"
"For everything."
"You shouldn't thank me. Not yet." He scowled to himself. "We still haven't seen those damned insects." A fact that infuriated him. Months now he prowled the woods and still no sight of the fat pig or his whale of a son.
"Maybe not," she admitted. "but you did do other things, Draco." His name never sounded as wondrous as it did coming from her lips. "From the very beginning, despite your cockiness, you'd been amazing. You spared me whereas with anyone else you would have killed with no hesitation. You spoil me with books and expensive clothes, despite the fact I keep telling you not to bother. When I wanted to fight, you taught me how instead of scoffing, saying silly girls have no business with it. Most of all, after hearing everything that happened to me…everything…" She bit her cheek, eyes momentarily lost and troubled. "I had to do, you didn't judge me for it. Or said the fault was mine. Or pitied me. If anything, that just made you more protective. I don't think I ever received such kindness in my life."
His heart pounded wildly like the staccato beats of a galloping horse. His throat was as dry as summer-baked soil. "Aria…what I - what I feel for you…" He envied poets and writers who were able to so easily put down intense emotions to paper. "What I feel for you… It isn't merely kindness."
It definitely wasn't when he watched her dancing underneath the rain of rose petals, seeing her so carefree and happy, sure that his heart never felt as full as it did then. It wasn't when they were laid underneath the roses, entangled in each other. It wasn't when she looked him in the eye and said she knew of worse monsters.
However, just because he might feel that way, doesn't mean that the feelings were returned. After all, how many times, how have songs, how many stories covered the tale of one-sided love? He could only hope that his own story wouldn't join that list. He hoped what he confessed, despite how pitiful it sounded to his ears, was enough.
Aria's eyes widened slightly, then darkened, stirring the desire flaring in his stomach like a cauldron over the fire. "I know," she said. "And…" She bit her bottom lip. "I can assure you that the feeling is mutual."
His heart trembled in his chest. Then came to a thudding, hard stop as she slid one of her straps down her shoulder, letting it hang. "Aria-"
"I never had a choice," she said. "Not once during the three years of my unwanted nightly visits."
The day he crossed that vulture Michael, he'd make his death a slow, painful one.
"Not when I was forced onto my back. Not when I was shoved onto my stomach and my skirts were shoved up to my waist. Not when- not when he pried my mouth open and- and gained his own pleasure."
A brutally, unspeakably tortuous, slow death he'd reward that bastard with.
"And now… now I'm free… now that I'm here, far away from him and them, I want the choice to be mine." She pushed down the other strap, holding the dress together with only a hand. She turned to him and said. "I want it to be with you."
The nightgown landed on the ground with a soft whisper.
Just as his heart and stomach met in a hard crash.
She was beautiful. Not just beautiful but nearly godly. There were bruises that marred her, ugly ones, thick ones. Ones that he imagined were created by hard fists, by horse whips, by fire-pokers. Yet even they did not diminish her beauty. They only strengthened it. The beauty of her golden, olive skin, the sensual curves, her full breasts. Proof that she survived the monsters and came out whole.
Without taking her eyes away from his, she climbed onto the bed, onto his hips.
"Do you love me?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
"Yes."
"Do you… do you swear that you'll never hurt me?"
A wolf she may be, a skilled huntress she was, but she was still human. One who may have faced monsters but still feared them.
He cupped her cheek delicately, stroking her skin. She covered her hand over his and leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.
"I will die before I lay a finger on you," he vowed. "And butcher anyone and everyone else who'd even think to try it."
His hand grew damp from the stray tears that fell from her eyes. She kissed his hand, stroked his face as if she were trying to memorize every angle, and then her hand dropped to his shirt.
Tension, thick and burning tension, built with each button she slowly undid, each patch of bare skin that was uncovered caressed as his shirt soon joined her discarded nightgown. His breath caught in a throat that seemed gripped by anticipation as she lowered her soft lips. Time slowed. Her warm breath tantalized his skin before those lips touched his skin. Her glorious green eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire as they met his own and he finally sucked in on a gasp.
Before she was halfway through with tugging down his trousers, his cock sprang to life, nearly standing.
Any other time he might have felt flustered, but all he could feel was desperate need as she wrapped her hand around his cock, slowly churning it as her other hand slipped insider her, following the same rhythm.
He kicked the suffocating night trousers off his heated body. His mouth was wide open but no sound was coming out. His eyes were stuck on the sensual scene unfolding before him. Her wetness dripping from her, her nipples growing hard, her body trembling. Her hand-on his cock, inside her-picking up in pace, causing desire to coil both from the feeling and the sight.
His hands slide up her thighs, her hips, over to her pleasing hand. Guiding into opening those pink folds wider, moist with heat, quivering.
"Aria…" he growled, voice low and deep and hungry. He used every ounce of his willpower to lie still and let her dictate and not give into the urge to ravish her.
A low, needy moan escaped from her lips as her fingers moved in deeper, her hand moving faster, releasing a stream of growls and groans from him. The scent of their arousals mingling, growing, billowing until it filled the room. Her head arched back, face wrecked in pleasure. His hands everywhere: her sides, her hips, her chest, her neck. Adding more heat to the sensations building between them.
His body was burning up-
"Aria…" His self-control was breaking bit by bit like twigs snapping one by one. Any longer and it would snap completely. He'd be finish before it started. He'd be gone before-
She withdrew her hand.
He held his breath, eyes wide as he felt her soft hand around him, holding him tall. Slender thighs flexed as she rose above him. Her green eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire. He had to clench all his muscles, had to clamp down on his instinct to thrust and take and mark, to let her have this moment. She smiled, sweet and wild, as if she appreciated how hard he was trying to stay still.
The first touch of his skin against her jolted through him like lightning and he gasped, fingers clawing at the bedding underneath him. Her warmth slowly parted around him as she inched her way down, her hips moving in small, graceful circles. Her face was flushed bright red. Her lips parted as she whimpered and groaned. Drenched in sweat, he trembled beneath her, a growl rising softly in the back of his throat. With a last slide, her hips rested on his.
They both froze, panting, trying to comprehend how perfect it felt. There was no pain. Surprise flitted across her features and he wanted to slaughter every single one of those monsters that had made his love expect agony when entered. Dripping wet and burning hot, her desire wrapped around him like silken-gloved perfection. He could feel her heart beat wildly through their intimate connection, or maybe he was feeling his own racing heart.
Hair wild around her face, she bent over, groaning as it shifted his thick member deep inside her. Bracing on her forearms on either side of his head, she lifted her hips with careful strength and brought them back down. He panted, teeth bared in a fierce grin, his breath bathing her flushed face. Her eyes, dark and smoldering, fluttered as she tested the feel of him moving in and out of her. It sent jolts of hot pleasure and sparkling lightning through her every nerve. Her toes curled, her back arched, and suddenly she wanted more.
She grabbed his face and kissed him. Open mouthed and hungry, their tongues slid against each other and lips sucked. She moaned, tears filling her eyes, dripping down her face. Pulling away, she looked deep into his eyes and-it was like a light went on. A light that finally confirmed what she knew and what she wanted, knowing with complete certainty she was safe and loved.
"Take me," she ordered, voice deep and husky, challenge and love a mix in her expression.
His eyes flew to her and she smiled down at him. She smiled as she kissed his lips over and over again, testing the frail straps of his control. She smiled as she leaned in close. She smiled as she whispered into his ear.
"Destroy me."
His control snapped. He rolled them, tumbling her onto her back. He thrilled in the way her slender arms wrapped around his shoulders, the joyful cry that escaped her wet, ruby lips. His hips snapped into hers with deliberate force, testing. Her back arched, pressing her soft, plump breasts against his chest. A wonton cry filling the room.
"Mine," he whispered against her ear, voice deep, edged in danger.
Instinctively her legs parted more for him and he began to fill her body in earnest. Rocking into her again and again, he licked up her throat, buried his hands in her hair, and held her still. Her hands trembled against his slick skin, sliding down his back, nails scratching lightly. Growling, he reached down, hooked her leg over the crook of his elbow and pressed it up and out. She gave a wild cry, head tossing as he pressed her open and cocked her hips up. She tightened around him and he gave a wild cry of triumph. Rutting deep and hard inside her, rubbing against all the places that made her squirm and cry, Draco thrust into her again and again.
"Draco…" she moaned, clinging to him tightly now. Something akin to fear entered her expression.
He dropped her leg and cradled her close, pulling her up against him so that she straddled his thighs as he continued to rut up into her. His hand sank into her hair as he held her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He wanted to promise her she was safe, that he had her, but his throat was locked with pleasure. Her body soaking wet around him and tightening. Her hips were rocking against him now, moving fast and wild. He could practically taste her pleasure in the air, so very close.
"Draco!" she cried again, nails breaking skin as she clung to him hard and fast. "Ah!"
He grabbed her hips and rocked up into her harder, faster. She arched, body spasming, wetness soaking him and the bed as she came with a tearful cry. He flung her back down on her back, grabbed both legs and thrust hard and fast. Licking up her tears, he came in a burst of stars and light. Head flung back, he howled, letting it be known that she was his, he was hers.
Limp, exhausted, humming with fading bursts of pleasure, he collapsed into her waiting arms. Her lips graced his cheeks, his nose, before she tucked her face against his neck. Their legs entwined, their bodies still overheated and tingling, he ran his hands through her hair and down her naked back.
"I'll never hurt you, Aria," he vowed. "I swear it."
He could feel the smile of her lips against his neck. A soft kiss was bestowed on him. "I love you."
Draco's eyes widened, then softened as the words sank in. A smile gracing his face, he held her closer. Their breath slowed, but their bodies stayed warm, pressed against each other. Their hearts beat in sync as they slowly faded into sleep.