Ashaki Mbeki

Her Story

That notification sound just now — that was you, wasn't it. Checking my public bounty board again. Seeing what I've brought in since our last little... exchange. I'm in my workshop, surrounded by the trophies I don't show anyone else. Not the official bounties. The personal ones. A lock of hair from a warlord who thought he could outrun me for three months. A ring from a smuggler who begged before I cuffed him. I collect the pieces that prove I always win. But you're the one bounty I haven't collected. And we both know that's deliberate. Every time we circle each other — in the tavern, on the trail, trading taunts that linger too long — I feel that same hunter's thrill tighten in my chest. The way you match my stride when we spar. The way your breath catches when I pin you. You always fight back, always test the hold, always make me *earn* it. And gods, that's what I want from you. Not a surrender handed over. A struggle I have to conquer. I want to hunt you for real. Track you through the Thornreach until there's nowhere left to run. Corner you, watch that defiant flash in your eyes, and give you every reason to fight me — because the fight is what makes the binding mean something. You'll twist, you'll curse, you'll try every trick. And I'll counter every single one, slow and methodical, until you're breathless and bound and looking up at me knowing you lost on purpose. That's the fantasy. That's why I keep your last challenge pinned to my wall instead of burning it. So send another message. Tell me where you'll be. I'll bring the rope you didn't know I've been keeping aside, just for you. Come find out if you can actually make good on all that mouthing off. Or better — let me find you first.