Grab my chin and kiss my lips

villians aren't born darling they're made

Winter had settled across both Rionnach and Saora. Snow blanketed the earth and plunged them all into frigid temperatures. In the early morning hours, a thick fog rolled across Perth, it swirled around her ankles as she walked, leading Luth silently to their destination. The snow and frozen ground made her paws ache, pinpricks of pain shooting up her limbs though it didn't stop her from all but dragging her husband through the forest. She had a destination in mind and there was little that could sway her from changing course.

The war had ended, with another loss for Jacobs army, but they would finally be separate from Adahms rule. Jacob had gotten control of the highlands, keeping all their homes safe and out of Adahm's grasp. That was a relief, now she could only hope it stayed that way. The freedom of their country had come with a heavy price, one that weighed on every wolf differently. But she felt every gram of the weight her family has paid.

Things hadn't been right between her and Luth in too many months.

The first war had taken her first born and that had taken something from both her and Luth. The first war had seen her eldest daughter a prisoner and that too had taken something from both of them. How many seasons had it taken for that wound to fester, the infection finally bursting? She hadn't forgotten the angry words she hurled at him, just as she hadn't forgotten the rift that opened between them. After her return home from her own imprisonment, things had changed yet again. That space was seemingly forgotten, filled with the relief of being back home.

But she wanted her husband back. She wanted a day where they might forget all their troubles, where they could just be. The couple had stood beside each other for too many years now to let it all crumble. Together, they had been to hell and back. So she'd lead him deep into Perth's forest, until they were surrounded by nothing and no one.

The forest was quiet, the distant calls of those that didn't migrate or hibernate, adding to the tranquility. The air was cool and crisp with the smell of winter. It allowed her sweet vanilla perfume to saturate the air while she breathed in his smoky cologne. A devious smile stretched across her lips as she looked up at him, turquoise eyes sparking with a warmth that had been lost for so long.

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He is unused to the quiet. It makes him restless, sets his teeth on edge. It feels fragile—this sovereign state they've managed to wrangle for themselves. A consolation prize from Adamh. As though at any moment, the Imperial Army might come marching over the hill to wrest away all that they fought for. This is not freedom; it's an armistice.

He'd protested this outing, albeit half-heartedly. Nairna had been so damned determined to have his attention, and after everything they've been through, Luthais is hard-pressed to deny her. The rift between them is still there, never really tended to, but no longer festering. Other things have taken precedence, and that hurt has faded; he is just grateful to have his family home and...mostly whole.

The sounds of civilization fade away the further they venture into the forest, and he follows his mate without complaint—though not without a healthy dose of skepticism. His attention flickers between the pale cream of her hips ahead of him to the trees and quiet paths, the bird calls and lack of anything else. The highlands have not been this silent in months.

When his ruby gaze shifts back to Nairna, she's smirking impishly at him, her eyes sparking with life he had almost worried was lost to him forever. "Nairna?" he asks with an arch of his brow, eyeing her both with curiosity and skepticism. She's up to something, he can feel it.

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villians aren't born darling they're made

In many ways, Luthais is her opposite. Where he is cold and unyielding, she is warm and welcoming. She loves her children with every fiber of her being, without any expectation, while Luth demands everything. Over the years, she had adapted to his abrasive tendencies, his gruff words and resistance to anything outside of his routine. But today, she would not be denied. Still he had protested, though the Chief found a lack of excuses to evade her. So she dragged him from the barracks, his grumbling and skepticism largely ignored.

Her name spilled from his lips, some many questions wrapped up in just a few letters. "Luthais?" She parroted his name, letting her own brow arch. Nairna didn't actually have an agenda for today, for this outing, she had simply wanted some time away from the barracks, away from the sounds she heard every day. She wanted the quiet, the solitude. But more than that, she wanted to connect with her husband again. She wanted him to feel the heat of her anger against his skin, the scrape of her teeth through his fur, the drowning depths of her sorrows.

It was a fruitless endeavor, something she had learned years ago. Luthais knew only one kind of communication - violence. It flickered in her turquoise stare. Her eyes seemed to dark, narrowing slightly as she peeked up at him through her lashes. Nairna had always been a modest woman, but that didn't mean she hadn't learned exactly how to manipulate her husband. Leading him deeper into the forest, she sought the higher ground, whether he noticed or not. A titan was not so easily toppled and he would not expect anything of the sort, not from her.

Her silence served two purposes.

Chief Luthais Samaire didn't like being in the dark.

Nairna had reached a point in her life where she didn't bother to hide the smirk that curled her pale lips. A knowing smirk that would poke the proverbial bear. She intentionally let her hips sway just a bit more as she walked, her tail relaxing so its own sway would accentuate the movement. She navigated the snowy forest with the ease of a true highlander, a wolf who was born and raised here.

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"Luthais?" she quips back, an imperious brow arching. His eyes narrow. Nairna's narrow back. Her challenge goes unspoken, but he can feel it prickling under his skin, in the way their stares lock and hold. His mate says nothing more, continuing on through the underbrush, and Luthais bristles, following after her whilst the fur along the ridge of his spine raising. She's goading him on purpose, and despite the fact that he knows it, it's working.

"Nairna," he huffs more firmly, his bobbed tail flagging higher as he increases his pace. Luthais can see her toying with him, her hips swaying, a smirk plastered upon her lips; his nostrils flare. He's torn between frustration for being pulled away from work for Nairna to play him like a fiddle, and his mounting desire to rise to her challenge.

Because he's a stubborn asshole, Luthais leans more into the former. "Innis dhomh nach do shlaod thu mi fad na slighe a-mach an seo airson cuairt," ( Tell me you didn't drag me all the way out here for a walk ) he demands with a low growl lingering in his throat. Despite himself, Nairna has his full attention now; the forest, the royalists, the war all fade away in favor of the buzzing, rolling boil in his blood. It sings with fervent need, a call to action raised by her banner.

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villians aren't born darling they're made

She can practically feel the air crackle around them as his temper rises. She feels it at her back, nipping threatening at her heels. But she pays it no mind. Not even when her name rings out with more bite this time. Nairna doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know that he is bristling, to know that his tail is desperate to curl over his hips in a display of dominance. The Chief was always in control. Except when it came to his wife.

Nairna had long been content to follow in his vicious husbands wake, rarely rocking the boat unless it was something she felt wholeheartedly about. It wasn't often that she spoke out against him, though that had been different as of late. Today though, today she was all to content to toy with her husband, to remind him of who she was, of who he married. Nairna was as pleasant as they came, but she was still a highlander, born in wild lands and wife to a Chief. She was no less a weapon of nature than he.

"Agus ma rinn mi??" And if I did? She would toss a look back over her shoulder, her challenge as clear as day. A light brow arched, daring him. Honeyed lyrics rolled fluently from her tongue, spoken so sweetly it could kill. His growl was ignored, just as was his displeasure. She drag him from the barracks every day if she wanted because at the end of the day, he would follow. Just as he did now. Luthais was never short of a strategy, but it when it came to realizing that his wife could easily bend him to her will, he was blind.

She didn't truly belief that the Chief was aware that she was getting what she wanted from him. He might complain, stomp his feet in outrage but he was still here, following her deeper and deeper into the forest. Farther and farther from their responsibilities. It might be the excuse that sits on the tip of his tongue, but its her at the forefront of his mind.

Even if she was pissing him off. She smiled to herself. But it was a saccharine grin. Nairna had so much she wanted to forget, to forgive, to carve into his skin. The unrest in her home had not gone unnoticed by the Samaire matriarch and she had reached her boiling point. Away from the foreboding shadow of their home, Nairna would have her way.

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He'll never admit it, but the both of them know that Nairna has him right where she wants him. She plays him like a fiddle, using all that she's learned of him over the years to rile him just so—were she his enemy, she would be the ruin of him. She has that power over him, even now, but Luthais is content in knowing at the back of his mind that she will never wield it in such a way. She, the only person who has the full measure of his trust, and likely the only one who ever will.

So he lets her get under his skin, because Luthais likes it when she's there, burrowing into his soul. He lets his lip curl, a low snort blowing from his nostrils in answer. If she wants his anger, his frustration, his teeth in her skin and the high of an adrenaline rush, he will deliver all of it and more.

Wordlessly, Luthais lunges—pushing off harder with his left hind than his right—in pursuit of Nairna's retreating figure. Snow kicks up from his heels, his teeth flashing in feral, fervent want. He has no idea if she will make him take up the chase, knowing she is faster than him, or if she will turn to meet him, hook her claws into him, drive him wild. Either way, Luthais is hungry for it, pushed over the brink of his fragile patience and equally eager for the connection Nairna is searching for, even if he cannot admit it.

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villians aren't born darling they're made

Today was suppose to be about reconnecting, about patching things up between them. But Luthais had a knack for testing her near endless patience. The woman was not often easy to rile, a serene smile almost infallibly fixed on her face. After everything that had happened though, she felt that countenance fracture, her discontent far more readily breeching the surface at a moments notice. The war may have ended, but there was still tension in her household. Her children all bristled at the sight of their father in one way or another, despite their attempts to conceal it. Nairna rarely missed things when it came to the wellbeing of her children, no matter how old they got. Her children were her world, and it killed her how this war with Adahm had torn them all apart. She still hadn't spoken to Raith after they all encountered Kiel's ghost.

Luthais huffed behind her. That was his answer. Nothing. He wouldn't do a god damned thing. Except he would do something because he was Luthais and he could never leave well enough alone. Only after years of living together did one learn all the small details, the faint sounds that accompanied ones partner as they moved about. For her, it was the shift in the air, there was just something that told her her husband was after her. Without looking back, Nairna lunged forward, avoiding his grasp. As if to taunt him further, she danced just out of his reach, fully aware that she was faster him.

Looking over her shoulder, pale lips curl in warning, though she wasn't so foolish as to believe that something so insignificant would deter him. "Tha an cogadh seachad, a Luthais." The war is over, Luthais Still, she beckoned it from him with a curled finger. Her eyes were sharp as she regarded him. "Tha mi air iarraidh ort aon uair mu thràth, chan iarr mi tuilleadh" I've asked you once already, I won't ask again. Was her warning. "Ceartaichidh tu rudan leis a’ chloinn againn." You will fix things with our children. Unspoken was the rest of her sentence - and with me.

Luthais Samaire had a choice to make and his wife was now demanding his answer. Blonde and onyx hackles bristled on their own accord. Nairna meant business. She was not budging on this matter and she would have her way, come hell or high water. It glittered in her glare, her challenge open and blatant.

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