Persephone's Point of View
♕︎ ♕︎ ♕︎
Of all the curses I've endured in my life—and trust me, there have been more than I care to count—Fox has managed to carve out a special little niche for himself in the hierarchy of annoyances. And let's be clear, just because he's one of the more mild irritations doesn't mean he's any less infuriating. If anything, his persistence only makes him worse. He's like a burr under my skin that refuses to be shaken loose, a thorn wedged into a place where it does nothing but nag and irritate. Small enough to be harmless, but constantly reminding me of its annoying presence, never letting up, no matter how many times I try to ignore him or push him away.
Fox is relentless. He doesn't get subtlety—not even a little bit. And after all these years of his persistent, annoying attempts to worm his way into my life, I've had enough. It's time to lay things out clearly for him. No more games. If he doesn't get the message this time, well, he's only asking for the disaster that's inevitably coming his way.
And I do know where this leads. The inevitable ending. It's all too familiar, a place I've been before. That deep, cold pit of chaos where everything unravels and it's too late to fix the mess. I've seen it before, in the dark corners of my mind where my fears and instincts have a habit of playing out the worst-case scenarios. And trust me, I know this one all too well. If Fox keeps pushing me, keeps testing the limits of my patience and my control, it's going to go south—fast. And it won't be pretty. For anyone.
As frustrating as he is—and he really is—what's truly maddening is that I don't even want to kill him. Not really. Not deep down, where all the disgust and rage should reside. I don't wish death upon him. I don't. But, and this is the key part—if he keeps pushing me, if he keeps needling at me until I can't handle it anymore—something will snap. Something dark, something primal that I've kept locked away for so long will rise. And if that happens... I won't be able to stop it.
I've fought this part of me for years, buried it deep, shoved it so far down that it's a barely remembered thing. But it's there. It's always there, just under the surface, waiting for the right trigger. And if Fox happens to be the idiot who sets it off, then he's done for. He'll be dead. It won't be intentional. I'll regret it, but it won't matter. I'll be standing there, staring at his lifeless body, knowing exactly how it all unfolded—and knowing exactly what will come after.
His death wouldn't just be the loss of a nuisance. It would be the first spark that ignites something much bigger. Something far worse than I could handle. It would send everything crashing down, a chain reaction that would tear through my life and the world around me. The Kitsune Kingdom—his kingdom—would never let it go. It would turn into a war, a blood-soaked, irreversible war. The sort of chaos where innocent lives are lost, families destroyed, alliances shattered. And I? I would be the one to blame. My name would be cursed throughout history. All because Fox couldn't keep his distance.
And for what? For what, exactly? Because he refuses to take a hint? Because he can't stop poking at the part of me that wants nothing to do with him? Because I can't even stand the thought of him—or anyone—getting too close? The idea of someone touching me, of anyone laying their hands on me, makes my skin crawl. The thought of being in the same room with a group of men, of their eyes on me, their presence filling the air, just makes the walls feel like they're closing in, suffocating me, dragging me into the depths of panic. It's irrational, pathetic even, but it's the truth.
And yesterday, when the walls felt like they were closing in and I almost lost control? It was them—Pride-Niklaus and his group—that kept me tethered to reality. Their mere presence, especially Vain-Dove and Nora-Camilla, grounded me. I never thought I'd find myself grateful for them. I never thought I'd need them. But in that moment, their proximity was the only thing stopping me from losing it entirely.
But the truth? The truth is that I don't feel safe around anyone. Not men. Not anyone, really. But especially men. They make my skin crawl, they set off alarms in my head, and all I feel is fear. Raw, naked fear. And it's always there, like a shadow that's impossible to outrun.
Pride-Niklaus, though? He's the exception. Why him? That's the question that keeps haunting me. He's the bastard son of the monster who caused all of this. Lust-Rhae's son. My sworn enemy. A man whose very existence should make my blood boil with hatred and disgust. But with him? When it's just the two of us? I don't feel that cold, bone-deep dread that I feel with everyone else. He doesn't trigger it. And that should terrify me more than anything else in the world.
Because it doesn't make sense. None of it makes sense. But there it is. He's the only man I've ever felt even the faintest pull of attraction toward. And that, more than anything, drives me mad. I'm not proud of it. I don't want it. I don't even understand it. But it's there, buried deep down, and I can't escape it, no matter how hard I try. And I hate it. I hate that it's him.
Why him, of all people? Why Pride-Niklaus Zayn Python-Cervenka? Why does it have to be him, the son of the man who made me this way? Why is he the only one who doesn't make my skin crawl?
I'll never act on these feelings. I can't. I won't. But the fact that they exist, that I can't shut them down, is enough to drive me to the edge of insanity.
"...listening?"
Fox's voice snaps me back to the present, dragging me out of my spiraling thoughts. I blink, realizing I've been staring at my clenched hands, my mind still a whirlwind of frustration and unwanted desire. Slowly, I raise my gaze to meet his, and there he is, sitting far too close for comfort. His irritating presence is like a weight on my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs.
"Calli?" Fox presses, his voice sharper now, tinged with irritation. "Are you even listening to me?"
I force myself to focus on him, even though every instinct screams at me to distance myself. I don't want him near me. I don't want anyone near me. But especially him.
"My mind was elsewhere," I say flatly, as if that's a perfectly acceptable excuse. I can feel Pride-Niklaus's gaze across the room, burning into the back of my neck. The weight of his eyes only makes it harder to breathe.
Fox sighs dramatically, as if he's a saint dealing with the most difficult woman in the world. "I had no idea my love was so bothersome to you," he says with mock hurt. "You've never told me this before. All these years, and you've never been direct."
I roll my eyes. Oh, of course he's still on this. Typical Fox.