| | How long had it been since they've been together? Time flies by without a care except for adding unwanted stress and wrinkles. The stress being her siblings one-by-one remaking their appearances along with Xanthe wanting to claim Miyako for herself. With Masashi's equipment and Mao's abilities, Miyako is unable to kill them much to her annoyance. Part of her still blames them for the events that unfolded, but that was over sixteen years ago. She's mature enough to know that everything she's done is by her hand, and not theirs. They didn't kill nearly everyone at the wedding or composed a poison that's slowly driving her insane. With Dusan, though, she feels her life becoming more stable and sane. To come home to a handsome man smelling like fire and smoke with a passion hungry enough to devour her forces everything else out of her mind. His calm composure not feeding into her crazier side, and settles the wild emotions coursing through her.
Recently, they've been arguing more and more over her being an assassin. Though she had dropped the seduction missions, it didn't mean her wardrobe had changed. There's always a need for surveillance and scouting, and one couldn't do that under the guise of a nun. Thin fabrics stretched over creamy skin with flashy cheap jewelry to catch wandering eyes. Coming home smelling like a ripe Omega with a heavy dose of Alpha pheromones was enough for Dusan and her to argue well into the night of what exactly her job description entailed. She belonged exclusively to him, and would never sleep with another. On the same coin, there had been times when Dusan's suits smelled like an Omega, and it nearly sent her into a berserk mode.
There have been uncounted times in the past where she thought he would leave, and yet he's stayed. Truly, there is no one like him. He doesn't mind when she comes home soaked in blood or worn out from a month-long mission. Bringing gifts or massaging her sore body. He's never spoken the words, but she has in the quiet nights of their passion. Dusan probably thinks she doesn't mean it. Who could love him in a way she desires him to love her? To be there for each other and no one else? Though the thoughts are small, she wonders what life would be like without him in it, and it causes her heart to ache.
Yet...
She proposes the Bonding Festival as they get ready for bed. Her eyes bouncing to his practically unreadable face to decern whether he would agree to go. She mentions the food, masquerades ball, and fireworks. Parades are too crowded and they have no children. Passing it off as a casual idea so if he declined she wouldn't feel disappointed. Of course, his job as an agent is more important, and everything is tentative depending on who was deciding to invade Earth that week. There had been no discussion of love or bonding. So, she commissions a unique kimono for the event.
Miyako enters the masquerade ballroom in heavy silk robes and a bone mask concealing the upper part of her face and flaring out to the side. Greens, blacks, and golds adore her and highlight the smooth skin begging to be touched and bruised. Embroided silk flowers on the left side of her head help keep her hair pinned back and up exposing her unmarked neck. Why would such a beauty enter the ballroom unguided by a potential mate? Was she alone? Would Dusan show up in his suit and a cheap mask he bought at one of the many stands outside?
"Where oh where could he be?" she questions as her eyes dart around the room. Couples crowd the room as they dance to the waltzing music provided by the small orchestra set in the back. Laughter, love, and pheromones mix giving everyone a sort of drug-induced high. Holding a sleeve to her nose, she can smell Dusan's smokey scent through the fabrics from the mark on her wrist. No, he would be here, she was sure.
"Are you here alone?" a male voice calls. Miyako turns to look at the handsome man beside her. Dressed as a vampire noble from the style of his suit, he extends his hand out to her. Pink eyes glance at the hand then back to his face hidden by the lace mask.
"Do you ask every woman this question?" She lowers her arm to grab hold of the matching umbrella by her side. The handle hiding a blade in case she needs it, but stabbing someone would cause blood to stain the expensive silk, and she's rather fond of the outfit. The man chuckles.
"You're the first beautiful woman to come here tonight." He didn't answer the question, and the pickup line is cheesy. Had she been younger perhaps she would've swoon to it. "Did your boyfriend or girlfriend not show up?" Miyako looks back to the crowd searching for Dusan but doesn't see him. Either he doesn't want to be seen or he's not here.
"And how is any of this your business? You must be desperate for a partner to come here searching for heartbroken women to become your bride. My guess is you're trying to create a harem." To anyone not paying attention, the man is unaffected by her words, but Miyako can tell she's hit the nail on the head. His eyes flicker with panic, and his posture becomes rigid. "I suggest you leave me be and find your prey elsewhere."
"And who are you to say no to me?" Oh, this wasn't a good start to the night. Peeved and annoyed by this random man, she flashes a sweet smile as she extends her left hand up almost as if she's going to caress his cheek. Instead, she grabs his throat and brings him down to her height so they can look each other in the eye.
"Final warning." She tightens her hold enough to prevent him from breathing for several long moments before releasing him. He scurries away and nearly runs into a waiter walking around with champagne glasses. Briefly, she wonders if she shouldn't have just killed him, but that would be messy. Perhaps Dusan is rubbing off on her. So used to killing and disposing of bodies that it's just another errand in her book. "I need a drink." Recomposing herself, she picks up a champagne flute and takes a sip. Maybe she'll murder the man if Dusan doesn't show up to make herself feel better.
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