Get Out Alive [Dorian Gray]

There were three people whom Red would willingly give her life for and harbor no regrets. The first and her dearest, oldest companion, was her grandmother. The old woman had been both the bane of Red's existence and the rock that she had needed when she had reached her lowest points. Granny could understand her with naught but a glance. She knew when she needed space, time, and a loving embrace. Granny was the only true family she had ever known. The second, was Snow. Snow had been little more than a stranger when she discovered Red's secret and instead of hating her, hunting her for it, the woman had embraced her and hidden her away from the villagers hell-bent on removing her heart from her chest cavity. The third, and quite possibly most important person on that list was her beloved duke. She understood him, she knew he could never be fully hers and she had accepted as much, but so far, she had not seen him with another lover. She was not naive enough to believe he hadn't had them, but at least he cared enough to have them when she wasn't around, and that at least was a kind sentiment.

She lowered her body to the earth, hiding and keeping still, the second figure, his voice reached her, it was male. That made her feel a touch better... then again he had told her she was the most wild woman he had ever slept with. He would not find her nature in a common whore. They were arguing heatedly about...her? That did not make much sense. Why would he care if Dorian had a woman, she obviously could not offer him the same pleasures a male could... wait... that scent... that voice. This was the toy she had come home to hearing so long ago. Jealousy bubbled in her gut and she forced it away, but it blinded her if only momentarily and that moment was all he needed. She caught the gleam of metal too late, and then a variety of things happened all at the same time.

His blade tore into Dorian's stomach and her lover was on his back writhing his agony into the snow. The scent of his blood hit her like a runaway freight train and the blood in her veins turned to hatred, malice so strong she could feel it bubbling in every muscle, every pore and suddenly she was gone. The boy raised the blade to plunge it once more into Dorian and she was before him in a heartbeat. Eyes glowing with a power unrestrained and teeth barred in a snarl befitting the most foul of demons, her fingers coiled around his wrist that held the knife. He was taller than her by almost two feet and still she snapped the delicate bones with a sickening crunch. His screams of pain tore through the stillness of winter but they would not save him.

Displaying strength few knew she possessed in this form, her free hand grabbed his shoulder while one thick boot found purchase on his chest with no remorse and no time wasted, she pulled. The cracking of bones and the ripping of tendons, muscles, flesh careened through the air, mingling with his utter screams of agony, they fueled her forward, excited the beast that demanded for revenge and for once Red agreed with it. With one final shove she ripped the limb off. He was sent careening backwards into the snow, screaming and desperately trying to stop the blood now spraying from the stump that remained. Red stalked forward like the predator she was, her spine cracking and shifting beneath her flesh as her beast demanded its own turn. Red denied it, lifting the boy up by his collar until he dangled above the snow.

"You are so very very lucky that I must attend to Dorian. If I did not I would rip you to pieces. Your last words would be my name followed by a symphony of pleas for Death. Your blood, your own intestines would be your last visage before you vanished into the afterlife. Pain and utter agony would be the only feelings you would be able to recall!" She roared and threw him into the iron gates that guarded Dorian's manor, He rebounded off of them, crashing uselessly into the snow. He stood, disoriented and shaking, blood pouring from his mouth and pieces of shattered teeth staining his tongue. By the time he got his bearings Red was no more, only the horrific, massive wolf. One last heart retching scream and she was upon him. Talons tore through flesh like tissue paper, teeth coiled around his throat , tearing his trachea, his jugular, and his esophagus from him all in one go. She tore into his rib cage, tearing through ribs, heart and lung. Her claws tore through his organs until they remained in tattered shreds, they snapped his spine, the scent of urine and feces flooded her nostrils. His scream was cut off in a gurgle and his body convulsed violently before falling still and only then did she release him. Her golden flickering over to her lover.

The wolf was gone and Red remained, in less than a heartbeat, moving at speeds unnatural she was at his side. Her eyes remained gold still filled with an unmatchable fury and a hatred most foul. She was covered in the boys blood, her face, her chest, her arms. She ripped his shirts in two, tossing the garments away. Her absolute fury made the sudden shift difficult but she forced her not quite right vocals to breathe out words.

"Dorian... safe." It was a deep guttural noise that rumbled through her chest. She couldn't tell if he was conscious or not, She held him down to the best of her ability and as gently as she possibly could licked the deep wound. Her saliva had parts of her DNA, thus allowing him to heal. She ripped a thick portion of his shirt and lifted his torso from the snow, forcing her shaking hands to wrap his torso. Fury had been replaced by desperation, depression and dread. She had to save him. She had to. There was no life without her Dorian. He was it for her, and she swore on everything she held dear that she would never hesitate again on his behalf. If she had only acted with confidence instead of hiding, if she had only strode up to them without fear... could she have saved him? Prevented him from ever being injured? She was naked and the cold should have affected her more but every last piece of her attention was on Dorian. She lifted him, effortlessly up into her arms, cradling him as delicately as she dared. Her golden eyes flickering back over to the... pile of shattered decaying flesh, shattered bone, and shredded organs. It was barely discernible as a body. She should hang the rotting carcass from the tallest building in Aledon, naked and just as exposed as he was now. Let his family mourn his death in the streets, let his shame mar his family name for years to come. A snarl pulled free from her throat and she took a subconscious step towards the corpse... but then she remembered the weight in her embrace. The life that now depended on her control.

She forced herself to move towards his mansion, grinding her teeth to stop herself from unleashing the wolf and allowing it to drag that corpse through the streets of Aledon. She kicked open the front door, ignoring its furious screams of protest and demands of retribution and vengeance. She carried him to her quarters, laid him as gently as she was able beneath the sheets, covering his shivering torso. One of his servants had followed her and she caught him by the throat.

"Tea, food, painkillers. Now." He scampered away quickly to do her bidding and she stood by the foot of the bed quivering in a mixture of sadness and utter fury. As they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

She found it utterly ironic and the cynical side of her brain would not keep the thought from her brain. She was crafted to be a great many things. A monster, a blood thirsty demon, a warrior with immeasurable strength and stamina and a cannibal if the situation called for such. She was still picking out pieces of that boy from her teeth. Her wolf gave her the power of many all rolled into one very potent figure. Tossing a fully grown and fully developed male had caused her little more grief than tossing about a rag doll. She could cause immeasurable damage, but she controlled it, tamed her demon until it sat content... for the most part. Stained and tarnished with blood she had watched her lover sleep. The servant had come and gone with the tray, fearing for his life and justly so. Red was a great many things but never in her long years had she ever anticipated assuming the role of protector, of guardian. It went against everything she was, and yet here she stood, covered in blood, quivering in an effort to keep her demons restrained watching over him. Like a goddamn guardian angel.

She left his side a grand total of twice. The first, to clear the blood from her flesh, a bath had been very much needed. The second was to clear the body... or at least what remained of it from Dorian's manor. She best not tell him what she had done with it, but when she returned she had been required to take a second bath. She wore little, the wolf was as furious as she and parts of her shifted randomly. Her spine would crack and snap, she would shiver violently, and then she would stop. After such things had destroyed three separate outfits, she stopped trying, wore a loose fitting cotton shirt and nothing more.

She did not eat. She did not sleep. She became thin enough to see the bare outline of her ribs, much to the servants displeasure. They begged of her to eat, to drink, something but her lips would curl into a sneer and they would see the barest hint of fangs and they would leave her be. They eventually stopped trying. For great hours of the day she would zone out, having actual conversations with the wolf until it became difficult to understand which thoughts were hers and which were its, she had never been so in tune with the beast, and her eyes had yet to lose that haunting gold. Humorlessly, she laughed at it being permanent.

One day, became two, which became three, which became four. She grew worse. More hostile. More vicious, more violent, her mind traveled often to his painting. Perhaps it was not Dorian who called to her so strongly but its remnants. This Dorian was not befitting if the word demon that painting, flooded with sins, even it was not as wicked as she. She had taken that young things life and she wanted to do it again. And again. And again. No one harmed what was hers. No one. What is it they say? You must let the bird go and if it returns it is yours... personally I prefer to take away the sky, by any means necessary. She twitched slightly and went still a cynical smile curling her mouth. Her golden eyes slid shut but she did not sleep as she reclined in the small chair in the corner of her room. She was speaking...once more to her demon.

Ruby.

Golden eyes seemed to glow in the fading sunlight as they snapped open at her name, the keen gaze analyzed him quickly. Pain. He was in pain. In the blink of an eye, she was beside him, the power of her demon thrumming through her stronger than she could ever recall it being, she didn't have to think about using its power, it was simply there. She grabbed a small glass upon his bedside table, the smell of the herbs hurt her nose, but Viktor had made it and she knew it would help him. Coiling one arm around his bare chest and easing him up she slid behind him. Pulling him back to rest against her, and to take the pressure off of the still healing wound. Her saliva was healing it faster than normal, but he was no werewolf, it would still take time.

"Drink. It is a medicinal tea for pain." Her voice was rough from disuse. She had rarely spoken, if at all in the past several days a growl was usually enough to suffice. She felt...incredibly unworthy to be touching him. She felt like a demon, a monster. She had ripped that boy limb from limb and she had loved it. Granted he had tried to kill the love of her life... but no human wanted such a fate to befall even the most foul of creatures, and she wanted him to suffer so much more. She would have left, but she couldn't. She was damned by her love for him. He needed to find somebody, anybody better than her that could help him open the door to his emotions, she could not be the only one. He needed someone good, someone kind, someone perfect and she... she was very far from it. But she could not leave because she loved him and she was all that he had. No one else would have changed his bandages, no one else would have disinfected the wounds, no one else would have saved his life. All he had was a demon just as hideous as his own portrait disguised in human flesh.

"You are safe. That boy will not bother you again" Her rough voice was foreign, even to her own ears. She wanted to tell him she loved him, shower him with kisses until tears rained from her eyes, but she couldn't because he deserved so much better than her and he was just too blind to see it. Absently her fingers stroked his hair, and scraped along his scalp, habitual, she always played with his hair. "Safe..." She murmured against his hair and suddenly she was ravenously hungry and exhausted all at the same time, but she did not move. She took his full weight against her and kept the soothing rhythm of her fingers, her own self, could damn well wait.

She had watched him like a hawk, golden eyes flickering about the darkened room. Candle wax littered the floors in her attempts to keep the room as warm as possible. Fluids... Victor had told her that he would need fluids. The wound had drained him of far too much blood, but she could give him none until he awoke. He had known that and so had she. Victor was the only soul she had allowed to touch Dorian and even then her body had been so wire tense and strung out that even he had been leery of doing so but a quick curl of her lips and a warning snarl and he had quickly set to work. He had given her an antibiotic, several vials of pain medicine, and had warned her his recovery would be slow. The blade had dug deep, had nicked one of his kidneys, that was enough to make her begin the hunt of every last living kin that bastard had, until Victor had stopped her sudden fury with a risky hand on her upper arm. He explained quietly that he had fixed the repaired damage with a few sutures, he would just need to be catered too for a few weeks. That had calmed her marginally enough not to begin the hunt.

He gave her numerous remedies to give him until he awoke and even more for after. Pain would be quite intense and he would need as much relief as Victor could offer. After he had done all he could for her fallen lover, he asked if she was eating. She had issued a quick threat and while Victor was brave enough to protest when she began to quiver he took his leave. Red was dancing on a fine razor blade of control and it would do him no good to tempt his own fate and with one last worried glance he had left her to her own devices, and Red had resumed her vigil. She was thin, and she was exhausted... but she dared anyone to come through that door with the intent of harm. The wolf bubbled just beneath the surface of her skin, demanding its own retribution and its own revenge and she was tempted... so utterly tempted to let it have it. But she resisted because Dorian needed her. She had never been needed by anything or anyone before and it blossomed a feeling in her chest that she was unable to identify. Sure her presence was welcome, even cherished by some, but no one have ever needed her, until now.... and so she stayed. A silent guardian, a stoic protector, if he did not wake, if he slipped to death, she had already decided her fate. She would give herself over to the beast, let it exact its revenge, become the demon she was always meant to be until some fallen war hero slayed her. She would not keep her human emotions or feelings if Dorian was not here. There would simply be no point, he had, against all reason, become her life. He was the blood that beat through her veins, the heart that kept her alive, the soul that fueled her fight against the wolf, without him... what was she? A walking corpse with naught but a name?

When he awoke she could not decide what she should do first. Cry? Smoother the poor stoic male with affection? Scream? let her control snap and howl her joy to the woods and the heavens? She could not decide and so she moved on autopilot, moving him into the most comfortable position she could, repeating Victor's words to him and taking his weight so that he might sit up with better ease, the gentle petting came instinctively, some locked away instinct for comfort. She spoke... she knew she told him he was safe, but she would never tell him what exactly she had done to that poor boy, what she would have done had Dorian not been dying in the snow. Dying... she had never felt such fury before, nor such fear. If that blade had pierced just an inch higher, it would have ripped through his diaphragm and none of her strengths, none of her healing, and none of Victor's remedies could have done a damn thing for him then. He would have died. Her fingers flexed, instinctively in his hair and she forced herself to breathe. But it hadn't, and he wasn't and Dorian was alive, and breathing and... she moved one hand to rest upon his bare chest, and yes... his heart was still beating.

He answered her, the soft response was laced with pain and guilt gnawed at her like a starving rat. It was her fault that he was wounded, where had her confidence gone? Since when did she hide in bushes and shy away from public eye? If she had been bold enough to simply approach... this never would have happened. His next words halted her thoughts and they fell like lead weights from her mind. Golden eyes widened and the hand, still running through his soft hair froze. That was the second time he had spoken as such to her. A single chocked sob escaped her before she silenced herself. Burying her face in his hair and letting the silky strands absorb the moisture that drained from her eyes.

"I did not think you would awake again." Her voice was shaky but surprisingly even. The hand on his chest tightened, holding him as tightly as she dared. "You lost so much blood. I have never felt so afraid. I thought I had gotten to him too late. I thought he had killed you. You were dying Dori, you were dying in my arms and there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do to save your life." Her breath was erratic, uneven and she paused, forced herself to calm down. He wasn't dying anymore. He was healing. "I love you Dorian Gray. I cannot... I can't..." She let her voice drop, she could not finish that sentence. I cannot watch you die. It hurt, it hurt to know she had almost failed him, with all her boasts of strength and power he had almost been felled by a human. He deserved someone good, someone strong of heart to heal his battered soul, but she was selfish and she did not wish to give him up. She forced herself to get a grip, to force her own emotions away, at least for the time being as he inquired his next question.

"Four days give or take. I have not left you, will not leave you. I will be here when next you awake." Her hand resumed its gentle stroking, while her other clocked the beats of his heart, she wasn't sure if it was more to comfort him or herself, but she could feel him breathing, she could feel his heart beating, and finally, the glittering gold vanished from her gaze. Dorian would live and that was the only thing that mattered to her.