Lysara's cough echoed through the silent forest, sharp and grating, cutting through the stillness like a jagged blade. She leaned against the base of a gnarled tree, a cigarette pressed between her trembling fingers. Her once-pristine golden hair hung in limp, greasy strands, her eyes hollowed by sleepless nights and the endless strain of her encounters with Kael Draven.
Despite the ragged state of her body, she still managed to light another cigarette, the ember flaring to life as she took a deep drag. The acrid smoke filled her lungs, and for a brief moment, the tension in her chest loosened. But then the cough returned, harsher this time, shaking her frail frame.
"Damn it," Lysara muttered, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw from a combination of the smoke and the constant screaming that Kael seemed to pull from her during their endless, exhausting encounters.
"Still smoking, I see," came Kael's low, mocking voice.
Lysara didn't flinch. She'd grown used to his sudden appearances, his massive form slipping from the shadows like a predator stalking its prey.
"What's it to you?" she shot back, her voice laced with defiance as she exhaled a plume of smoke in his direction.
Kael chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "You're destroying yourself," he said, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement. "And yet, you can't stop."
Lysara smirked, though the expression faltered as another cough racked her body. "Guess I learned that from your magic," she said, her voice breaking.
Kael's smirk widened, his massive form coiling around her. "Perhaps," he said.
---
The cycle continued, unbroken and relentless.
Each time Lysara regained her strength, Kael returned, his hunger for her insatiable. He pushed her to her limits, savoring every moment of her surrender before pulling back just as she teetered on the edge of collapse.
Lysara's body grew weaker with each encounter. Her once-bright eyes were now dulled, her skin pale and mottled. The constant smoking only worsened her condition, her lungs wracked with fits of coughing that left her gasping for breath.
Yet, she couldn't stop.
She clung to the cigarettes like a lifeline, the act of lighting one and inhaling the smoke grounding her in a world that had long since spiraled out of her control.
"You're going to kill yourself," one of the remaining villagers had said to her one day, his tone equal parts angry and desperate.
Lysara had laughed bitterly, the sound ending in a harsh cough. "Good," she'd said, her voice raspy. "Maybe then I'll finally get some peace."
---
Kael found her stubbornness both frustrating and amusing.
"You're a mess," he remarked one night, his voice filled with mockery as he watched her light yet another cigarette.
Lysara smirked, her trembling hands steadying as she exhaled a plume of smoke. "Takes one to know one," she retorted.
Kael leaned closer, his massive form towering over her. "You think this makes you strong?" he asked, his silver eyes gleaming with malice. "All it does is make you weaker. And yet, I can't look away."
Lysara laughed, the sound raw and broken. "Maybe I like being weak," she said. "At least then I have an excuse for letting you destroy me."
Kael's smirk faltered for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I don't destroy you, Lysara," he said softly. "I perfect you."
---
The nights grew longer, the encounters more intense. Kael's magic pushed Lysara to her breaking point over and over again, leaving her drained and trembling on the forest floor. Yet, she always rose to meet him, her defiance as unyielding as ever.
"You keep coming back," she said one night, her voice barely above a whisper as she lay sprawled on the ground, her body trembling with exhaustion. "Why?"
Kael's silver eyes gleamed as he leaned over her, his voice a low murmur. "Because you're mine," he said simply. "And I don't give up what's mine."
Lysara smirked, though the expression lacked its usual edge. "Could've fooled me," she muttered, her voice breaking into a harsh cough.
Kael frowned, his massive form coiling around her protectively. "That cough of yours is getting worse," he said.
"What do you care?" Lysara shot back, her voice weak but defiant.
Kael didn't answer. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice a low growl. "Don't forget, Lysara," he said. "You don't get to break before I say so."
---
Despite her deteriorating condition, Lysara refused to stop. Each day, she smoked more, the cigarettes becoming both a crutch and a weapon. She used them to mock the villagers, blowing smoke in their faces whenever they dared to approach her.
"You think you're better than me?" she sneered at one of them one afternoon, her voice raspy and filled with venom. "At least I know what I am. You're all just pretending to be decent while you hide in your hovels and pray I don't destroy what little you have left."
The villagers avoided her as much as they could, their fear of her turning to outright hatred. But Lysara didn't care. She thrived on their disdain, using it as fuel to keep herself going.
---
Kael watched her from the shadows, his silver eyes glinting with approval. She was becoming everything he wanted—hardened, cruel, and utterly dependent on him.
Yet, he couldn't ignore the toll his games were taking on her.
One night, as he stood over her trembling form, he reached out with a tendril of dark energy, brushing it gently against her cheek. "You're falling apart," he said, his voice softer than usual.
Lysara opened her eyes, her gaze unfocused. "Maybe," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But at least I'm doing it my way."
Kael chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual malice. "Your way," he repeated, his voice filled with mockery. "And where has that gotten you?"
Lysara smirked weakly, her lips curling around the cigarette still clutched between her fingers. "Right here," she said. "With you."
---
The admission hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. Kael studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"You're a fool," he said finally, his voice low.
Lysara laughed, the sound raw and broken. "Takes one to know one," she said, echoing her earlier words.
Kael's smirk returned, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement. "Perhaps," he said. "But at least I know how the game ends."
"And how's that?" Lysara asked, her voice trembling.
Kael leaned closer, his voice a low growl. "You break," he said simply. "And I move on."
---
Lysara's smirk faltered, but she quickly recovered. "Not if I break you first," she said, her voice filled with defiance.
Kael chuckled, the sound low and chilling. "We'll see," he said.
And as the cycle continued, both of them knew that neither would stop until there was nothing left to take.
---
The forest around them seemed to hold its breath as Kael's dark magic enveloped Lysara once more, the shadows wrapping around her trembling form.
But even as she surrendered to him, her cigarette never left her lips.
And her cough grew louder with each passing day.