I love being a traitorous bitch. The thought keeps Mis— Desdemona at bay as Kam's tail envelops me. How I've longed for her to do this, even though it's not been more than a few days since the last time she held me inside her. It's always good, and even better now that I'm betraying Desdemona.

I can tell Kam wants me in her, too, based on how fast her tail's devouring me. Her muscles tense and relax at a rapid pace, gulping me down. I was so tentative when we started, but now? Just being here I ease into every press, every pull.

I love being a traitorous bitch.

Panic that is not my own presses into my mind.

"She can never love you," Desdemona says. ''Not the way I can. I see who you are, Tiana. You will never need to apologize. Never need to grovel and beg."

The words ring hollow. Desdemona cannot see me. Not truly. Not past her own pain.

Only someone who's taken me into herself time and time again could know me. Kam sees me for who I am — for what I am — and she forgives me for it. Desdemona saw what I was and accepted me... but that acceptance was preconditioned on oblivion. On being subsumed.

It's more painful to be seen and forgiven for being a conniving, backstabbing slut. Humiliating in a way that makes my arousal surge even higher. Kam doesn't accept me. She'll never accept me. But she'll forgive these parts of me. She'll make them right. Again and again.

That's what Desdemona could never understand about Kam: what I want is to be dealt a humiliating defeat.

I want this. Hopeless. Captured. Pulled inside Kam and fucked until I have no thoughts. I hope there's security cameras catching all this. I hope Essa testifies against me.

I hope comment sections flood with people calling me a slut and a whore.

Bully me. I wanna cum.

When we go out, I want Kam's tail around my throat. I want her to assure people that I'm tame. That I've given up any claim to being demure, or chaste, or icy.

I want my body to burn with shame.

It sickens Desdemona to feel me feel it. I can feel her trying to suppress it. To make me not feel how good it feels to be devoured whole by the woman who loves me.

That disgust isn't pure, though. It's tinged with something I knew all too well.

Desdemona feels me recognize it, and she fights even harder to reassert her control. It would work if Kam hadn't torn so much Decay out of me.

Another gulp, and I feel the nothingness of the void.

Kamilliajora Neff, I am yours. I submit myself to you.

You make me better for it.

Consume me.

Desdemona's panic spikes. She can't control me. Not all of me, anyway. My traitorous body and mind won't let her. I feel her summon the First Resonator from the holding dimension I'd blinked it away to. It materializes in my hands.

I grip tight to it. I will myself to betray her completely.

She can have her sway over me, or she can have the First Resonator now. I feel Kam's tendrils dig into my nose, filling my lungs with clean air. More snake around my body. Any moment now, I'll be bound. She wants both her weapons back: me, and the First Resonator.

I love being a traitorous bitch.

I force Desdemona to choose. Something inside me strains, buckles, and then tears as my body blinks the First Resonator to her. It hurts. God, it hurts so bad.

I try to breathe a sigh of relief, but my breathing comes shallow. I can't... I can't catch my breath. Even with Kam, I can't...

The panic that grips me now is all my own. I can't breathe. Everything hurts. My body shudders violently, horrible pain wracking me. I taste blood in my mouth, feel it pouring from my lips, and my body doesn't feel as warm it did before. I try again to breath. I can't.

Colder now.

This isn't how I'd ever thought it would happen. I've imagined it before, dozens of different ways. Trained to outrun each one. You have to imagine it because the threat of it is always there. I never imagined this. Never prepared for it, even when I knew it could happen.

My heart slows.

My limbs don't feel like mine.

Desdemona tore out the Decay as she left. My body is dying; I feel it, even in the dark: something far darker lurking in the void — closing on the periphery with frightening speed.

'Magisorcerer Tiana joined the light', the headlines will read.

At least I'm here. At least I'm with her.

Kam will keep me safe until the end.

…

My heart slows.

…

And slows.

…

And…

…

…

…

Pressure. Against my chest. Compressions, to keep my blood circulating. It's helping, but it's not enough. I feel weak. Drained.

Losing blood.

No hospital.

My head throbs, then lolls to the side. More blood trickles from my lips.

It's okay if she let me go. I want to tell her that. I wish I could tell her that. She could say she tried.

A tendril grazes my arm. So warm against my skin. It lances a vein. She's not giving up. I love that about her.

Warmth. Her warmth. It floods my veins. I feel it spreading within me. It pulses with a rhythm I don't recognize, the movements almost chaotic until something else joins that warmth: the charge of aether. My pain begins to ebb.

Another set of pulses. It ebbs down further.

More, and more, and more.

Each pulse takes away the pain. I find myself able to breathe again after a pulse near the base of my skull, and only then does it occur to me what's happening: Kam's healing me from within. Patching me up. She's using the Decay and her own healing magic to make me better.

Another tendril pricks my other arm. This one doesn't hurt. More pulses, and I feel the strange coldness of the Decay that Desdemona bonded to me begin to filter away. Going elsewhere. Pulled into Kam.

As it clears, I feel her again. Not like before. It's nothing so immediate or harsh.

But it's there all the same as she works on me. Every time her warmth pools inside me and pulses, I feel it strengthen. It doesn't insist. It doesn't demand to know me. Instead, it offers itself to me. It asks me to let it in — not forever, just when I want it to.

It doesn't take away my doubts. I still feel something tighten around that jagged feeling in my chest, whispering to me that I don't deserve this. That I'm getting off too light, and that I should be ashamed for getting off at all.

Maybe it's the warmth in me right now, but it's muted.

I can't even really worry about it. Kam urges me not to worry, so I don't. I just let myself slip into that warmth.

…
…
…

When I wake again, I feel the tendrils slipping away. I don't want to leave, but I know I have to. I'm brought out of the void, and slip gently free of Kam and onto the floor.

It's bright, even in the dim light of Rory and my bedroom. I hear voices talking as my eyes try to adjust.

"Is she...? Did you...?"
"I had to use some of the Decay to replace the blood she lost."
"That's gonna be a change..."
"Yeah."

Finally, Kam comes into focus. I smile at her.

Only then do I feel how sharp my canines are as they bite into my lower lip. Oh.

My excitement doesn't have time to last as Kam's smile falters, her face paling considerably. She stumbles, and I watch in muted horror as she collapses next to me.

Her hand reaches out to stroke my face. "Worth it."

Then her eyes close.