Jealousy: Strong emotion. The word typically refers to the negative thoughts and feelings of insecurity, fear, anger and anxiety over an anticipated loss of something of great personal value, particularly in reference to a human connection.

She was doing it again.

She was doing it again and he hated her for it. He hated her for the lustful looks men sent her, he hated her for the way men of every and all standings were drawn to her like bees to honey, he hated her for the way her swaying hips left him in a daze as he watched her dance. He hated her for the fact that two cups of strong wine weren't enough to placate the beast clawing at his gut as he watched men with less than noble intentions approach her. He wanted to hate her so much but he couldn't.

At first, he hadn't paid her any more mind than a fleeting glance. After all, as a diplomatic envoy from her land, she was more Sinbad and Jafar's problem than she was his. To be frank, he had been more interested in keeping an eye on her boisterous blond teammate and the enigmatic grey-haired man with the mask to pay her any special attention. Despite the peculiar pink hair and the unusual green eyes, she was just another woman among the many that resided in Sindria. Nothing that would gain the attention of someone like him. In his eyes, she was just another female; an important female sent to discuss a possible alliance, but a female nonetheless.

He couldn't really remember when or why he had started seeing her in a new light. Perhaps it was the way she smiled at him every time she passed by him despite his coldness. Perhaps it was when he happened upon one of her training sessions with her teammate and saw her shatter the ground with a single punch. She had been sweaty and flushed and disheveled and he wouldn't lie by saying that he hadn't found her attractive. Or perhaps it was when she cracked his jaw during a sparring match only to have her heal it afterwards, her soft hands gently holding his bruised chin. It didn't really matter. The fleeting glances soon became nods of acknowledgment and the nods quickly became polite greetings, always accompanied by her smiles. The greetings became short conversations-he wasn't a talkative person by nature and though she tended to get carried away some times, she was nowhere near as loud as her uproarious blue-eyed friend-and soon he found himself accepting her sparring invitations with the tiniest spark of excitement coming alive at the pit of his stomach.

And here he was now, standing at the back, watching her dance to her heart's content. He stood beside Sinbad as he always did and the voices of the other Generals filled his surroundings with Sharrkan's voice standing out among the others as he continued bickering with the blonde idiot she had brought along with her from her land. Despite being in the center of attention-the Eight Generals always drew the attention of civilians, Sindrians and non-Sindrians alike-he felt as if he had been plunged in the shadows. Because he could feel it. He could feel the dark entity slowly getting hold of him, feeding the beast clawing at his gut. Jealousy.

He clenched his fist around his cup but immediately loosened it when he heard the unmistakable sound of metal bending under pressure. His expression was as it always was; impassive, serious, unfaltering. But his insides were burning. Burning with unexplainable anger and gut-wrenching jealousy. He hated her for that as well. Because she made him feel things that he wasn't supposed to feel. He had never been a man of emotions. Even during his days in the Colloseum of Reim, he had never allowed his emotions to take over. A warrior couldn't afford to feel and he had been born a warrior through and through. It was the destiny of every member of his tribe. And then she appeared and suddenly it was becoming increasingly difficult not to march over there and rip that bastard that was trying to grab her leg to shreds. His eyes narrowed, the piercing on his lower lip glinting in the light of the fires. Perhaps she had lied to him. Perhaps she was indeed a sorceress; a powerful sorceress hiding under porcelain skin and soft features and scintillating emerald eyes. That would explain how she had managed to reduce him to this mess.

His red eyes roamed her figure, admiring her swaying hips and the smooth skin of her belly as he traveled up to see bracelet-decorated wrists bending gracefully and jade-green eyes alive with mirth as she smiled and twirled along with Yamraiha and Pisti, who were dancing with her. A thin coat of sweat clung to her skin and her cheeks were red from the heat, his sensitive hearing easily picking out her laughter among the sound of the music and the people. No….She was no sorceress. It was another kind of magic she wielded and he had fallen under her spell. And he couldn't escape. He wasn't so sure that he wanted to…..

'Crawl back to your hole you bloody idiot….' he thought as he watched another drunk male trying to get closer to the young woman, who danced away, her twirling figure making it seem as if it was simply the dance that was making her move away and not rejection of the man's advances. Sometimes, it bothered him how good a diplomat she was. It bothered him to no end that she had smiles for everyone, even when she was being annoyed by especially persistent civilians who couldn't take a bloody hint even if it hit them in the face. Oh, how he wanted to crush them in his hands. It would be so easy! Just a flick of his fingers and they would be history.

'Annoying, ignorant fools….' He brought his cup-now sporting a noticeable dent-to his lips once more and let the taste of strong red wine fill his mouth, hoping that it would silence the voice whispering in his head; that darker side that every Fanalis had inside them. It was on very rare occasions that he heard his but he could feel it stirring at the pit of his stomach. Ferocious, angry, possessive…..

It was dangerous, this feeling…..He was slowly becoming dangerous to those damn idiots who didn't know who they were up against. It was primal and instinctive and exciting….He was no longer trying to hide the way his red eyes remained focused on her and Sinbad had picked up on what was going on if the smirk his King was sending him was any indication. Thank the Gods, Sharrkan was far too immersed in his drink and the dancers around him to notice.

His breathing hitched when an obviously intoxicated man had the nerve to grab the unsuspecting woman's forearm and pull her to him. His eyes narrowed even more when, despite the woman's polite attempts at turning him down, the man seemed to only become bolder as he put his arm around her waist. That was the final straw. His pupils slitted dangerously and rational though abandoned him as he threw his no-longer-usable cup to the side, not caring where it landed as his predatory eyes focused on the unlucky bastard who had dared touch her like that. The beast inside him howled in anger as he walked towards them, his cold composedness being a dangerous omen of the calm before storm. And what a terrible storm it would be should it break loose….

His presence was instantly noticed as he approached them, his sensitive ears picking up the woman's polite words of protest-damn diplomacy!- as the drunken man made a move to pull her closer, not even hesitating to make vulgar comments. The scarlet-haired General's eyes flashed dangerously, his composed façade slipping for just a moment as he put his hand on the man's shoulder. It would be so easy to just crush that lame excuse of a man right then and there…Ignoring the voice in his head, he pushed the man away from the pink-haired woman, sending him tumbling quite a few feet away. He heard the man curse and stumble on his feet as he got up.

"H-h-h-heeeyyyy! What d'ya think yeeeer doin'?" said the man, his words coming out slurred and barely understandable. He took a few unsteady steps forward, and had it been any one else in the red-haired General's place, they would have laughed at the man's pathetic attempts at appearing intimidating. However, even in his drunken state, the man had the right mind-or adequate survival instincts-that allowed him to recognize danger when he saw it. And the piercing red eyes looking at him coldly over a strong shoulder promised pain and screamed of danger. The man paled and backed away, tripping over his own feet. He began stuttering incoherent things as he crawled away from the intimidating red-haired male, some of his friends coming to help him to his feet before dragging him away.

The muscular General turned to the woman staring up at him and flashing him a small grateful smile that immediately turned into an expression of shock when he curled his strong fingers around her forearm and started dragging her behind him. He wasn't really sure why he did that. Perhaps rational thought was failing him or perhaps the wine was starting to get to his head. All he knew was that he wanted to take her away from there, away from the eyes watching her hungrily, away from the men approaching her with less than noble intentions in their minds.

He knew that she was still under the influence of shock, not knowing what to say to him and frankly, he didn't know what to say to her either. He led her away from the feast, knowing that he would have to explain later on-Sinbad tended to pick up on things rather easily and there was nothing that any of his Generals would do and he wouldn't know-but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He pulled her through hallway after hallway, making his way through the silent dimly lit palace of Sindria, as far away from the celebration as possible, realizing that he was heading towards his chambers only after they had covered more than half the distance. They were almost outside his door when her felt a soft pull at his hand and he stopped abruptly, glancing over his shoulder to see emerald eyes staring up at him in confusion.

"Masrur….." she said softly. "What happened back there?" she asked, looking so tantalizingly innocent that it left him wondering whether she was doing it on purpose.

He looked down at their joined hands and let hers fall from his grip. He kept his back turned to her and raised his palm to his eyelevel, staring at his fingers before running them through his disheveled red hair. 'What the hell am I doing?' Frankly, he had no idea. The answer seemed so simple and yet so complicated that it was driving him crazy.

"Masrur…" he heard her whisper and he clenched his teeth. 'Don't….Don't say my name….Not like that….' He could hear the beast inside him purr in anticipation, resembling a predator who had just cornered their prey, ready to pounce.

"Please, Masrur." she pleaded and he stiffened when she put her small hand on his shoulder, her touch sending a jolt down his arm. "What's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?" she continued softly as if she was scared of disturbing the silence around them. "Please talk to me. Did I do something to anger you? Because if I did, then I am so sorry-"

His eyes flashed. He turned around and in an instant he had her pressed up against the wall, with his arms on either side of her head and his towering stature trapping her petite frame in between his muscular chest and the wall.

"Why?" he growled lowly. "Why do you keep doing this?" He slammed his clenched fist into the wall near her head, the stone cracking easily under his iron strength, creating a considerable dent. He immediately regretted it when he saw momentary fear flash through her eyes. He gritted his teeth and let his head hang low. 'Now she's scared of me…..' For a moment, he almost thought it was only is mind playing tricks on him when he felt a hand cup his cheek. But then the same hand gently lifted his head and he found himself staring into a pair of shinning emerald eyes. It was unbelievable how innocently seductive she could look without even realizing it. He felt his lips go dry and his tongue instinctively went out to wet them. The moment he saw her eyes follow that particular movement was the moment he snapped.

His large hand cupped her cheek and his lips crushed against hers in a searing kiss. He could almost feel her shock at his bold move and for a second he contemplated pulling back and asking her to forgive him. But then he felt her relax against him and she secured her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. His hands slid down her sides, guiding her legs around his waist before settling on her hips, careful not to hurt her. He was a Fanalis but she was not. Sometimes, he forgot the raw unadulterated behind those gentle hands. She seemed so fragile, so breakable and yet he was sure that she could shove him away if she wanted to. He pulled back slightly.

"Sakura….." he whispered her name and that was all he managed to say before her lips were upon his once more. That was all the encouragement he needed as his lips trailed lower to her neck, the cold steel of the piercing on his lower lip sending pleasant shivers down her spine as it came in contact with her skin. He sucked on her neck and she leaned her head against the wall, moaning his name and making his senses run wild. All rational thought abandoned him as his sensitive nose caught the aroma of sweat mixed with her own unique scent and her addictive taste sent his taste buds buzzing like crazy. He squeezed her thighs making her gasp and he took the chance to slide his tongue inside her warm cavern, tastes of honey and wine flooding his mouth. Dear Solomon, how had he gone so long without tasting her?

He picked her off the wall without breaking the kiss and headed for his door, her legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. He walked inside the room with her still in his arms and shut the door behind him before heading towards his bed while she made quick work of undoing the strings keeping his armor together, the heavy pieces falling to the ground with a loud clang, leaving him with only the white sash wrapped around his waist. The skin of her bare belly rubbed against his own as they moved towards the bed, setting him even more on fire than he already was. He laid her down gently, careful not to cause her any discomfort before refocusing his attention on her neck, his hands going under her back to unlace the knot supporting the bra of her Sindrian outfit and keeping him from claiming as much of her as he could. He momentarily broke the kiss and she got the chance to trace kisses to his jaw. She nibbled sensually on his lower lip before taking his round piercing in her mouth, her tongue starting to play with it. He had never experienced anything as erotic…..

As he continued to head lower, savoring the taste and warmth of her skin, he couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring when the sun would rise to find them tangled between the silk of his bed sheets after a night of passion, though he was sure that his desire for her would burn just as fiercely. He didn't know where this-whatever it was-would take them and frankly, he wasn't ready to face that yet. After all, the fact that she was an ambassador from another land remained and a day would come that she would have to leave; leave Sindria and leave him…But as her moans grew louder, the way his name fell from her lips sent his mind reeling and soon all thoughts of tomorrow were pushed to the darker corner of his being as she dominated all of his senses. He would face tomorrow when it came.

Tonight….Tonight she was all his…

THE END

Phew! This one was updated later than I expected. But to my defense, I really had to update "Prayer in the Wind." Anyway, I hope Masrur isn't that much out of character. I didn't want this to come out lovey-dovey, aiming instead for a more…..primal and physical attraction between Masrur and Sakura, though the end is open to interpretation. Masrur is seen wondering about what these feelings might be but the rest is up to you. I hope you liked it! Your reviews make me happy so please READ AND REVIEW!

Lots of love!