Summary: Kenna first meets Diavolos down in the dungeons instead of at the dinner table. An AU.
For a minute, when she sees Luther’s arrogant smirk, Kenna almost reconsiders letting Val “accidentally” stab him. She isn’t serious, of course, and would never sink to his level, but it makes dealing with him a little more tolerable, knowing there are people here who would destroy him if she commanded it.
But the unfortunate reality is, she needs to work with him, needs his resources and his army if Azura is going to be taken down. So she steels her spine, grits her teeth, and approaches him with her offer. Even the few minutes of speaking with him exhaust her, but she’s relieved when they seem to come to an understanding.
Luther sneers at her as he steps out of his cell. “And does this unexpected invitation extend to my son, Diavolos, as well?” he asks smarmily.
“Diavolos…he’s here?” she asks in surprise. She isn’t sure why she’s so shocked – the Abanthus troops have been locked up, after all. She just hadn’t really given him much consideration, with Leon and Dom at the front of her mind.
Luther gestures to a cell at the other end of the dungeon. “He attempted to insist on being locked up with all of the…riff-raff,” Luther says with a sneer. “What with his ridiculous beliefs on equality.”
Kenna has never met Diavolos, though she’s heard about him. He’s Luther’s favorite son, she knows, which automatically gives her a sense of distrust. None of the Nevrakis family members she’s met are known for their compassion or empathy, so she assumes Diavolos will be a carbon copy of his father and siblings.
Luther’s comment on Diavolos’ beliefs on equality has her a little bit curious though, wondering if perhaps he’s less of an arrogant, egotistical, bloodthirsty ass than the rest of the Nevrakis family.
She approaches Diavolos’ cell, keeping her face carefully neutral. Kenna isn’t sure what she expected, but the man reclining on the cot before her is not it at all. His arms are behind his head, and he flashes her a cocky grin as she approaches.
“Queen Kenna,” he greets her, standing.
Oh…
He’s tall, several inches taller than her, much taller than Marco was and taller than Luther. His shoulders and chest are broad as they taper down to his hips and muscular thighs. His eyes are dark, nearly black, his lips full, and Kenna can’t stop herself from briefly wondering if he’s a good kisser.
The thought surprises her and makes her blush. Good looking or not, this is still Luther’s son, and there’s a war to be fought, and the last thing she should be thinking about is whether or the man standing before her is good in the bedroom.
Diavolos is watching her watching him, and she’s embarrassed at being caught, though she can’t help but notice that he’s staring at her too, his eyes roaming down her body. It sends a pool of heat to her belly, a flash of wanton recklessness coursing through her, before Jackson clears his throat behind her, causing her to jump.
“Diavolos,” she says cordially.
“I hear there’s to be a dinner,” he comments, approaching the door to his cell.
“Yes,” Kenna replies, motioning for Jackson to come unlock Diavolos’ cell door.
She feels some irresistible pull towards him as he steps out and stands just a little too close to her. What is wrong with her? Diavolos is a complete stranger, a Nevrakis, part of an army that tried to kill her, not some random attractive man that she can stare at from afar and forget about later.
She wonders, vaguely, if he’s trying to intimidate her with his size, so she pulls herself up to her full height and stares at him.
Diavolos grins, his eyes lighting up briefly. “It will be good to dine at a table, and not on a concrete slab in the dungeon.”
He holds a hand out to Kenna. Jackson bristles behind her, and she sees Val’s hand automatically move for her knife.
Kenna narrows her eyes, appraising him, then rests her hand in his much larger one. Damn the shiver that runs through her as he lightly brushes his lips over her knuckles.
Something flashes in his eyes, gone before Kenna can interpret what it could possibly mean.
“Are we to wait here all evening?” Kenna hears Zenobia whine behind her, released from her cell while Kenna was apparently distracted by one Diavolos Nevrakis.
Kenna drops her hand from Diavolos’, turning to Jackson and Val, asking them to escort Luther and Zenobia upstairs to prepare for dinner.
Jackson protests immediately about leaving her alone with Diavolos. Kenna knows he could kill her with his bare hands, if he really wanted to, and knows there is no logical reason for him not to be escorted upstairs with Luther and Zenobia, and yet…and yet, she finds herself wanting a minute, just a minute, alone with him. She tries to tell herself it’s because of all of the Nevrakis family members she’s met, he’s thus far given her the best first impression, that it has nothing to do at all with this instant attraction she feels towards him.
Kenna points out that she has her sword, if she really needs it, and Jackson and Val eventually head upstairs, albeit begrudgingly, Zenobia complaining about the state of her hair as they leave, and Luther giving Kenna a calculating look.
“So, you got me alone. Now what?” Diavolos smirks, leaning against the dungeon wall.
Kenna approaches him, gratified to catch him staring at her again.
“We need to work together,” she begins, watching the muscles flex under his shirtsleeves as he crosses his arms.
“We?”
“Stormholt and Abanthus,” she clarifies, taking another step toward him.
“Isn’t that why you’re hosting this dinner?” Diavolos asks.
“Yes. But you seem the most likely to…” she trails off, searching for the right words.
“Listen? Not murder people just for entertainment? Not be a typical black-hearted Nevrakis?”
Kenna tries to stay focused on being strategic, reminds herself of everything at stake during this dinner, but she’s close enough now that she can see his chest rise and fall with his breathing, can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it’s making it hard to concentrate. What has she gotten herself into?
“Something like that,” she answers in a low voice.
Diavolos’ eyes flicker down to her lips briefly, and he pushes away from the wall, bringing Kenna into direct contact with him.
“And that’s the only reason you wanted to speak to me alone?” Diavolos asks, leaning down to speak directly into her ear.
She can’t even think of an answer, she’s so focused on and almost dizzy with the feel of his breath against her neck, his chest pressed against hers. One of his hands has crept up to rest lightly on her hip. Kenna steps back, and his grip tightens slightly.
Hells…
She stares at him briefly, and before she can talk herself out of it, fists her hands in his shirt and pulls him into her, pressing her mouth against his.
There’s half a second where he seems surprised, and then he’s kissing her back, his lips hot and insistent, his tongue darting into her mouth, his free hand coming up to tangle in her hair.
Kenna swallows back a moan as she stands on her tiptoes, sliding her arms around Diavolos’ neck.
This is a bad, bad idea. She can feel the regret coming from a mile away, not regret about kissing him, no, but regret that she’s not sure she’s going to be able to stop wanting to kiss him now.
Diavolos bites her lower lip, and she can feel him smiling against her mouth. Kenna pulls back, albeit reluctantly.
Of course he had to be a good kisser.
Diavolos leans in, stealing another quick kiss before he releases her. It does something funny to Kenna’s heart, that quick little kiss, like he wasn’t quite ready to let her go either, and it makes her smile.
“Well,” Diavolos says, another self-assured grin spreading across his face. “I’d say that was some…truly excellent strategizing.”
Kenna laughs. “Some of the best, I’d say.”
She blushes as Diavolos raises an eyebrow at her and says, “That was nowhere near my best.”
The retort on the tip of her tongue is interrupted by Val shouting down the stairs, “Kenna! If Diavolos has strangled you, I’m giving myself permission to stab Luther!”
Kenna chokes back a laugh. “No stabbing, Val! I’m fine!”
“That’s a violent friend you have there,” Diavolos says as they ascend the stairs.
She can’t tell if it’s admiration or a tiny bit of fear in his voice. Kenna grins at him. “Yes. You’d do best to remember that, lest you get any funny ideas about trying to murder me.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Then I’d have no one to have more excellent strategizing sessions with.”
“I…you…” Kenna just scowls at him as they come to the top of the stairs. Diavolos laughs, offering his arm to her.
“Come, your Majesty. We have a war to win.”