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Detraeus’ cheeks burned, his pulse beating like an alkara trapped in his chest. ‘I reserve my hate for a select few,’ he thought, but the words never left his lips, his tail too busy flicking upwards to press into her touch and his body too ready to scramble back like a frightened bouken. It did no such thing, but only because of absolute determination not to. Instead it sat frozen, he with his palms to the earth, cards to the ground, and pulse in his throat, attention locked on strange girl he once thought he ought to have let die in the swamps of his homeland and feed poison serpents.

“…I mind it…less…than most,” he said. ‘You’ve not earned my hate.’

Detraeus shuddered at the touch, the whole of his body moving under her fingers, tense enough to hold his ground, but quivering, like a raindrop in the breeze. He grit his teeth, and whipped his tail around. All of his senses in a knot and body pushed to its limits, he snatched at her waist with it, dragging her in as his wings spread out and growling as he did. The wings cast a shadow over her as their bodies pressed close, her pulse against his as plain and simple as feeling the press of a beast atop him before he shot it, and he hesitated, heartbeat wild in his throat. Because Araceli was no beast. And this would never be as simple as any battle he ever fought. He swallowed, stance sinking.

“You should not…” ‘…move so close to me…’ he thought, but never spoke the latter half, his attention frozen on the curve of her lashes — and the jagged scar down her cheek, that he could have prevented, had he killed the beast sooner.

Detraeus made a strangled noise in his throat, body going stiff as a plank and mind temporarily blanking out as panic swamped him in a wave. Lips. Mouth. Lips. She was kissing him and—

Why had she thought this was a good—?

“Ara??” Lithian half tripped on his way back through the threshold, so startled by the sight at hand that his first instinct was to back back out again. His mouth, however, moved faster than his mind. “What are y—are you kissing—?”

Detraeus was not so lucky in terms of grace, and did trip over his own hands in the process of moving backwards, his heart like a battering ram in his chest and face burning hot as any sun in the gods’ universe.

For far too long, Detraeus’ limbs refused to obey his commands, unmoving as a statue and just as useless. Then, in a rush, he scrambled, moving back further to put distance between himself and Araceli as well as his legs could carry him. His tongue tripped over itself the whole while.

“We—th—didn—nnn, you don’t—don’t…go. I—ha…” He closed his mouth, and shut his eyes, lips still burning with the shadow of her touch, the memory still so immediate that he could half feel her there. Warm. And soft. Pressing against him. He cleared his throat at a stuttered pace which degenerated into a cough and dragged his tail away as he retreated further, shaking his head. “I’ll—I’m…” He stood, dipped his head in a staggered nod to the company, and made for the door.

Lithian, meanwhile, frowned, eyes following his every movement. “Wait. Where do you think you’re—?” But Detraeus shoved past him without a word, earning a deeper scowl and the start of another comment, but he was gone before the words left Lithian’s lips. Once alone again with Casseth and Ara, Lithian folding his arms, glowering at Detraeus’ retreating form. “What is wrong with him? He’s always so angry…” He glanced back to Araceli, frown softening to something far more concerned than irritated. “What did we walk in on? Did he hurt you?”

Lithian blinked, entirely startled by the backlash, and then frowned, opening his mouth. “But—Ara…” She was gone, though, before he got anywhere with his words, and he winced, shoulders sagging as he rubbed one and glanced to Casseth. “I didn’t mean to…it was just…” He sighed and shut his eyes, shaking his head and moving over to gather up the cards. “I know Detraeus is your friend. Perhaps I ought best have said nothing…” After tucking the cards into two neat stacks, he glanced back to Casseth. “Do…you and your father need any more help this afternoon…?”

Lithian nodded and, without the company of their previous companions, soon said his goodbyes to Casseth. Why Detraeus unnerved him so, he couldn’t say, but his concerns over the strange, short-tempered oblivionite lingered at the back of his mind for the entirety of his walk home, and long into the evening after that.