Hideaway Strath I can show you the devil

Permission to know of private-thread details given by Hela and Malia!
Tagging: @Kynareth Deagon
Time: Immediately after this thread

Something was up. 
It had been perhaps a month or so now, since Nyra eavesdropped on Simmik forbidding Kynareth from fucking others for a while. 
And yet a few times afterward, she had noticed he came back smelling almost faintly of another. 
This time, when she noticed Donovan heading for the Heights, the Empress followed. Though she stopped, once the terrain started getting much steeper. 

And for a while, she waited, hellfire gold eyes watching for his brindled form with body statue-still. She remained like this, an eerie seraphim sentinel. 

That is, until Kynareth came down again. 

From the second she saw him, the hellfire in her hues burned and the blitz-blaze inferno only continued to sear hot as seconds passed and he drew closer. Kyn could probably feel the unparalleled wrath radiating in sinister, strong waves, but Nyra wasn't quite sure if he saw her yet. Not that pure white fur and murderous glaring was hard to miss. 

As soon as her co-lead was close enough, Nyra abruptly planted herself in his path. So abrupt, perhaps, that they might have ended up directly nose to nose. Being of equal size to him, the Overseer easily locked eyes with him and willed with all her being that the rage in her eyes might physically burn him. 
Hackles rising, Nyra bit down on the thundersome growl rising in her chest and instead dripped one, acidic order. 

"Explain." 
She already knew he had fucked someone behind Simmik's back. That much was dangerously obvious. 
Yet the dark dragon within her coiled back up just enough to attempt to give him the room to spare himself an inevitable ass kicking to hell and back.

Tag for reference <3

After his fun with @Teya, he finally descends the heights. He would go swim a bit in the shallows of the river to get her overwhelming perfume off of him. Can’t walk around with a stranger females scent on him for too long. Causes suspicion and questions to arise. 

Though, today it seems he’s not quick enough and he sees Nyra just a little ways a head of him. He moves towards her, a smile gracing his features, until he sees the deadly scowl that litters her pretty face. He quirks a brow and shes stopping tight in front of him, nose to nose. He can see the twitch of her lips, threatening to pull back into a snarl and he stops quickly.

Explain. 

He wonders dumbly for a moment what she’s referring to. Has no idea. Until it hits him. His scent, his disappearance. Why would she be mad at him for fucking another wolf? Little does he know that she knows that he’s grounded. 

“Explain what?” He hums with clear confusion in his tone and expression. “The shewolf I was with?” He tried to confirm casually. “Why’re you pissed? He inquires then. Playing it off normally.

He seems genuinely confused, and it serves to further unhinge the draconic beast keeping itself coiled, yet so lethally poised, inside her.
If she weren't so livid she might've forgiven him for being unaware that she knows what's up. But that isn't the case today. The same second his last words end, hers sizzle like cool liquid on flaming metal. 
"I know what Simmik said." She seethes. If it were realistically possible to grow in size and morph into hell incarnate (looking at classic Maleficent here), gods, she would have as she kept talking. Somehow she felt as if she was growing taller than him as the raging dragon inside her breast unfurled further with each syllable. Sadly, in reality her Titanic stature would remain the same. 
"You claim to love your wife, yet when she fucking tells you not to go around banging everyone, YOU COMPLETELY DISREGARD HER BEHIND HER BACK. SHE TRUSTS YOU, YET YOU ABUSE THAT SO EASILY IT'S FUCKING DESPICABLE!" By the time she stops bellowing in his face, Nyra is already lunging for his cheek. Maybe alarmingly too close to his eye, but right now she isn't thinking past the vibrant, crimson wrath clouding her normal calculativeness. In the thrum of her anger, she wants to make him suffer and make him bleed.

I know what Simmik said.

If he didn’t have fur, he would’ve paled. His eyes go a bit wider and it’s then that he realizes exactly why she’s mad. Oh shit. She doesn’t stop there. She only crowds closer spewing words of such vibrant hate that he might as well feel them rattle his very soul. 

He slinks back, his ears fall against his skull, his expression cringes at her yelling. Most importantly, her words do hurt; because she’s right.

Then she lunges. He doesn’t have enough time, nor space, to get out of her way. Her teeth slash into his face. Her top canine slices south into his brow and her bottom ascends into his cheek; both narrowly missing his left eye. They’re deep though — two twin marks on the left side of his face with small scrapes in between. Blood instantly pours from the wound, dripping thickly into his eye and down his face, coating Nyra’s maw. 

He grunts out a his of pain that flows into a groan as he ducks his head to protect his face from her onslaught of attacks. Turning his head away from her he tries backing up a growl forming in his throat. 

“Nyra!” He spits back at her in exclamation, but also warning. He wouldn’t have much time to do anything before her next attack, he braces himself.

She connects with a loud snarl, tasting his blood once again after such a streak of bloodless sparring with him. 
His exclamation is almost mute in her ears, dulled by her rage as Nyra aims her fangs for another part of his face or throat, viciously intending to slam Kynareth to the ground. 
If she succeeded, she would stand over him much like he had the very first time they had spilled each other's blood, back in the canyon. Perhaps wrangle herself into calming down just enough that she wouldn't have a repeat of ragdolling Santiago. 
If he fought back enough to stay standing, her ruthless onslaught would prevail.

Though the Grandmaster braces for his equal’s attack, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Nyra’s cutting into his face once more. This time slashing the crown of his forehead and she doesn’t stop there, aiming for his throat as well. She pushes against him and he topples back, feeling her teeth nick his throat too. He goes limp, but still tense, as he exposes his belly to her. Chin still pulled down towards his chest to prevent her from gnawing at anything further, he shows complete submission — all except his pretty little throat. Yet, his paws are pulled close to his body, except one that rests uselessly on her chest in order to uselessly try and stop her advances. 

Assuming she doesn’t go any further, he would lie there and stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. Allowing himself only to submit because of the situation and Nyra herself. If she were a stranger he would’ve fought right back, but she’s not and his respect for her flows deep — the only thing preventing him from biting back.

He goes down, and with fully bared teeth, Nyra stands over him with tail raised high and rage in her eyes that seemed like it would never leave. 
She wants to be appeased by his show of submission, to recoil the draconic beast that unfurled so viciously only moments ago. 

Slowly, the Empress regains herself, shuts the dragon within away once more. Her breathing steadies, slow, deep. 
She then sheathes her fangs for the most part, for the promise that follows on her lips. 
"Tell Simmik what you did. Tonight. If you don't, then I will drag you to her myself and do it for you. I will be watching to make sure." Nyra growls, keeping her eyes locked with his own long enough for him to register that she wasn't bluffing in any fashion.
Once Nyra knew Kynareth got the point, she stepped off to allow him the room to rise again. 

As much as she hadn't much liked Simmik, the tension wouldn't do good for the future of the Saints and their growing empire. Pride occasionally had to be sacrificed for the best possible outcome.

He lies there, still as a statue, and thinks she’s going to come down on him again. Thankfully she doesn’t, but he still doesn’t dare to move a muscle. Looking up to her with wild eyes mixed with surprise and submission. Eyes flick to her raised hackles and tail, then finally the way she relaxes some on top of him. Not a lot, but enough for him to know she probably won’t go at him again.

Tell Simmik what you did.

His blood rushes through his veins and it’s horribly loud in his ears. God, if he tells Simmik she’s going to be pissed. Not only will she be pissed, she’s going to be hurt too. He doesn’t want to see her like that. I’m that case, maybe he shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

He sighs and the Grandmaster has obvious hurt and regret in his golden orbs. He nods. “Okay, fuck.” He curses softly. “I’ll fucking tell her.” He tries to ease to his overseer.

He yields to her demand.
Good.
She can see the surprise in his eyes, and she glances over the fresh wounds she had given him before Nyra finally moves, stepping off and a few paces to the side.

He can get up any time he wants, but Nyra wasn't going to let him wash off his lover's scent until after he had confessed and groveled at Simmik's feet. And the Empress intended to make a point of that by standing between him and the direction of the water.

He feels relieved when she steps off of him, but not for long. His gaze lingers on her just as much hers lingers on him. Only after a few seconds does he get up and roll to his feet, shaking any grass or mulch that gathered on his coat from the tussle. 

His eyes are on her again and he notices where she’s standing. “I can’t go yet. I’m following that wolf back to her pack.” He pauses. Oh, well that probably the last thing she wants to hear. “That sounds bad. I’m doing it for information purposes. She doesn’t know I’m following her and I’ve been trying to get her to tell me. She’s a bit secretive.” He hums easily. Not making excuses, for that is actually why he intends to follow her.

Should we wrap up here or with your next response? <3

Nyra's eyes narrow on Kynareth as he tells her of his plans to follow the woman he just fucked.
He seems to know she's not against coming at him again, and he clarifies. 

Nyra knows he loves his pack, and this seems to make her relax some. Thus, with a growl, she turns and starts walking away. She could be patient, it's done her much good in the past. Being patient certainly wouldn't fail her now.

She seems as content as she could get right now. He doesn’t question the way she huffs out a growl and turns away — doesn’t say one more word. He needs to let her cool down before he catches her teeth again. 

Speaking of; when she finally walks away from him he sighs, smacking his lips as the taste of blood blooms in his mouth. He knows her marks will scar, but he has little to do but at least wash them, and himself, off in the river. He doesn’t have time for the though. He looks back in the direction Teya had to have done and begins moving. Keeping his head down low and sound minimal.