𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛.

Petrichor

Hellfire

Even when he swats her knife away, as easily as taking scissors from a child. Even when he smacks her forehead against the countertop, the only weakness she allows an involuntary hiss of pain. Even with a knife pressed to her throat, she resolves herself to continue her rebellion. Slowly, careful of the blade against her skin, she turns her head so that her cheek is pressed into the cold tile, and she can fix him with the same, impetuous look from the corner of her eye. "You mean we're not already having fun?"

She's acutely aware of the proximity of his face, close enough that his breath stirs the fine hairs framing her temple and brow. His body is like a large weighted blanket of muscle and bone, pressing her further and further into the countertop. A wolf playing with his food, but she was no innocent lamb ripe for the slaughter. Never one to back down from a challenge, she squirms against the confines of her cage knowing it would be nearly impossible to escape.

Despite the way her heart pounded in her ears, she couldn't deny the part of her that buzzed with excitement. There was small pleasure in the fact that the man responsible for her entrapment could kill her, but an even greater thrill in knowing that he wouldn't. If he wanted her dead, he could have killed her long ago. Pounced on her the moment she walked through the door, silencing her before she could have even screamed, and yet he held back. No, she would not die tonight, the knowledge of which brings a smug smile to her lips.

in one fell swoop, the hunting knife slams against the wood of her kitchen table, dug away into its new home. but where the blade once stood, a hand soon returns to her jaw, where he roughly turns her around to face him. better to face the little lion now. see what more those claws could do now. his weight is the key in keeping the deputy pinned beneath him, even now as she's backed against the countertop. " there's ways of punishing you that don't require me killing you, " his suggestion is left open to interpretation. regardless, there's a look of disappointment in his eyes. his prodigy, his key to ending the whitetails' reign, was becoming quite the liability. joseph demanded retribution. all of their people in holland valley wanted to see her dead. how could he not make her pay for killing his little brother?

@wolfbeacons sent: ❝ do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in right now? ❞

HER HOME IS COMPLETELY DARK when she returns, still riding the high of the day's victory and the pleasant buzz a couple of celebratory drinks at the Spread Eagle had left. Today marked a huge triumph for the resistance. John Seed was dead, and with his death, there remained a flicker of hope that they may just succeed in washing away the stain left by the cult. Though there was still so much work to be done, especially in the Henbane and the Whitetail Mountains, the Peggies' influence in Holland Valley had all but crumbled. Now it was just a matter of time before the other regions followed suit and were liberated from their respective Heralds. The fight was far from over, but tonight was not the time to plan for the future, tonight was a time to revel in the glow of her achievements, leave the hard work for tomorrow.

Perhaps it was the influence of the alcohol that had distracted her, or her own smug pride that kept her from taking complete stock of her surroundings before getting too comfortable for she did not notice the dark shadow lurking in her kitchen. Not when she first entered her home, nor when she turned her attention to the fridge while humming a cheery tune to herself as she perused its contents. It was not until a soft, but familiar voice cuts through the darkness that she became acutely aware she was not alone. 'do you have any idea how much trouble you're in right now?'

At first her mind refuses to believe the sound, the voice which haunts her nightmares is right here with her in her home, and not being blasted over some radio, or over the crackly static of an intercom at a Peggy outpost. More pressingly, she refuses to acknowledge the truth of the matter. She'd let her guard down, she'd become too comfortable, and had missed all the signals that someone had forced themselves into her home. Except this wasn't just a random thief in the night, this was him.

He was perhaps the most dangerous brother of the Seed family. His military background, army of Chosen, and understanding of the human psyche made him an intimidating target, and a deeply fascinating character, moreso than the rest of his family. He had put her through his trials once already, had played his sick games with her mind, and now she had walked right into his trap. Goosebumps crop along her arms, the hairs raising on the back of her neck as she stands frozen in place. A small, prideful, part of her is glad that he cannot see her shocked expression, she would not let him see her fear. Another, more logical, part of her realizes that her back is turned to him, making her all too easy prey, weak even. And you know what happens to the weak.

when joseph pieced the family back together, there was hope. at least in the eyes of the father. jacob had a hard time subscribing to the idea of the voice, or this destiny they were meant to carve out. he couldn't relate to his brothers, or the countless faiths that lined up to slaughter. war prepares you for death, for the inevitable loss of your brethren. so, why did the news of john's death pull at something dead inside of him? his youngest brother was an idiot, controlled by his own weakness, but - his bloodshed was celebrated by those who did not deserve to breathe the same air.

and at the center of it all was the deputy. the golden girl. the beacon of hope the people of this county clung to in the midst of the reaping. she was weak. even now, as she wandered through her home, unaware of the danger that lurked in the darkness. he had sat at this table for an hour. a patient predator always gets its prey. and, like a lamb wandering from too far from the flock, samira finds herself in the jaws of a wolf.

the knife she holds doesn't pose any threat to him. he could kill her before the opportunity to use it would even present itself. it doesn't take much for jacob to rise to full height and close the distance between them. her defiance was unacceptable. her willingness to continue to fight with the resistance would be noted. his hand is almost as big as her face when he grabs her by the jaw. it's worth noting that the grip would likely leave its mark in the morning. she could stab him now. right through the heart. but he doubts she has the guts to try, not when he was commanding all of her attention.