"I just can't do..." Netta punctuated her sentence by flinging her hands out, feeling the magic forcing its way out of her through the burst that flew out of her fingers. "it. I can't fucking do anything."

"Well," Ash said, his voice from somewhere behind and just to the left of her, a dangerous burr. "we could always do fucking-"

Netta let out a disgusted sigh, throwing a hand through the mess of her hair.

"Be serious for a minute. If I don't figure out what my power is capable of, I'm going to find myself in trouble, if I continue down this path. I mean," she turned, daring to look at the tall figure of her Familiar against the lines of snow-covered trees behind him. "what if I have to deal with one of them - by myself? What the hell am I supposed to do, then?"

They had gone out to the woods, alone, to see if there was any way that Netta could find out how she could use magic. She had to admit that at this point, it seemed that it was as she had always feared.

She did not seem to have any ability towards the use of offensive or defensive magic.

Ashwood, now firmly in the form of a gaunt, deep-golden skinned man, leaned against a tree, cocking an eyebrow. That eyebrow cock normally would have infuriated Netta. "You ought to have more faith in your little insurance policy - by way of your old friend, Ash."

He made a mock bow then, his hand extended.

Netta allowed herself a moment to look at him then as he raised his smiling, intimidating face back up.

Dressed in a checked fleece long-sleeved shirt, Ash looked (almost) like a normal human. It helped, as well, that he was able to make his horns - those great, twisting masses on top of his head - not appear.

Ashwood - her old friend, and whatever he was to her, now - had horns.

It came as a shock to realize just how little she had known about him, after all. Where, after all, had this large form come from?

Since she had grown into a woman, she had never seen him with his deep honey-colored skin and this brown hair. One thing that she could not remember him possessing were those massive horns that she saw at times, affixed firmly to his head.

When she saw his face tighten, as though in thought, she soon felt the whispering of his presence in her mind.

She acted on impulse, slamming him out.

The shock of the action sent her staggering backwards until she almost tripped. Her arms wheeled out, spinning as she tried to regain her footing.

Ash was upon her in a heart beat, arm stuck out to catch her shoulder just as she regained her posture.

Netta turned towards him - as always, having to look up at him. A censorious look was on his face, surprising Netta in the blazing annoyance that was obvious there.

She ripped herself away from him, stepping backwards, her gaze locked onto his face.

She tried to find rhyme or reason to the harshness in his features - the hard, chipping edges, the unhandsome amalgamation of his big nose, the inhuman burn of his deep-set eyes, the cutting of lines into his face.

What kind of a creature whose sole existence was for temptation looked so, well - unbecoming?

Forbidding?

He's lying to you. That thought came as it had often been doing recently. It burned in its truth that she could not make herself ignore. It became louder, every time she touched him to find burning heat in his skin. She looked into his eyes to find only further certainty that she was playing with fire.

Ash stared at her, annoyance and - pain? - in his gaze. Finally, he set his jaw. "Is there something - some grievance - that you wish to share with me, Master?"

The way he said it - the sarcasm, the anger - still seemed to only be masking some deeper emotion. Nevertheless, it hurt. It shocked her to hear him refer to her by that title.

Netta clenched her fists tight.

"You have something you want to tell me?"

Ash scoffed, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest. "Like what? Favorite sex positions, or -"

Netta closed her eyes, trying to tame her own growing anger. "Cut the shit. This whole thing is getting less charming as time goes on. And it didn't have a great start in my heart to begin with."

Ash laughed, the sound joyless, almost terrifying. "Nettles, Nettles, Nettles - you hurt my feelings. When have I ever hid anything from you?"

In spite of the cruel smirk on his mouth, Netta could see the wariness in his eyes, the way he could not seem to meet her gaze.

Netta said, "If I wanted to be cruel, I would ask what it is that you feel for me. But I don't want to know."

The dampening of the fire in his eyes for a moment made Netta regret having said it. Still, she continued.

"All I want to know is what you are, Ash." When he opened his mouth, Netta stopped him, holding a hand up. "Don't start lying to me, Ash. You've never lied aloud to me, and I don't want you to start now."

Not mentioned was the fact that he was lying through omission, by not speaking the truth.

Ash sighed, running a hand through the thick mass of his dark hair. He breathed for a few moments, seeming to be trying to gather his thoughts.

His pause worried Netta - began to scare her.

Finally, he looked up at her for a moment before his gaze flicked away, as though unable to meet her eyes. "I can't tell you."

Netta groaned, leaning against a tree for a moment before turning back on him.

"And why not?"

Ash had been pinching the bridge of his nose, then in a sudden movement, he snapped his hand away. He shouted, "I'm Cursed, alright?"

The admission surprised Netta, brought for a moment to her the realization that she was dealing with something that certainly was ancient.

A Cursed One was a Monster who had lived before the great Humbling of Monsters. It was one who could not speak of Its identity, whose tongue could no longer form the words, the description, for what It was, before the fall of Its own kind.

One thing was for certain, however, and that was that they were, unerringly, creatures of legend.

Ancient. Powerful.

Netta took a step backward, then watched as Ash's gaze snapped to her. He lifted his powerful arm out towards her, as though he was about to demand that she come closer.

He said, "Don't step away from me, little girl. You need to face what you've asked for. Never said that I did not warn you, with my power, my arrogance -"

Netta snapped, her hand snaking out, striking the tree behind her.

She barely felt the surge of energy that tore out of her and was sent through the material of the tree.

"You - you're lying! And - you never said it in words to me! You wanted me to buy into this image I constructed of you, for you. I - I was the one who started calling you an Incubi."

She felt the breath enter her lungs in a heavy blow - realization almost striking her, like a blow.

"You never said that you were - that you weren't -"

Ash closed his eyes, then lifted his head up to the sky. He breathed in, and the motion seemed to fill his entire body, expanding his chest, his stomach.

Finally, he lowered his head, regarding Netta with implacable, ancient eyes.

"Still, I did lie to you. I know enough to know that what I did was petty - a way of stopping you from fleeing me, for I covet your intimacy."

Netta grabbed onto her chest, feeling as though at any moment she would awaken from a nightmare.

Still she found the courage to face him, to look into the gaunt, starving eyes of the Monster.

"How could you be..." She could not finish that sentence, as, unerringly, the other thing she knew of Cursed Ones came to her.

They could not survive in the wilds, not for as long as an ancient had to be alive for.

"Ash," Netta said, unable to stop herself from saying what she said next. "how could you survive this long?" Unspoken was the question of how he had retained his great - terrible - power.

Ash thrust a hand through his hair. He paused, then his other hand joined, grasping in irritated annoyance, his eyes clenching shut.

"I don't -" He broke off, shaking his head. "I woke up in the desert, so far from home - and then I found you - like I was supposed to find you, smelling so sweet... So, so sweet."

He buried his face in his hands, breathed heavily, then continued. "I wanted to eat you when I smelled you, but I just - I wanted to taste your fear, then you refused to run away from me." He rose his face out of his hands, and regarded Netta, after having said such a fearful - horrible - admission, his eyes seemed to breathe with fire, his mouth quivering.

"I don't know how I got - there, but you were the first living creature I found." His tongue flicked out of his mouth, and Netta caught brief sight of his sharp, pointed teeth. "If it had not been you I found first -"

Netta cut him off, her breathing pounding in her chest. "You couldn't - you can't be able to over power a - a Witch, not like that -" she stopped suddenly, looking up at Ash. Horrible understanding came to her, as she gazed at his still, sober face.

She took a step backward, until her back hit the tree behind her. She spoke, more to herself than to him any longer.

"No, you can't - no Monster could do that -" But a Cursed One -

"Nettles," Ash spoke in a harsh, desperate whisper, his hand extended out towards her as he walked to her. "I don't want your fear, not like this - I would never -"

"Bullshit!" Netta curled her hand into a fist, sent it backwards, hitting the tree behind her. "If you didn't want me to fear you, to save me this, you wouldn't have - you didn't..." She trailed off, feeling tears, long denied, burning her tear ducts.

She rose an arm up, rested her face against it, feeling the tears burning down her face.

"Take it easy," he said, his harsh voice sounding so odd in a husked endearment. "there's no time for this, we need to deal with this, later-"

When Netta brought her clenched fist behind her to strike the tree once more, she had to leap away. She found herself being caught by the very Monster that she had been dreading, entangled in his massive arms.

The noise that cracked from behind her was terrible .

Then she felt herself being jerked away with sickening speed, falling onto the ground, face first.

She turned around in time to see the tree that she had been standing in front of lay, fallen, where she had been standing.

Netta sat up on her hands, staring at the fallen tree. Looking at it, she recalled that the tree had been hearty, powerful.

Now it looked desiccated, as though it had been rotted out from the inside and had fallen over.

Had she - killed it?

How could that be possible? How could her magic possibly kill something, destroying its life force with three, unintentional, blows?

"Oh, Goddess -" The realization - the sudden feeling of the immense heat that lay beneath her - brought her gaze downwards.

She was sitting astride Ashwood, who lay on his back, hands gripping her shoulders. he had lain on his back to protect her fall.

She gasped, tried automatically to dislodge herself from him before she was stopped, forced to look down on his face.

"Do not treat me like some fearful terror," he snarled, his mouth opening to reveal those sharp, heavy teeth. "you took me, awoke me when I was near death - you look at what you've brought back to life, and understand that it is this darkness that drew you to me."

Netta did as he ordered her, shaking.

She looked down at his face, angular, a deep gold in color - heavy, winged brows, a full mustache whose lines drew like vertical slashes down either side of his thin, impassive lips.

His eyes burned up at her, the truth in them, the sincerity, frightening her more than the playful, predatory lies that his purple eyes once held for her.

She spoke, hardly aware that she was doing it.

"Why can't a mutual respect - why can't that be enough?" She trembled, so very afraid - but edging along it was something else, something terrible. "Why do you want me to gaze into some abyss, to want it?"

To want you.

His gaze did not falter on her, he did not blink - did not, after all, need to blink, breathe. "Nothing is ever enough for me - for I am that abyss."

He clenched his teeth, his mouth open so that his pheromone-shaded breath blew towards Netta, making her have to clench her mouth shut, a hand pressed over her mouth, her nose.

"Sate me or kill me. I went for too long without reprieve from the madness inside of me, this infinite hunger, loneliness."

Netta sat further up on him, then looked down on the fearful creature whose form was a great, terrifying man. Something in her wanted to know what this loneliness he spoke of was, but she quieted it.

With her hand clamped still over her mouth and nose, trying to block the effect of his pheromones on her body that was already responding, softening, she said, "You said that you can never be sated."

He did not blink up at her, although his mouth closed into a cold, emotionless line. Finally, he said, "I know."

Everything help her, but Netta looked down at his terrible, inhuman face, with his sharp, cutting teeth and those glowing - ancient - eyes, and she wanted to lose herself in that fire. If only for a momentary reprieve from everything that she had become.

Would, one day, transfigure into.

Netta stared down at the Monster - her Familiar - and removed the hand from her mouth. Slowly she moved until she was resting her hands on the ground next to either side of his head.

Ash's gaze flicked up to her, a curious - annoyed - glance. His teeth ground, cutting, into his lower lip.

Netta spoke, her face a foot away from Ash's face.

"If you can't be sated, then you should try to sate me."

Ash's eyes blazed in surprise, and before he could do something - speak - Netta shot forward, took his mouth with her own.

For a few seconds, he was too surprised to react, and Netta had free reign of him, her lips aggressively sucking on his lips, grinding, running past the inner lining of his bottom lip. His skin burned her, the sensation making her heart beat even heavier in her chest.

With a groan, Ash came to life, arms springing around her back like a sharp-toothed leg snap, crushing her to him.

His tongue entered her mouth quickly, filling the space of her mouth hungrily.

Netta cried out, still not used to his passion, his desire as it burned her where he touched, tasted.

She pulled away from him and, in a daze, saw for a moment the fuller, longer length of his tongue - which had been embedding itself down her throat.

It disappeared inside of his mouth, as he panted.

Barely able to fight off her own daze - Netta, hoarsely, said, "Fuck me, Monster."

His gaze burned, seemed to deepen, darken.

"You want me to fuck you? You can fuck me right now, like this, in this position." His hands came around, grasped her ass, his broad, long fingers clenching her tight as he forced her to grind against him.

He pressed her, and she realized that she could feel the growth of him, his erection through the imagined fabric of his clothes.

"No." Netta looked away from the harsh, unforgiving face of the Monster below her.

She could not bear it, then, to know that she was touching, feeling, deeply inside of her, growing like a terrible root system in her psyche.

A tie to a creature.

She wanted to make believe that she was feeling a man, was being held by a mortal human.