Whumptober day 11, prompt: defiance.


He touched her shoulder as if he owned her, and Alina snapped her teeth at the Darkling, as if she was a rabid dog, and it just made him smile.

"Maybe your next Amplifier should be a muzzle." He said, lightly, as if discussing dinner and not servitude. "It would look pretty with your hair."

As if to make a point, he passed a hand through her hair, newly white, shining in the light. Alina snapped her head at it, getting out of the Darkling's range.

In her wrist there was a single shackle, made from a snake's skin, a leash to the Darkling. In her neck, a collar of bone. Now, a muzzle, to complete her transformation from human being into a feral, barely tamed, pet.

"Have you ever seen the ribs of a bird, Alina?" He mused, obviously not bothered by the distance she was putting between the two: he knew very well there was nowhere else she could run. "I'm sure that Fabrikator boy could make something beautiful out of the firebird's ribcage."

"You'd lose me." She said, trying to appeal to any sense of empathy the Darkling could have, any feelings towards her he could have - he had those for her once, his hands on her hips, his lips on hers.

His eyes - grey and impenetrable - did not waver.

"I'd still have your powers at my disposal." He said, and all Alina could do was shudder.