Lethe had never been so comfortable with a man, and it shocked her how dark he was, and yet he was so loving...
-Memory Fades in-
Wysteria brushed her violet hair from her amber eyes.
She was visiting her Goddaughter, a young gal named Maya.
And Maya had just achieved remission.
She lived with her grandmother, a matronly human.
Her parents had been killed several years before, when A semi ran a red light and crashed into their little sedan.
Wyst had run into a verily nasty man earlier, and seeing Maya would brighten her dour mood.
As she entered, the lack of life In the house left her shaking.
She made for Maya's room.
Grandma was laying with her face in the bed, and Maya drew no breath. On closer Inspection, neither did The old lady. Wysteria hissed as she felt the tingle of her earlier altercation partner's magic on them.
Her eyes narrowed.
She didn't have time to cry.
Only to avenge them.
She ran After him, mounting a lively black thoroughbred stallion.
He charged after the other rider.
Soon his dark legs brought them up behind the being, astride a black tobiano Warmblood mare.
In the resulting fight, his mask broke, revealing his face.
And her dumb ass looked right at him.
He mentioned the tidbit about decaying Alive for seeing his face after that.
He killed his mare after the battle, and vanished to procure a more suitable mount.
Lethe rode Nefisa down the road bareback. She twirled the end of the one leadrope she used, the clip attached to the center ring.
She plow and neck reined both sides, the old mare now having a less fiery temper in her old age.
Patting her neck, she spotted a man riding a demonic stallion.
Lethe was the personification of the River Of Forgetfulness.
She was a freaking titan.
And her friend bred SPECIAL equines just for the purpose of war and enjoyment.
The stallion didn't bother her.
The lifeless eyes of his rider did.
His face was gorgeous.
His hair was slightly shaggy, eyes blue.
Her own grey orbs widened In surprise.
Her long, pale pink hair rested on pale skin, freckled and innocent.
She had been a river for millennia, and before that was a time of constant strife. No time for breeding.
She saw the look of Well Fuck on his face, and curiosity got the better of her.
"Well, Damn, Studmuffin, you look right wicked on that boy."
She winked.
Innocence didn't mean she couldn't flirt.
-Present-
Lethe stared at Kematian.
She was busily absorbing the broad chest covered in scars. One in particular made her lip lift. The Sarcophagi matched the one that adorned her arm, bar a small heart above the K.
Her eyes lit a glorious Smokey grey, golden flecks glowing writhing within the near seascape.
She smiled a shy smile, her hands itching to transverse the mark lovingly.
They were to be wed soon.
A fact brought on by the fact that because of a curse, his face could not be viewed without death... unless one bonded to him.
Or marriage.
