Katarina and Ryland looked moodily into the fire. Dusk had fallen a few hours ago. After a quiet dinner around a central fire, the group had divided into tiny clusters of tents and personal fires.

Soraka stilled lay huddled in Ryland's lap. She hadn't moved or opened her eyes at all.

The forest around them was completely black, impenetrable even to Kat – and she had good night vision.

Katarina stirred. "The way you're obsessed with Ezreal is getting to me," she said quietly. Ryland took it in stride. It took a lot of trust for a Noxian to confess being troubled by attraction. Generally they didn't get attached, taking lovers of all kinds, instead.

Ryland took a deep breath. "What would you like me to do?"

"Give me permission to roam." Kat arched her back, cracking it. Ryland groaned inwardly. Not because of her insatiable sexual appetite – he'd known about that when they'd entered into their relationship.

"Just…don't make a mess of politics in this camp. I'd like for us to stay alive."

"What, no Tryndamere?" Katarina snickered. "He's not really my type."

"No Varadi or Ashe or Sejuani, either."

Kat looked over at him, eyes gleaming as the fire painted whispering shadows over her skin. He could tell their talk of limits and conquests was turning her on. Sometimes Ryland wondered if Noxians loved the emotional currents surrounding sex as much as the act itself.

He waited for his body to respond. It didn't. He was still too worried about Soraka.

It was healthiest for Kat to stray. She saw his lack of interest. It infuriated her – the worst sin in their relationship was not giving Kat attention in relation to sex.

"What about Ezreal?" Katarina laughed, revealing her large canine teeth. Ryland found himself wondering, not for the first time, if she had traces of vampress or succubus in her bloodline.

Then his overtired brain processed what she'd said.

"What? Kat, no. He has enough problems as it is. No."

"Why not?" she teased. "He's not politically affiliated, he's young, he's stupid – "

"He's not stupid."

Kat eyed him steadily. "You'll actually be jealous, won't you?"

Ryland's teeth clenched. "Kat, we don't talk about that –"

"Jealous for so many different reasons." She smirked. Ryland felt pain arise in his chest. All the usual light in her face was gone, replaced by the hard edge of cruelty.

I can't be Noxian. I can't personally hurt people like this.

"Kat –"

Her face froze. "You love him more than you love me. More than you'll ever love me. All I want is for you to look at me the same way you look at him. But you won't. And I'm fed up with it. It's my revenge."

"I thought Noxians weren't supposed to care!"

Katarina stood up, eyes sparkling with anger. And something else. Tears?

"Kat – are you sure it isn't just the Skelgarn? Do you have your totem on?"

She dug the small ivory rabbit from her pocket and showed it to him. "Yes."

Ryland closed his eyes. I guess she really does feel like this…I hurt so many people unintentionally.

"I'll let you know how it goes," she whispered, then disappeared in the direction of Ez's tent, leaving Ryland alone with his unconscious mentor.

Ezreal stretched out on his coat, shirtless, with his hands behind his head. The upper part of the tent was transparent. He could've covered it up, but he'd left himself exposed. He peered through it, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars, but the sky was total darkness.

The only light came from his Voxstone lying against his breastbone, glowing a soft blue.

A rustle came from the mouth of his tent. He sat up, his hackles rising.

"Who's there?" he called.

"Shut up. It's me."

"Kat?"

"Shhhh." She fumbled with the flap of his tent, closed it, then crawled beside him. Her silky hair brushed his bare shoulder. Ezreal caught a whiff of cinnamon and cherry.

"What –"

"Shut up." She covered his mouth with her hand. "And don't move. No surprises. I'm serious."

He became very still. Kat could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand and restrained her urge to laugh. He could be brave on the battlefield, but on his home turf he was weak, submissive.

"I saw the way you looked at me earlier. Jarvan did it too." She shrugged out of her shirt, then her bra, her arms rustling against the walls of the tent. The Voxstone's light revealed her breasts, pert in the cool night air.

Ezreal shivered. He should have been aroused, but anger – even hatred – was roiling off of Kat.

It scared him.

"Take your pants off, pretty boy."

"I don't want to," he said softly. "Where's Ryland?"

"I don't want to hear anything about Ryland. I'm tired of you talking about him. Just like I'm tired of him talking about you. But this isn't about that."

The anger in her eyes said otherwise. Oh, this is totally about that. Dammit, Ryland. What'd you do to her?

"I can hear what you're thinking," she snapped. "But I won't have to deal with that much longer."

"Are you going to kill me?" Ezreal watched with wide blue eyes as she pulled her own pants off, leaving her in black silk panties. Even naked, she stilled looked deadly.

"No. I'm not suicidal. Even I wouldn't be able to stop hundreds of angry people. Take your pants off."

He shook his head, sitting up. "Lux and I are in a closed relation – "

His refusal made her even angrier. Before he knew it, she pushed him down, covering his mouth with hers, muffling his soft cry of indignation. She bit his bottom lip, then his neck, near his pulse. He felt her tongue brush the lobe of his ear and shuddered.

Holding his jaw, she turned his head and bit him right above his breast bone. He tried not to gasp in pain, but couldn't help it. The pain was sharp and deep.

When he struggled, her hand locked around both of his wrists and forced them above his head.

She's done this before, Ezreal thought dimly. There's nothing I can do.

Her other hand worked its way beneath his waistband, stroking the beginnings of his erection.

"Are you done resisting?"

"No. I don't –" He gasped again as she gripped his shaft. "Please. Stop."

"No."

"Kat –"

"I said no."

Ez didn't reply, instead focusing on escaping her grasp, but he couldn't move. Kat's breasts brushed against his chest. She nuzzled his neck, still not easing up on his wrists or his dick.

"I forgot," she murmured. "You've only slept with Demacians. You haven't even had real sex."

She moved her hand over the length of his cock slowly, inexorably. His body seemed out of his conscious control, his world diminishing to sensations of pleasure. He moaned quietly.

Kat examined him, still jacking him off. The light from the Voxstone let her see the planes of his face, his cheekbones and strong jaw, his messy blonde hair, his taut stomach. And those huge blue eyes that seemed to be begging her.

Some of the anger had left her face, replaced by lust. "I guess I can see why Ryland likes you so much. You're so…pretty." She moved her hand from his wrists and tugged on his pants. "And you have a huge dick. Poor Lux."

Katarina's mouth closed on it, her tongue caressing its head. Ezreal cried out.

The assassin looked up, irritated. "You're too loud."

"I can't help it," he whispered.

She scrabbled around the tent, digging through his pack until she found a length of utility rope. She tied a huge knot, then stuck it in Ezreal's mouth.

"There. Fuck. Be quiet."

She returned to her business, gradually allowing more and more of Ezreal to fill her throat. Her breasts grazed his thighs.

Eventually she climbed on top of him, only to have him stiffen and try to push her away. He spat the rope out, coughing. "No. You can't. I won't let you."

"Oh, you're one of those guys." Kat rolled her eyes. "Oral doesn't count, right?"

"Kat, I'm serious. Don't do this." He tried to look threatening, but his youth made Katarina laugh. The knowledge that he was actually begging her to stop - not just pretending - made this all the sweeter, and sent waves of lust and pleasure up her spine. Goosebumps stippled her pale, ivory skin.

She caressed the nape of his neck. "You do look serious, but I don't care."

He pulled away from her, blue eyes wide with fear, arousal and helpless anger. "Why are you hurting me?"

Smiling, she said, "Because you can't stop me."

"I'll – " Ezreal looked at his hand.

"Shoot me? Please. You'll be dead before you even finish forming the thought." Katarina trailed her fingers across his chest, then dragged her nails over his smooth skin.

Ezreal gasped.

"That's what I thought." She pushed him down, shoving the rope back into his mouth, then deftly tying his hands behind his back. She could barely hear anything.

"Don't moan too much. You'll choke before I'm finished." Smirking, she climbed back on top of him. "You must really not like being on bottom."

Ezreal closed his eyes as Katarina took her pleasure. She bit her lip to stifle her own moans as she used him, riding him, grinding against him. Whenever he came close to finishing, she stopped and teased him, nibbling on his neck, or running her fingers through his thick hair.

"Not yet."

When she was done, she sucked him off until he came, the orgasm making light burst behind his eyes. His skin tingled, and he almost choked on the rope knot.

Laughing to herself, she got dressed and untied him. Before he could say a word she was gone. Still coughing, he collapsed, his stomach and thigh muscles cramping. He felt used, dirty.

Body still rocked by spasms, he lay backwards. The roof of the tent was still blackness, but a light rain had begun to fall.

"Fuck."

Ryland remained cross-legged by the fire. He was distantly aware of rage building up inside of him, and he forced thoughts of it away. It was a distraction.

When he wasn't filled with rage, he felt rather at peace. His world had shrunk to the sensation of fire, the blackness of the sky, and the soft body of his teacher in his arms.

Gradually he became aware of Soraka's lips moving, and he bent down closer to hear her. Her lips brushed his ear.

"Leave me."

"I can't, Soraka. Not in the open."

She opened her eyes, looking up at him wistfully. "You've been a good pupil, Ryland, but only the stars can decide my fate."

He hesitated. "I can't abandon you."

"You won't. Your tent is nearby." She stroked the side of his face. She looked so tired, so weary.

She's going to die and she doesn't want me to see, Ryland thought.

Soraka shook her head. "I wouldn't do that to you, child. I need – to soak up the energy of the stars, and you're blocking it." She coughed. "You're so tall."

"Oh." Ryland put her gently on the ground. Relieved, Soraka stretched her limbs. "Rest well, Soraka."

"You too, Ryland."

"Get me if you need me."

Soraka smiled at him. In the light of the fire, her silvery hair looked like a fiery halo. "Your duty is done. For now."

With Soraka out of his arms, Ryland felt his fury swell again, a burning ache in the center of his chest. He crawled into the tent. Despite being a modern wonder of Piltover innovation, it barely fit his length – his legs cramped. He folded his arms and waited.

When Kat returned, he didn't have to ask. She reeked of sweat and sex. His jaw locked as she snuggled close to him. At her touch, images of Ezreal filled his mind – his fear mingled with pleasure, the pain of the ropes around his wrists. Kat's emotions assaulted him, too – anger that Ryland liked Ezreal, triumph when Ezreal finally submitted, pleasure when he struggled.

"Mmm. I fucked him good. He's probably crying."

"You hurt him," Ryland whispered. "Kat…"

"Sorry I'm not sorry."

She reclined her head on Ryland's chest and dozed off immediately. Ryland closed his eyes. He tried to ignore Katarina's experiences with Ezreal.

Had Ezreal…enjoyed it? The thought nagged at him. Ryland and Kat had had their fair share of kinky sex, but the idea of Ezreal liking it disturbed Ryland greatly.

Kat was right. I am jealous.

And upset.

Ryland wondered about his parents. Merilyn and Darius were so cruel – just as Katarina was – but he only wanted to save people, to heal them.