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Rilla was aware that her boys had this weird... thing about dueling. It’s how they met, it’s how they first connected, and it’s how Arum kept Damien from walking away when Rilla first floated the idea of their unusual relationship. Rilla didn’t understand it, herself. Personally, she thought that having someone swinging a sword at her would be pretty stressful, even if it was someone she loves and trusts, but hey. She was just glad the boys had each other to work out their aggressive energy.
She’d watched them duel a handful of times, and she loved the way their eyes lit up. The heady mix of adrenaline and attraction that made them each burn so bright. She loved when they would banter a little bit, turning more flirty than trash-talky as the fight went on. Each time one of them parried particularly quickly, or landed an impressive maneuver, she could see the other getting hungrier.
She had never been able to pull this kind of fire out of her boys in the bedroom. When Damien fucked her, he was worshipful and tender, spouting poetry and prayers in her name until all he could say was her name. Rilla loved that, she loved Damien’s softness and his sweetness. Arum was, surprisingly, similarly gentle. Not nearly so verbose, of course, but when she and Arum fucked, he took his time with every movement. Every touch was carefully considered. He fucked her like her orgasm was an equation he could solve. She loved that, too. She loved the all-consuming force of Arum’s razor-sharp focus, knowing that the whole power of his brilliant mind was consumed by her and her pleasure.
But this, the energy between them during a duel, she’d never seen in their bed. Neither of them were holding back, they trusted the other completely to withstand the full force of each attack. They were fast, unhindered, rough.
They’ re gorgeous together.
Every time, they would inevitably transition from fighting to kissing, and Rilla would respectfully continue to spectate. She would watch Damien press kisses to Arum’s frill that reduced the Lord of the Swamp to a shivering mess. She would watch Arum’s long, nimble tongue trace the length of Damien’s neck. The heat from their fight would carry right over, with plenty of rolling, struggling, and jockeying for a superior position.
Despite all his knightly training, Damien usually found himself pinned. He’s simply no match for a creature with twice as many arms as him.
Then, something strange kept happening.
Damien, realizing that he’d been caught, would flush red. The apple of his throat would bob as he gulped, and his breathing would go shallow. Sometimes he would murmur a little prayer for tranquility, his eyelashes fluttering nervously. He would tip his head back, baring his neck in submission, and it’d be a tempting enough display that even Rilla’s jaw would tense up with the urge to bite down.
And Arum would retreat.
He’d gently press his snout into Damien’s neck, or press his forehead against Damien’s, and slowly release him while they breathed together. He’d screw his violet eyes shut, and after a few beats of stillness, he’d pull himself up to stand, and offer a hand down to Damien.
Damien, usually disoriented by the sudden stop, would let himself be lifted to his feet in silence. And then Arum would say something along the lines of,
“A bath, I think. You’re smelling very… mammalian, after all that.”
He would lead Damien to the hot spring, where he would do a very thorough job of washing Damien from head to toe, and then they would have some extremely tender, loving, bath sex. Usually Rilla would stop spectating at this point and just climb into the water. Damien would pour poetry into her ears while Arum’s tongue took her apart and she’d forget that anything about any of this was odd to begin with. Everyone would go to bed sated and clean and together.
All this is to say, she wasn’t worried about it. Her boys had something between them that she didn’t quite understand, and that was fine. As long as they were both happy, she was happy.
“Oh, my Rilla, I must speak my heart, for it is weighted by worry like the lead of an anchor.”
Rilla was working up a fresh batch of Marc’s medication. She’d made this particular brew enough times in her life that she could do it in her sleep, so without looking up from her workbench, she said, “What’s on your mind, Damien?”
“It is about our dear Lord Arum.”
Arum had been gone for a few days, which he told them to expect. He journeyed south to conduct a trade for hard-to-get materials, and when Damien had offered to accompany him, Arum insisted that he go alone. He told them to expect him back home tonight, and so far, there was no reason to suspect that anything had gone wrong with his travels, but still, Rilla stopped her work and looked up at Damien.
“Is something wrong? Have you heard from him?”
Damien’s eyes went wide and he put his hands up in a soothing gesture. “Oh! Nothing like that, no, I have no reason to fear that his journey has met any complications.”
Rilla let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Alright, then what’s worrying you?” She returned to her work. Now, where was I? Oh yes, three drops of this tincture, and then I have to grind the dry ingredients.
“I fear I have offended our lizard love, but it is not something I could apologize for, and it is not a pattern I can change. Oh, if he truly is injured by my behaviors, I will have no choice but to recuse myself from his company altogether, though it breaks my heart to even consider the thought-”
“Damien.” Rilla once again put down her work and took Damien by the shoulders. “Breathe, hm?”
Damien took a few deep breaths, and Rilla felt some of the tension release from his frame. “Tranquility. I am but a raft upon the waves of my thoughts.”
“Tell me from the beginning, what is this offense you think you’ve caused?”
Damien winced. “Well, I fear that he feels… Ahem. I sometimes find myself... That is –”
Rilla had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Damien. It’s just me. You can tell me anything.”
He muttered another prayer under his breath before letting the words pour out. “I find myself quite attracted to him when he is at his most monstrous. I respond so instinctively to his strength. When we duel, oh, my Rilla, I have never felt so desperately at someone’s mercy. But he always retreats. He barely looks at me, he avoids my touch, until the fight is gone from our bodies. And now, he is avoiding me, going on long journeys and denying my company. Oh, he must think me such a brute, that I should crave the harm he could exact upon me when all he truly wishes to offer me is softness. And I do love his softness, do not misunderstand me, when he holds me in his arms and makes love to me so tenderly I feel like a dewdrop rolling into the bell of a lily, inexorably drawn closer and further into his embrace, I only… well… I cannot stop myself from wanting more. And I’m sure he can read me like the pages of a book.”
Rilla sighed. “Let me see if I have this right? You want him to be rough with you, but you’re afraid he feels… objectified?”
“What other explanation can there be? He has repeatedly had me in his clutches, pinned and willing, oh Saint Damien forgive me, so willing, only to recoil. And, I fear, I cannot hide how deeply I desire him in that state, when he looms over me and his teeth glint in the fading light, something deep in my mind tells me that this is the last thing I will ever see, and I cannot contain the rush I feel. Oh, he must think me such a foul creature. I have his love and his tenderness and still I crave his violence.”
She searched his face for a moment. “This is about more than just a little roughhousing, isn’t it?”
Damien stared at the ground. “Oh, my Rilla, now you too find me despicable.”
“No, I’m not judging you, I’m just trying to understand. What, exactly, do you want from Arum?”
Damien sighed. “I cannot fully explain, but, I want the natural conclusion to our duels. I want him to continue his momentum until he is sated. I want… his claws, his teeth, his knives.” Damien shook his head, hard. “It is too much to ask of him.”
“Oh, Damien.” Rilla’s instinct was to comfort him, assure him that Arum couldn’t possibly be upset by this, but then she put herself in Arum’s shoes. She imagined Damien asking her to hurt him. She didn’t think she could, not really, and she tried to imagine how she would feel, tip-toeing up to the line of actual pain, actual harm, and then retreating. She tried to imagine bearing the blow of Damien’s disappointment every time she drew back. She imagined how hollow his reassurances would feel, every time he told her he was perfectly happy with the sex they could have at her comfort level, when he couldn’t help but telegraph his hunger for more.
It would be… hard, to say the least.
“You see now, the way my depravity is pushing my love away.” Damien started to sulk.
“Damien, you are not depraved. There’s nothing wrong with you for wanting a little pain, it’s not even that unusual.” Rilla hummed thoughtfully and ran a hand through Damien’s hair. “I don’t know why he’s not meeting you on that level. Maybe he feels bad that he can’t match you, when it’s so clearly what you want. Maybe he would, but he needs to discuss it first, and he’s too shy to open the conversation. Hell, maybe he doesn’t even know it’s what you want. He’s said before that he sometimes struggles to parse our expressions. I can see clear as day that you want him like that, but humans read each other much more easily.”
Damien chewed at his lip. “So many unknowns… I cannot see the way forward.”
Rilla did roll her eyes this time, and she returned to her work, dropping a handful of seeds into her mortar. She took up the pestel and pointed it at Damien before beginning to grind her ingredients to a fine powder. “You know what I’m gonna say.”
She waited for a few beats, and when Damien didn’t respond, she looked back at him. He was staring, slack-jawed, at the muscles of her arms as she ground her ingredients down. She huffed a quiet laugh.
“Sir Knight.”
Damien snapped to awareness. “Ah, yes?”
“Talk to him.”
Damien sighed, sounding dejected, and looked down at the floor. Rilla reached over to pull his chin up, forcing eye contact.
“He loves you. It’s clear to me, watching the two of you fight, that he wants you. Whatever is between you, you can talk it through.”
“My Rilla, you have such faith in us. From what well do you draw it from?”
“Damien, you know me better than that. I don’t take anything on faith. I’m a scientist. I rely on observation and data. And all the data points to the same conclusion; you love each other enough to work this out.”
“Arum!” Rilla traipsed over to him and launched herself into a hug, trusting her four-armed lord to catch her.
And catch her, he did. Arum wound all four arms around Rilla and squeezed tightly, lifting her feet off the ground. Rilla felt the gentle flicker of his tongue scenting her hair, and then she felt tension bleed out of him at the familiar warmth and smell of her.
“I missed you.” She said with her face pressed into his neck.
“And I, you, my Amaryllis.”
Rilla gave him one more firm squeeze, planted a solid kiss to the side of his face, and then leaned her head back. “Keep, get Damien in here!”
From behind her, she could hear the sweet song of the keep weaving a portal, and then she heard Damien’s voice coming through.
“Thank you, Keep, I- oh, Lord Arum!” Damien charged across the room and threw himself into the hug, pressing kisses to Arum’s neck and face.
“Hello, honeysuckle.” Arum’s voice was full of mirth, and he wound his left arms around Damien while using his right arms to keep Rilla close.
“Every moment of your absence has left my heart aching, my love. Your presence, the only balm.”
Arum chittered in fond annoyance. “I have missed you and your flowery prose, honeysuckle, but I am quite hungry. Have you two eaten?”
“We ate dinner already, but we could join you for some fruit.” Rilla offered, and Arum nodded along.
“Keep! A portal to the kitchen.”
The keep sighed happily and let them into the kitchen. They bustled around each other comfortably, grabbing bowls and bringing various fruit to the table.
Once they sat down, Damien gave Arum only the space for a few bites before asking, “How was your journey?”
Arum growled. “Tedious. I have become to used to teleporting around the swamp, when I leave its reach and I must travel on foot, I tire of it so quickly. And the Southern Woods are not a particularly interesting biome. Very little species diversity for me to observe and entertain myself with.”
“But you got the hellewort you needed?” Rilla leaned forward. Arum had explained the use of this particular specimen and the experiments he was hoping to accomplish with them, and Rilla was very excited to observe.
“Of course. The transaction went without a hitch, as I expected.”
“If you knew it was to be such a dull trek, why did you not bring one of us along? I offered to go with you.” Damien asked, trying and failing to mask a lingering bit of hurt.
Arum looked up from his plate of fruit. “The creature that supplies me my hellewort is a chimera. Highly territorial, especially this time of year when she begins nesting, and known for hunting humans. She allows me into her territory because we have a business relationship. But if I led a human into her den, I imagine that would have ended poorly.”
Rilla leaned across the table, excited to affirm for Damien that Arum wasn’t just avoiding him outright. “So, you thought if you brought Damien along, you’d be putting him in danger?”
Arum huffed a dry laugh. “No, you’d not have been in any danger.”
“My lily, you just said-”
“She would have tried to lay a finger on you, and I would have killed her.” Arum said evenly, staring into Damien’s eyes. Damien gulped.
After a moment of breathless eye contact, Arum returned to his fruit. “Which would have been very inconvenient for me, as she’s the only reliable source of some very rare herbs that simply refuse to be cultivated in the swamp.”
Damien swayed slightly towards Arum in his chair. “You… you would kill to protect me?”
“Of course!” Arum sounded scandalized. “Do you doubt it?”
“No, my lily, I have seen your ferocity and I can only imagine it’s force when you turn it against a true foe. But… A chimera is a truly fearsome creature. Few knights have ever survived an encounter with one, let alone emerged victorious from combat.”
Arum’s frill fluttered in a way that communicated the same emotion as a human rolling their eyes. “As you’ve seen from our many duels, my combat skills far surpass that of even the best citadel knights.” He reached one hand to draw a claw down Damien’s cheek. “Or have you forgotten so quickly in my absence, the way I can overpower you in minutes?”
Damien shivered. “Perhaps I need reminding.” He held Arum’s eyes for a moment, and minutely tipped his head to one side. Baring his neck.
Arum’s eyes followed the movement, followed the curve of his neck, before he consciously tore his gaze away. His eyes landed on Rilla’s for just a moment before dropping back to his plate of fruit cores and rinds.
Rilla still sometimes had trouble reading Arum’s expressions, but she could have swore in that moment of eye contact, she detected… shame?
“Not tonight, I think. I have missed my dear flowers and I would like nothing more than to curl up, us three, together.”
Damien leaned back, eyes downcast. He could tell he’d been rebuffed. “Ah, yes, of course you would not want a fight the moment you get home from a long journey.” He gathered himself and offered Arum a smile. “Let’s have a restful evening.”
Arum mimicked Damien’s smile perfectly, which is to say: they both looked semi-apologetic and a touch disappointed.
Rilla sighed. I have to do everything around here.
“Okay, we’re talking about this. Keep, a portal near the cabin? Thank you.”
The Keep opened a portal to the side of the swamp nearest the cabin they spent their nights in. They had to walk a short distance between the edge of the keep’s influence and their cabin, but it was worth it for the privacy.
She led the way, not looking behind her to check that the boys were following her.
“Why do I feel like we’re in trouble?” Arum groused to Damien.
Damien did not reply, instead calling weakly, “My Rilla, perhaps we needn’t discuss this tonight.”
Rilla led them into the cabin, gesturing for them both to sit on the bed while Rilla closed the door behind.
She turned to her boys. “Damien, take it away.”
Damien blushed furiously and spluttered at her. After a few long seconds of nothing cohesive, Arum put a gentle hand on Damien’s shoulder.
“Breathe, honeysuckle.”
“Damien. Are you going to broach the subject, or do you need me to?”
Damien nodded miserably. “I cannot bring myself...”
“Okay. Arum, you’ve been reluctant to get physical with Damien. It’s sending him into a tizzy. What’s going on?”
Arum looked shocked, his gaze flitting between Rilla and Damien. “What do you mean? I am extremely physical with Damien.” As if to prove his point, he snaked an arm around Damien and gently pulled him closer.
“Oh, my lily, it is nothing! A trifle, I thrill in each moment I spend in your careful arms.”
Rilla rolled her eyes. “It’s not nothing, Damien.” She looked directly at Arum. “He wants you to be rougher with him.”
His violet eyes flashed hungrily for a moment, and then he visibly tamped it down. “Honeysuckle… I am very strong. My teeth and claws are very sharp. I fear if I am anything other than deliberately careful with you, I could harm you.”
Damien lifted his head and met Arum’s eyes. “I am more resilient than you think.”
Arum grimaced. “You should not need to be resilient to withstand my love.” He stood, agitated, and started pacing the floor.
“You say it as if it were some trial for me to endure. As in our duels, it would be my pleasure to feel the full brunt of your strength. My love, I trust you.”
Arum chuckled mirthlessly. “You trust me, how nice. Well, I do not.”
Damien’s eyes watered. “You… you do not trust me?”
“I do not trust me.”
Damien opened his mouth to speak, when Arum continued.
“I am terrified of hurting you.” He stilled in his pacing, facing Damien but not meeting his gaze.
“My lily-”
“Arum, we both know you would never-”
“I am terrified-” Arum enunciated clearly, with his eyes on the floor. “- of how much I want to.”
Both Rilla and Damien were shocked into silence.
Arum’s eyes flickered to Damien’s, and his gaze was heavy with guilt. “Damien… honeysuckle, I love you. More than I could ever say. I would never truly want any harm to come to you. But when we duel, I… feel this instinct. Some part of me wants to… to…” Arum trailed off, sounding frustrated with himself. “I fear if I say more, you will finally come to your senses and leave me to my solitude.”
Damien took an unsteady step forward, raising his hand to cup Arum’s jaw. “My lily, my love, speak freely. I only wish to know what is in your heart. I do not fear you.”
Arum took a sharp step back, his eyes suddenly blazing. “Oh, but you do. When I best you in battle, you exhibit this delicious fear response. Y ou squirm like a mouse in the talons of a hawk, and it touches something deep inside me, something old . I want to squeeze you until you stop breathing. I want to see the bruises bloom, I want to draw blood.”
Damien’s mouth fell open, and Rilla watched a pretty flush climb up his neck. He took another, even less steady step towards Arum, who flinched back as if burned.
“There it is, again. I can hear your heart racing, honeysuckle, you cannot pretend that this does not affect you.” He spat.
“Oh, my love, I make no claim that I am unaffected.” Damien chuckled, embarrassed. “Just, not quite in the way you assume.”
Arum stilled his nervous fidgeting and blinked up at Damien.
Damien took another step closer to Arum. The lord of the swamp did not retreat again.
“My conscious mind, my self, does not fear you. I know, in my heart and my soul, that you would never see any real harm come to me. But my body, well. It’s as you’ve said, it is instinctive. I am only a fragile human, and to be faced with a creature so strong and powerful as you are, well. I become suddenly, acutely aware that I am at your mercy. My body knows that it should be afraid.”
Arum started to turn away in frustration, but Damien caught him, cupping his jaw once again.
“That feeling, my love, that primal fear… It is intoxicating. I crave it.”
Arum huffed in disbelief, but he did not recoil from Damien’s touch. Violet eyes searched Damien's face.
“Oh, my lily, I thought you could tell how dearly I wanted to feel the full force of you, to have you break against me like a wave against a rocky promontory.”
“Honeysuckle, you know I love your poetry, but I need you to tell me exactly what you mean by that.”
Damien sputtered for a moment.
Rilla sighed. “Arum, Damien has been tying himself in knots because he thought you knew how badly he wanted this and he thought you were… repulsed.”
“Repulsed? Tktktktktk.” Arum trilled in disbelief.
“I worried, my love, that you would think I see you as, well…”
“Ah.” Arum nodded his understanding. “A monster, as a knight of the citadel would see me. An unthinking beast, a danger to be neutralized.”
Damien winced.
“And how does it feel to know that you were right? The violence you expected to find in my heart is there, burning brightly.” He turned sharply, putting a few paces of distance between them.
“My lily, no-”
“I want. To hurt you. The one I love.” Arum spat the words with disgust. “What could be more monstrous? If anyone should be the subject of revulsion, it should be me.”
“Arum.” Rilla crossed to him and took his upper set of hands in her own. She ducked her chin, trying to meet his lowered gaze.
“You love Damien.” She did not phrase it as a question, but Arum nodded anyway.
“You want him to be happy and whole and well, yes?”
“Of course, Amaryllis.” He spat, defensive.
“You would never, ever, do anything to permanently damage him or threaten his life.” Again, a statement and not a question.
Arum physically flinched, but Rilla’s grip on him was strong and steady. “Never, I’d sooner die, myself.”
“Oh, love.” Damien swooned from behind them.
“Then there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing for us to be repulsed by, or afraid of.”
“Amaryllis, I want-”
“To hurt him, yes, I heard you. Did you not hear the part where he wants you to hurt him, too? You both want to have rough, violent, post-duel sex. I’m failing to see the problem, here.”
Arum balked for a moment, and Damien quietly glued himself to Arum’s side, insinuating himself under one of his arms.
“Honeysuckle… are you sure?” Arum’s focus pivoted to Damien, and Rilla took the opportunity to step back.
“How can I show you, my love, that I am dizzy with want for your violence?”
“It is not the play-fighting we sometimes practice. You would bruise and bleed.”
Damien’s eyes fluttered. “My knees go weak at the very thought.”
“You will need to rest and heal, afterwards.”
“I happen to know an excellent doctor.”
“You-”
“My lily. You will not dissuade me from this course. I wanted this before I even understood how to love you.”
Arum blinked down at him like he was a strange new creature Arum had never encountered before. He looked, briefly, to Rilla.
“Is this… something… you-?”
“Oh! No, no thank you. I think if either of you made me bleed during sex I’d be pretty cross about it.” Rilla tilted her head at Arum, scientific curiosity grabbing her. “Do you feel inclined to hurt me?”
Arum shook his head in the negative. “You aren’t afraid of me, nor have you ever been, as far as I could tell. Whatever instinct is driving this, it seems to rely on a suitable prey item.”
Damien breathed out a desperate little noise at being referred to as such.
“Oh, he liked that. Well, if it’s all the same to you boys, I’d definitely like to sit in. I trust you completely, Arum, but I’d like to be nearby with my kit, just in case you need me.”
“That would set me at ease, thank you, Amaryllis.” Arum nuzzled into the side of Damien’s head.
“What would you say now, my lily, if I were to challenge you to a duel?” Damien murmured.
Arum chittered excitedly. “I would say that Amaryllis should get her medical kit, because I am through going easy on you, little knight.”
Their duel began as it always did. They spun in a frenzied whirl of blades and limbs. It seemed that the journey had left Arum keyed up, rather than exhausted, and he fought furiously. Damien’s days of built up anxiety poured off him as he met Arum blow for blow. He was smiling brightly.
“This is the full might of the Lord of the Swamp of Titan’s Bloom? Hah!”
Clang! Swish!
“Save your breath, little knight, for each one is numbered. I’ll have your heart in my teeth by the end of the night.”
Damien gaped for a second too long and fumbled his next parry, and Arum’s next blow took Damien off his feet.
Arum pounced, covering Damien completely with his body. One hand reached up to his hair, yanking it back and exposing Damien’s neck, while his other limbs fended off defensive attacks from Damien’s flailing arms and legs. Arum’s grip on Damien’s wrists and hips was ironclad, and Damien was certainly going to have bruises to show for his struggling.
Moving slowly, Arum set his teeth against Damien’s neck, and Damien tensed up completely. His every nerve thrummed like a live wire, and all he could do was pant against Arum’s shoulder.
The pinpricks of pressure against his neck teased him with the thought of breaking flesh, but didn’t quite.
This is it, this is it. He has me, he’s going to eat me, he’s going to kill me. The thought bubbled up from somewhere deep in Damien’s brain, and he couldn’t help the way his hips bucked in response.
And then, the pressure was gone. Arum was recoiling, but not retreating. His every muscle was tightly wound, like a bowstring about to snap. All contained power and potential energy.
His violet eyes bore down on Damien, who could do nothing but hold that enchanting gaze. He felt pinned to the ground like a butterfly to a board, Arum’s gaze a pin through his chest.
They shared one tense, heaving breath.
Another.
Arum said, calmly, “Run.”
And Damien jolted into movement. He scrabbled back gracelessly on his elbows until he could twist himself to his feet, taking off into the woods still off-balance.
He heard Arum let out a satisfied snarl, and then the sounds of pursuit. Snapping twigs, swishing underbrush. Arum was never more than a few yards behind him.
Damien ran like his life depended on it. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths came fast and short.
Arum was gaining on him.
Something deep in his brain reminded him that if he was caught, the monster that pursued him would show him no mercy. He would be destroyed, he would be devoured. The fear and adrenaline pounding through his veins made him want to whoop with excitement, but he didn’t have the breath to spare.
With no warning, scaled hands plucked him off his feet and launched him into a nearby tree. Damien felt the shock of the impact settle in his lungs, and try as he may, he could not pull in another breath. He collapsed to the ground, chest pulling for air that would not come.
Arum did not give him a moment to recover. He was everywhere, frenzied, bearing down on him. His eyes were wild, his teeth were bared ferociously, and oh, Damien would burst into verse if his startled lungs would only let him draw breath.
He wasted a split-second admiring the view, and in that time, Arum gathered him up to his feet and pinned him against the tree, lording over him. Arum held both of his wrists in one hand, while two hands pinned Damien’s hips to the tree, and his final arm braced itself against Damien’s sternum.
His vision started to dapple with blackness. It would be over so soon, too soon.
Damien’s lungs restarted and he finally managed to gasp for breath. He used the last of his strength to wrench his wrists free from Arum’s grip, flailing wildly at Arum’s face.
Damien cried out as Arum sunk his teeth into the meat of Damien’s forearm. He grabbed Damien’s other flailing arm once again, and held it so tightly his claws left pinpricks of blood.
Damien, his hands once more pinned above his head, started kicking out with his legs. He felt the hands squeezing tightly at his hips begin to hoist him up against the trunk of the tree, removing his leverage. The rough bark scratched and burned against Damien’s arms and lower back, and he was sure he would be covered in angry red marks for days.
Arum placed a hand at Damien’s throat, squeezing just tight enough to promise another pretty set of bruises.
He looked down at him hungrily, with blood-stained teeth, frill extended. A fearsome predator. Damien whined low in his throat, and went limp in Arum’s grasp.
Arum chuckled darkly. “You’re mine, little morsel.”