Xayah's ear twitched in annoyance. Rakan was kneeling before her like he was bowing. His face was flat and morose, his ears wilted beside his head to either side. His broad, muscular chest was crisscrossed with purplish claw marks which luckily didn't seem to be deep, nor did they bleed. He looked thinner, like the rumors that demon's pretty literally sucked the life out of people were true. He grimaced in discomfort, careful about how he moved his legs as if his groin was still sore.
"Of course I forgive you," She sighed.
"You don't have to," He touched his forehead to the floor.
"I don't expect you to be immune to every spell that comes your way." Xayah rolled her eyes.
"I still think I should have been stronger," He looked up at her apologetically. "I'll buy some charm resist next time... or try to make sure I'm never close to her... or something!"
"Seriously, it's fine." Xayah scowled. "Like, obviously it bothers me, but it's not like it's your fault. I can be upset about it without needing you to apologize or being mad at you."
"And I can still feel bad and want to apologize," Rakan stood up and hugged Xayah to his chest, her ears twitched again.
"Well don't, dummy." She grumbled.
The actual feelings of it were complicated, no matter what she said. She'd heard enough about Evelynn to know that Rakan almost certainly couldn't have actually helped it. Could maybe have been better prepared, could have tried harder to avoid her, but that was all hindsight. Rumor was it she'd caused some real, actual relationship problems in the past. They'd survive this easy. There was already at least some openness in their relationship, and they both could be adults about this.
And yet.
The key to openness was communication. A constant effort to make sure feelings didn't get hurt. Even if it had been, largely, out of Rakan's control, there would always be that little toxic part of her. The one that said he should have tried harder to resist, should have been more careful, shouldn't have been out working without her around. All things that were unrealistic to demand, but that came from somewhere deeper and more emotional.
She hugged him back after a moment, feeling the strange heat radiate from the ugly indigo scars. It wasn't enough that the bitch had done what she'd done, did she have to mark him? Even a lipstick mark would have been annoying, but these would be slow to heal. And all the while, they'd be a constant, nagging source of food to the petulant little voice.
"Shit happens," Xayah sighed, "Right?"
***
In the distance, Xayah could hear the sound of a tower being attacked. Based on where she was, it was probably one of hers. Somewhere, her allies were probably dying, losing fights that they needed her to win for them and weren't smart enough to avoid without her. It was like a car crash in slow motion, she needed to be in a hundred places at once. But she wasn't in any of them, she was in the middle of the jungle, and her legs weren't working.
Evelynn was laying between her legs, black and white eyes like an angler fish's light, eyebrows narrowed playfully as her jaw worked slowly. Little kissing motions like she was suckling.
The pale skin of Xayah's stomach and thighs was criss-crossed with purple streaks of light, things that were - in effect - scars but which in actuality were like hickeys. Sensitive little burning spots whose heat seemed to radiate into her core. Caffeine patches which kept her blood firing. Xayah's legs were mush, she was so exhausted her brain itself had gone numb, only able to think about the steady nagging need to be elsewhere and doing other things, that and what Eve was doing to her.
Her impossibly long, impossibly dexterous tongue was wrapped around Xayah's clit, dragging back and forth as the tip circled rings around her back door. Below it Evelynn's fingers ground wetly into Xayah's soaked pussy, pushing up toward her stomach with an inhuman sense of where she was sensitive. It had been going on so long and was so precise that Xayah's guts felt bruised. She was so beyond sensitive, clit throbbing and lips raw. Aching to be touched and to stop being touched in equal measure. She couldn't see where Eve's other hand was, but it felt like it was in a hundred places at once. It seemed like her breasts were being massaged, her nipples pinched, her asshole stroked and prodded, her throat gently squeezed, and in a hundred other places caressed or gently struck. An infinite number of hands which could have been real or imagined but may have been some combination of the two. She was trapped on some distant, impossible island of sense and fatigue.
"Please..." She could hear herself, cum-drunk and slurring her words. God, she was probably drooling. "I can't cum any more!"
Eve lifted her lips from Xayah's cunt and tilted her head to the side slightly. Her tongue remained wrapped around her prey's clit, grinding as it pumped like a rope around a pulley.
