Emma stretched until she felt her vertebrate pop. She rolled over to where her wife should have been, but wasn't surprised by the lack of body heat on the other side of the bed. She kicked off the blankets and basked for a moment in the early morning sunrise. She enjoyed the prickling sensation of warmth cocooning her in languid comfort.

A soft knock announced Regina's entrance; in her arms was a breakfast tray. The oven warmed plate held sunny-side eggs that practically oozed onto the golden toast. A tall glass of milk sat beside the food. Emma preferred orange juice in the morning, but in their household they never drank anything acidic on an empty stomach.

"Breakfast in bed?" Emma licked her lips as she leaned her back against the headboard. "What's the occasion?" Her eyes shot wide in alarm, the lethargic fog of being barely awake dissipated immediately. "Did I forget something, oh fuck, I mean duck! Regina, don't just smirk at me, Christ! Shit!"

Emma clamped her hands over her mouth and averted her gaze. She had cut almost all profanity use since Henry's birth, but sometimes when she stressed, especially when she was freaking out over missed anniversaries she found herself swearing up a storm as a coping mechanism.

"No, of course not, darling." Regina smoothed a hand along Emma's thigh and glided down and over her knees. She set the other woman's legs straight so she could place down the tray. "I enjoy cherishing my wife."

Emma blushed; embarrassed that Regina's doting could always dust her features with blushed pleasure. "You sure know how to spoil a girl."

"Always." Regina carded her fingertips through the thick mess of curls and smiled at Emma relished under her attention. It pleased her whenever Emma leaned into her touch. "I'm just going to wake up our son and get him started on his meal."

Emma had long learnt not to bargain with Regina's austere regiment. It didn't matter that it was the weekend; Henry should already be downstairs, dressed and ready for breakfast. The Mills' household had a particular time for sleep and for relaxation.

Emma could already hear the taps in the hallway bathroom running which meant that Henry had risen on time.

"Alright." Emma answered conversationally as she carefully lifted her toast. She leaned over the tray and tried her best to make sure that none of the crumbs would skitter onto their linens. Though to be perfectly honest, no matter how cautiously she ate, Regina would still change their bed sheets.

…..

…..

Regina could still recall with vivid clarity Cora's first genuinely pleased smile.

She was 7 years old and had wandered into her mother's private study. It was a place no one was ever allowed in, but she was, because her mother loved her.

The flawless mirror encased in the bookshelves seemed to have lost a bit of its width. Regina crept up to the vanity and curiously pushed her fingers into the gap between the mirror and shelves. As she tugged, the mirror glided back to reveal a sparse room. The floors covered only in cheap black linoleum.

The rest of the room was of no importance to her because at the middle of the area, strapped to a chair was a girl in her early teens. Her limbs were bounded by leather buckles. The restraints tight enough to cause an ugly purple bruising to the flesh it held. The most noticeable blemish was the claw like handprint that marked the unconscious girl's neck. With trembling fingers Regina had reach out and pressed onto the splotchy colours, almost certain that it had to be make-up, just part of an elaborate play.

The girl's eyes popped open in fright, but her panicky grunts were silenced by the choker forced into her mouth.

Instinctively Regina knew that this was no game, but a dire secret that no one should have pried into. If her mother found her here she would surely be punished for her own good.

She gripped her small hand over the already bruised jugular, squeezed desperately to silence the girl's growing struggles. When one hand wasn't enough she brought up the other. Exasperated droplets of tears rolled down her cheeks to match the teen's terrified tears. She had never in her life witnessed someone sobbing so hard.

It was disgusting how the tears and mucus pitifully dribbled into a sticky mess. The weeping teen wouldn't stop struggling and Regina's clammy hands shook too much to strangle. Regina shot out her hand to pinch close the girl's nostrils and managed to force them into an unconscious state. The restraints were enough to keep the captured victim stationary, but Regina's dismayed revulsion overcame her fear of her mother and made her stop before she caused the girl to die by asphyxiation.

When she stumbled away terrified, she darted back towards the mirror door only to find a delighted Cora. She had expected her mother to be furious, to discipline her, to hit her. She had never expected a bright and pride filled smile to creak across her mother's taunt lips.

"I saw what you did, dear." Cora's voice was silky and dark as she brought her hand down to rest on top of Regina's head. "Well done."

Regina had shuddered for once in her life she wanted to be punished. Even though she felt like she truly deserved it, she could only revel under her mother's pleased attention.

Cora in her usual manner seemed to resent Regina. Much in the manner that Henry's family clearly resented Cora. They saw her as the fortunate whore that married rich when she had become pregnant. Cora had explained time and time again how it would have been better if Regina was born male, then even if Henry were to die, the family would be forced to house them within the mansion.

Cora's pleasure had never been so genuinely bestowed upon Regina. She could only hopefully grin back, pleased to witness proof of her mother's love.

"You really are mine." Cora cooed in an astonishingly sweet tone as she bent to press a kiss onto the top of Regina's head. "Perhaps a daughter was better than a son."

…...

Her song bird cowered away from her hands as she changed the food and water trays. The lovely little thing that used to sing and chirp such ecstatic songs for her shrank back into the corner of its cage. It didn't make a single sound until Regina allowed her fingertips to stroke down its quivering back.

As her supposedly calming motions continued, the bird eventually broke into a shrill, warning chirp. It was repetitive and obnoxious in her usually quiet room. Why didn't her pet like her anymore? Could it sense that her hands had aided her mother's crimes? That she had savoured the time she had spent with her parent? That she stood feebly by as she watched luscious blood drain from the girl's neck?

The colour had been far too vibrant as it slurped out of the wound. Regina had inquisitively swished her hand into the collection basin of ruby liquid. The heat and life the fluids contained infused through the pores of her skin and made her shiver. She had entertained the thought that the thick richness would never cease flowing.

The girl's identity was revealed to be a daughter of a maid. During the first week of Cora and Regina's arrival to the mansion the maid had been abusive and curt. The girl's mother was haughty thing and held the same contempt towards Cora and Regina that the head mistress actively cultivated among the staff.

'Never take the life of those in your immediate circle. Punishment doled out to those they love allows you the pleasure of their dismal heartbreak. Death is a far too kind fate for those that trespass against us.'

Regina couldn't contain the vindictive and righteous ire towards her pet's rejection.

What would it be like to maim such an animal? To hold its wing out as its pupils dilated in fear and its chest pumped its last gasping breaths. What would it be like to grind each of its wings between her forefingers? To hear the delicate bones splinter and then nonchalantly break the other? Why not just crush the damn squawking thing in both her hands straightaway?

That would teach it to cull her approach, to resent the time she had been willing to gift.

Regina ignored the blood that seeped from the cut on her hand when her pet's beak pierced through her skin. She watched in enraptured amusement as its petite body crunched into itself. Its life drained out of its bright eyes as she carelessly dropped it to the bottom of the cage. She sat as a spectator to the creature that had rebuffed her touch, giggled as it gurgled and choked on its own blood.

Cora had seen the careless display Regina had left for the entire world to see and beaten her to an inch of her life. Her mother had broken her collar bone and punished her until she thought that she might die in the same manner as her pet.

Regina never again allowed a body to remain exposed to the people around her.

…

Cora was especially fond of taking a human's heart and clenching it in her hands, chuckling as the organ oozed out between her fingers and leached under her nails.

Her mother taught her to drain the messy spoiling copper liquid. To bleed out their victims while still keeping their dimming life. She taught her how to peel the muscles and tendons from bone. It took years for Regina to attain the dexterity necessarily for the dismemberment. Years of practice to complete the task as swiftly and efficiently as Cora. She was motivated to achieve such skills for it was only through this was she awarded praise and attention.

The fed the flesh to the strays that wondered into their lands. If there was too much to keep for the passing animals, they would kindly send packages of meat to the closes pound.

The bones were grinded and used as fertilizer for their garden. Silvery grey dust sprinkled onto the soil that nursed burgeoning flowers. Cora always kept the skulls of her victims; she enjoyed lining them up against the back wall, and loved the thrill of seeing another added to her growing collection.

She was taught the different ligaments and sometimes they would peel away the top layer of the epidermis. They would watch their victim's muscles and bones work inevitably against the harnesses that kept their prey stationary. She familiarized herself with each tendon, sinew and cell of the human body and found elegant ways to induce pain.

It was a game to see how much agony one could inflict before their toys lost consciousness. Their victim's brain would shut down due to the overload. It was the body's mechanism to preserve its wellbeing and ironically when their prey fainted it meant their death was also eminent.

After the procedure they would scrub clean in the showers Cora had installed herself.

The entire hidden chamber had been built by Cora's hand. Cora's father had been an architect and a social nobody, Cora had gone to school to pursue a similar degree, but the faculty had refused her on the basis of her sex. It was a different time and Cora had stubbornly learnt all that she could from her father and taught herself the rest. She was never considered good enough; her craftsmanship wasn't noted by wealthier customers due to her humble origins and sex. Cora felt that her expertise belonged in higher standings than the common folk she and her father diligently served.

Mother and daughter would rinse their bodies with a disposable loofah to scrape off all trace of gore and blood. When their skin was itching under the blistering streams of water they would comb through their hair with shampoo and rinse away the remaining human residue with heavy cleaner. Only when they had conditioned their tresses, smoothed their maltreated skin with expensive lotions and perfected their appearance would they exit their little secret.

…

Cora became more reclusive, less willing to don her mask and venture into the social array. There was no reason for her to indulge in the aristocratic society now that she had company at home. She had a darling girl that lived by her teachings. Cora had always been restrictive with Regina, but it was incomparable to the control Cora instilled once she had Regina's participation.

Cora dominated Regina's mores on those evening trips into the city. Mother a daughter bonding over the sacrifice of a life.

Regina both loved and strained away from the suffocating attention. The more Cora stiflingly coiled around Regina's activities the more she felt spoiled and loved.

…..

Mother and daughter were a plague on the land until Regina met Daniel and something sutured within her fractured psyche. He provided a delusional kind of saccharine gentleness that she could never understand and felt too depraved to own.

Eventually she began to pull away from her mother and Cora was none too pleased. Regina was Cora's. They were all they had and the only allegiance worth sharing. At least that was what Cora saw in her daughter. Regina was hers.

But fledgling love was equal measures passionate and reckless, the young lover's discussed of eloping, but Cora caught wind. Regina's mother did little to hinder them. She offered Regina a passive glance and an embrace goodbye.

Regina had sprinted all the way to where she was supposed to meet Daniel, but he was missing. Regina kept vigil by the meeting spot for the entire night, but Daniel never appeared. She later received a letter with his handwriting that spoke of his reluctance to commit and whilst he was apologetic for his disappearance he found himself unable to entertain their 'meaningless' relationship.

For years she held the belief that it was her mother's doing, but Cora had been nothing but supportive throughout the whole ordeal. It shamed Regina to consider her mother a suspect, that Cora would do such a thing towards family. How could she question the one loving figure in her life? Someone that had cultivated and accepted her deviated desires?

…..

Dates with special occasions were meaningless in their lives. They only kept with them only to keep with society's odd idiosyncratic expectations. Birthdays were just like any other day and required no extra attention. It would be fate that Regina found it on her 25th birthday. She had been caring for the assortment of skulls.

She found one particular cranium shattered in both the back and front. The entire parietal and occipital bones were crushed and gone which was very unusual since Cora prized her assembly of skeletal heads. The gaping hole was a sign of a violent and impassioned want to hurt. Cora was often enthused by the need to wreck her fury onto their prey, but never with such frenzied emotions. The skull's nasal cavity was completely caved-in and its mandible was missing, the entire row of teeth connected to the maxilla had been plucked out pre-death with evident damage of struggle.

It took Regina hours to find the mandible. It had lain intact and forgotten within a crack in a panel. She had made an impression of the bottom jaw and through her mother's networking managed to dig up Daniel's dental information.

It was a match.

…

The last time she had ever spoken to Cora was when she had strapped her mother into the chair. Her mother had lain prone in the same position as their countless victims. Cora had flavoured those individuals that have strived and achieved in their life. She took it as a personal offense for those people to grow and become better and beyond her. She resented the world and needed to harm those that wronged her.

Everything was mechanical; from the drugging of her parent to the strapping of the buckles. Her hands were tools, weapons that knew their duty to hurt. She would not torture today, she would not be the one to administer Cora's due punishment.

Regina hesitated as she brought the knife up to Cora's throat. The shine of her favoured tool shimmered under the bright overhead lights. She knew what to do; the trough was ready for blood. And even as the sharpened edge nicked into the papery skin of her mother's neck she couldn't completely go through with it. She wavered over the slaughter of her parent; she would be completely alone in the world as her mother had been in the beginning. Would she go and seek out company as her mother had done? Marry into a source of income and stability just to further her addiction?

Cora had leered with stark disappointment in her eyes. "You can't be weak, Regina, that's not how I raised you."

"We're repulsive; you've created a monster to follow in your ghastly crimes." Regina paused; her hands trembled as she held up the hunting knife.

There was no doubt that she was going to carry through with this. When the results had returned positive she knew that she would be the one to end her mother's life. It wasn't for some greater good of protecting the populace. She only wanted to settle the seething fiend that demanded vengeance. The monster that Cora had saw and then nurtured in their years of carnage together.

"Why, mother, why did you kill?"

Cora was tranquil in her last moments; she had known her end the moment she felt unconsciousness lick at her mind. She had just finished her evening tea when she realized that Regina had uncovered her deed and was about to exact retribution for the slight.

Cora could've gotten rid of Daniel's skull, but she wanted to be able to always look at the fissured cranium. To know that she had another victory, that she was the one that owned Regina.

"Because there was always resentment in me, a divine evil that I couldn't control, it needed to collide out into the world and punish. I stopped whilst I was pregnant with you, but I had to continue after you were born. So many little things just infuriate me and it drew out the absolute worst. It made me irrational and hazardously cruel. To give into blind rage is what will kill you, my love. It's why I'm here now. I couldn't lose you to a boy that wanted only to fuck you. Anyways," Cora smirked, her ruby lips splitting open into a wide smile. "Somewhere along the way I just thought how it was such a waste to let their deaths be in vain and I started … experimenting…. You understand… One's ability to withstand pain is a truly remarkable thing to witness, don't tell me it doesn't thrill you."

"Why couldn't you stay clean for me?" Regina's voice was hoarse as she begun to silently sob.

"I killed others because I cared far too much whether or not I would harm you." Cora smiled again, knowing that the conversation was coming to a close. In her death she would be the only family member Regina would kill. In a way she would always own her daughter. "Remember that I did it because I love you."

"Goodbye, mother." Regina griped her fingers around Cora's throat lightly and brushed her digits over the skin.

The slice from her knife was too deep; the blade caught in the vertebrate of Cora's neck. It forced Regina to use an extensive amount of force to yank the metal clean through.

She still has a scar from where the knife nicked into her hand.

She sometimes looked at it in bittersweet fondness and thought of her mother's death.

…..

…..

Emma's parents had once teased Regina on being the type that struggled to share their spouse.

A family of two was what Regina was comfortable with. She was settled on only Emma's companionship for the rest of their lives.

Emma on the other hand wanted a family of her own; she had grown up in a household with three other siblings. She had been the eldest and practically raised her siblings alongside her rather absentminded, but caring father and doting mother.

…

For the first five years of their marriage Emma restrained from bringing up the topic that put Regina on edge, but in the end Regina only wanted to provide whatever would bring her wife happiness so she consented to a family of three.

For the longest time she refused to be the one to carry their child. Unfortunately, Emma had been unable to conceive due to her teenage stint of unhealthy indulgences and subsequent abortion. Emma had been in high school and did not want to follow in her parent's footsteps and marry the first teenager that caught her fancy. At least her parents were truly in love while she had only wanted to understand the fuss everyone was making over boys.

Every time a pregnancy wouldn't take, her wife would curl away in self-distain. Regina felt very little for the world, but for Emma she found herself experiencing far too much. Anyone that caused anguish to her wife necessitated a swift verdict of punishment. Regina abhorred watching Emma shrivel up into depression that she had in part created so she agreed that they would take turns.

She had requested that Emma's egg be used since she knew herself housed tainted genes. Unfortunately Emma managed to convince her otherwise. Her first try resulted in a miraculous success.

Her anxiety mounted over the course of the next nine months. She fretted over the likelihood of her offspring being just as demented. That the evil within would seep into the next generation. The part of her intent on using slaughter to appease her own demons would be transferred into the fetus.

Would her child be as deranged as she and her own mother? Would the spilt blood of their victims cause their heart to quicken in delight? Would the lifeless and glassy eyes of the morsels that they dismember become a vision of loveliness?

It had been no small relief when the first sonogram showed a boy growing within her instead of a girl. She would have had to rid the world of another Mills' daughter.

Logic and kindness dictated that she rid the life that festered inside of her, but Emma was so elated that the pregnancy kept. Regina was unable to withhold motherhood from Emma. Regina kept her wife's happiness in mind as she allowed the fetus to drain her livelihood like a parasite.

After Henry's birth she had been rather disjointed from the need to include herself in his life, always apprehensive that she would blacken and corrupt his innocent soul. She knew how to play the caring mother. She only needed to mimic the act Cora displayed when there were others present.

She only loved Henry in an obligated sense since he brought Emma joy.

Though not every emotion was out of duty, there were things that Regina liked about her son. In the way that his smiled managed to mimic Emma's. How incredibly clever and determined he was. How he eventually grew out of his round dimpled cheeks, it made her realize that her family was progressing and no harm had befallen them. He was her child and while she knew that she would never allow him to become remotely like her, she entertained the idea that she wasn't as alone in the mental imbalance.

There were times when diminutive Henry could be vengeful and ferocious. There were signs that he could be disturbed. He had the capacity to be vicious if cultured by Regina alone. Thankfully, Emma was the bright center of their family. Her attention and lively, but practical approach eventually caused the aggressive tendencies Henry displayed as a toddler to gradually dissipate.

During his early childhood, Regina sang him lullabies before bed. Henry would sometimes glance up with his precocious and trusting eyes and she knew that he suspected something was off. That she didn't quite function like everyone else, that she was the cause of his own dissonance with normality.

It nauseated her to realize that maybe her own child would betray her to Emma and then she would lose her entire family. She anguished over the possibility that Henry could be turned into something just as mad as her, just as broken.

Regina sometimes expected to wake tied to a chair about to get her neck split open. She took extra precautions to keep Henry far from her nighttime activities. He was a sweet child when he was on his best behaviour and through Emma's guidance continued to be healthy and ordinary.

Regina knew better, she knew that in her son was the aptitude for violence and a capability to be vindictive to the point of evil.

…...

Regina has set up her chambers of operation in the bottom of her father's mausoleum. It was morbid, but a gorgeous haven. In this crypt she is able to drop the façade of normalcy. She housed all the trophies she kept from her prey within this tomb. She had no want to muddle her granite cavern with clunky and decaying skulls, but instead decided on treasured emblems of her choosing.

It could be a broach, a ring or a button and she kept each separate item in the minute drawers she had lining every inch of her concrete walls. She would take whatever caught her fancy and palm her trinket. She would bring a scented handkerchief to her nose. Settle in for an evening where she relived the memories of her victim's delicate, shuddering last breaths or their ear piercing screams for mercy.

All delectable souvenirs of her encounter with death. The fatalities of her game paid the expenses needed to be ferried through Acheron by Charon. Her victims permitted her to linger near the beauty that was the very depth of darkness. The endless abyss that waited all that struggled on this Earth, the only place she found solace for her evils.

…...

Regina humoured an aggravating game of endurance to ensure her deeds remained hidden. She had to if she wished to remain indiscernible from their neighbours.

Emma must never find out about her less than acceptable pastime and gain the foolish notion to leave.

It was hard to ascertain when her discipline would vanish and necessitate a death. As the time of need drew near she could become very dangerous to those she cared for. She has never lashed out at Emma and only once had Henry witnessed her loss of composure whilst dealing with a particularly dim subordinate. The closer she got to succumbing to the tenacious pleasure of the hunt, the more unhinged she became.

But because she loves Emma and her child, she must continue this pretence.

…...

The front door clicked open and Regina felt herself smiling around her glass of bourbon and cider. "Welcome home, dear."

Emma glided into the living room and bent to press a kiss against Regina's mouth. "Mmmm, you've got a cinnamon on your lips." She frowned a little and plucked the slice of apple hung on the rim of the tumbler. "Are you heading out of town this weekend?"

"Have I become so predictable?" Regina's tone carried a hint of apology. "It's an unavoidable business trip."

"I know." Emma waved her hand in the air as if to push away Regina's encroaching departure. "I can still miss you, can't I?"

"Of course, as you should." Regina lifted a lid from a mug that sat on the coffee table by her lounge chair. "I've made your favourite."

"Yeeesss, thank you," Emma replied enthusiastically as she tugged off her thick scarf and winter coat. "Oh you even put in some hand whipped cream!"

Regina accommodatingly held up a cinnamon stick that sat on the same tray. Emma used the spice to gleefully swirl the thick cream into the steaming drink. She carefully pushed her curls behind her ears and with both of her chilled hands brought the mug up towards her nose and inhaled deeply.

"Gina," she purred in appreciation, "you're letting me have Tuaca and cider on a school night? What if I am too sluggish to drive Henry to class?"

"I trust you can ensure his punctuality." Regina knew that while Emma would jest. She also understood that tardiness was unacceptable. Henry's perfect attendance was not in jeopardy because of tonight's indulgence.

"Scooch over."

"Darling, it's an armchair meant for one."

"Well good thing we're married because I'm going to call up some two have become one; marriage nonsense." Emma quipped as she placed her drink onto the side table and settled into Regina's open arms. She shifted until she wasn't on Regina's lap, but in the space between her legs and stroked her fingertips over the indention on the amused lips. "How long do you think you'll be gone this time?"

Regina placed her glass next to the half emptied mug and wrapped her arms around Emma, soothing her hands along Emma's back to chase away the remaining cold. "Just till Monday night, if I could postpone it, you know I would."

"That's almost four days, half a week without you?" Emma clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I better make my goodbye memorable." With that she moved to claim the other woman's sweetened lips.

…

Whenever Regina had to leave for a trip, her touch began far too delicately until it increased seemly out of her control. Her grip became tighter and her bites left deep marks that remained for the days Regina was out of town.

It's the tiny changes that completed the alteration.

Regina's eyes lit in a terrifying kind of hunger that had once frightened Emma.

When they had first slept together Emma recalled when she would sleepily open her eyes only to find obsidian pupils harden as any animals staring right back. She found out soon that sleep was a fickle creature that often eluded Regina.

As departure neared, the purposeful movements of a politician gave way to something barely contained.

Emma saw the way Regina closed her eyes in meditation, physically stopping a motion and mentally reigning herself in before continuing.

"It's okay, I know, I know." Emma mumbled back against the other woman's lips as she tangled her fingers into Regina's short, tidy tresses and dragged her closer. "I'll miss you too, it's okay."

Regina hooked her fingers onto the waistline of Emma's panties and raked her fingernails down the creamy skin and tightening muscles. When her partner arched her hips up into Regina's demanding touch she lost contact to kiss-bruised lips and released an impatient growl. She had to remind herself of control, of being gentle and to never ever draw blood. Never permit the glistening, rushing, rivets to be drawn out of Emma's body.

Emma's hands slid over Regina's shoulders and worked the blouse off. She skimmed her fingertips over the skin exposed to her, trailed her caress onto the curve of Regina's ass. She took a moment to enjoy tugging Regina closer before letting the pads of her hand follow over the protrusion of Regina's hip bone and then to the front of the skirt. She flicked the clasps opened and watched hungrily as Regina angled back onto her knees and shimmied out of the tight constricting piece to reveal the top of her lacy stockings, held up by a garter belt, but sans any kind of underwear.

"Fu-" Emma clamped her mouth shut at the disproval she felt in Regina's arched eyebrow and instead surged forward to press her lips against the divot of Regina's navel. She let her tongue slide out against the velvet skin as she drifted her hands onto Regina's hip bones. She pushed closer, the springs in the mattress made Regina shift and lean back. Emma eagerly crawled closer; she hooked her arms underneath Regina's thighs. She lavished her tongue from perineum to clit in long deliberate strokes. She grinned as she felt Regina's fingers dig into her shoulders and then slide up into her hair before yanking her forward. Emma smoothed her thumb over the slick folds and then pressed into the exposed clitoris; she rolled her digit in a steady rhythm as she delved her tongue deeper into Regina's clenching walls.

Regina gasped and fell onto her back; she lolled her head onto the edge of the bed whilst she tried, unsuccessfully, to rock her hips in tandem. Emma knew her too well and after waiting all afternoon for her wife to return home Regina was already near the point coming.

She could stall the hours of needing fresh blood with Emma's skin and touch alone, but she hadn't expected to be the first to lose her composure. She had wanted to own Emma, to have her on her front, on her knees and hands; so Emma wouldn't be able to see the blood lust that smolders in her eyes. She would clasp her hand lightly around Emma's throat as she pistoled her fingers in and out of her wife. She would curl her body around and on top, to protect and claim.

This was hers, this was her family and no one else will ever harm it. She wouldn't tolerate anyone and especially not herself to destroy what they had.

She would drape against Emma's taunt, sweat slicked back, and draw deep breaths from the crook of Emma's neck. The golden mane would cloak her ravenous gaze as she fucked and loved her wife.

"Emma!" Regina hissed as three fingers drove into her and she rose up to meet the attention. The rough almost painful friction was hardly accounted for as she gushed onto Emma's digits. It coated Emma's fingers and dripped down her wrist and onto the bed sheets.

Regina delighted when Emma was particularly carnal with her desires. It allowed her to pretend that her own needs were less depraved. She felt more human when taken with an ounce of pain mixed into the experience. "More."

Emma hummed in acquiescence and added a fourth finger, curled them towards herself and rubbed against the ribbed inner walls. She prevented Regina from coming; she wanted to keep her lover at the verge of unraveling. She built an unsteady rhythm with her hands, twisted her wrist and crossed her index and middle finger to increase the pressure. After an exquisite and torturous while, Emma leaned her cheek into Regina's trembling thigh. She could feel that any more would just be cruel so she sped up her pace instead of pausing and switching maneuvers whenever Regina's bucking got too excited.

Regina had been on the cusp since they had fallen into their bed and the sudden focused attention had her dropping her hands onto the linens below her, scraping her nails deep into the sheets. She imagined tearing into Emma's skin.

She would never actually draw blood from her wife, it was far too dangerous, but what was the harm in pretending? She allowed herself that fantasy for the extra push into oblivion. Regina cried out as she thrashed into a climax, Emma's hands continued their motion, never slowed even as the muscles clenched and made her thrusts hard to maintain.

This was the kind of fucking that Regina loved and it was always a special treat when Emma was willing to provide it. There were tears at the corner of Regina's eyes as she squeezed them shut, her hips stilled in their undulations as her body grew taunt. The pent up energy of the week succumbed to physical sensations that she would only ever allow Emma to provide. She crumbled into a quivering chaos of euphoria.

Emma freed her hand and then rubbed them evenly over Regina's turgid and painfully sensitive nipples. She waited for Regina's heart to settle, but was unable to stop from touching, caressing, loving. When they were glistening with cum, Emma leaned up to lap at where she had painted; she took the essence and flavouring as a delicacy.

She moved forward to straddle and pressed herself into Regina's thigh. Regina habitually bent and angled her knee, loved it as Emma's eyes closed involuntarily in pleasure. Regina wrapped her fingers around the other woman's neck and guided her down for a kiss. She enjoyed the taste of herself on Emma's tongue. Her other hand gripped possessively onto Emma's hip, keeping her in place.

Emma's touch could sustain her, could add hours to when a lamb was needed for slaughter.

…

When they had first gotten together Regina would disappear for months on end to settle the beast that rattled and demanded. Emma was her ideal prey; she had the family Regina had once dreamed and concocted as a child.

The Charming's were never particularly rich, but they were content and there was a certain love between Mary Margaret and David that reminded Regina of what she and Daniel should have had. She enjoyed sitting with Mary Margaret and listening to the ups and downs of being teenage parents. How Emma was possibly the most stubborn of all their children. Their family had countless photos and self-made videos that crowded the shelves of the homey abode. Things that Cora had always seen as tacky were treasured in this house, macaroni picture frames and hand print turkeys cluttered up the window sills.

Emma had been quite rebellious in her teens and there were rather embarrassing photographs to prove it. Emma had piercings and dyed hair in shades that clashed with every single piece of fabric she tacked onto her body. Mary Margaret had shown one family photo to Regina that had 16 year old Emma perched at the end of the suede brown photo room sofa. Everyone was laughing because David had just told a hilarious joke. Even sullen Emma only managed to keep her eyebrows furrowed since her lips were curled into a reluctant smile. David and Mary Margaret had brought that particular photo out as a coveted possession. Once Emma had grown out of her rebellious phase she actively destroyed all evidence of her mortifying teenage years.

Emma was cherished; she had gone the wrong path, but righted herself and even when she had been the most obnoxious teenager she had always been there for her siblings. Emma was someone that seemed so impossibly noble it made Regina want her to house darker thoughts. That some evil was hidden behind those beguiling hazel eyes. That maybe If Emma was as internally twisted as she was, it would at least give reason to Regina's reluctance to kill.

No mattered how much she desired it, Emma was as normal as everyone else. There was no logical explanation of why Regina wanted to create something sustainable between them. It was undeniable that murderous tendencies had been breed out of Emma over the thousands of years of social evolution.

…...

Regina shifted out of the duvet and moved to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing. She folded them neatly and arranged everything onto the vanity. Regina returned to the edge of the mattress and leaned against the headboard. She would have to leave, but not before carding her fingers through the tangled blonde curls.

She didn't want Emma to be like her at all.

She wanted to preserve the goodness, the pearl whiteness that reflected the family's virtues.

She mocked scratched her fingers down to cradle around Emma's neck.

If Regina squeezed would Emma's eyes jolt open in alarm? Would there be disbelief within her frightened eyes? Would her wife finally realize she had harboured a monster within their family?

Regina could almost taste it, fear and acceptance, the sickly sweet taste of fright. She could imagine Emma's pulse weakening against her chokehold, could clearly envision how she would ruin yet another person that loved her.

Regina watched as Emma slumbered on, drawing one serene breath after another

Regina knew better than to dally within such an indulgent daydream. She had to remember to do all she could do to prevent the scenario from becoming reality; to slaughter every last wretched being in this world to protect her family from her own ire.

Emma must never recognize the danger that flourished within the walls of their home.

Regina ghosted her thumb over the cartilage at the centre of Emma's throat. The beast howled within her, craving desperately for bloodshed. It was time to go; she wouldn't be able to restrain herself for much longer.

Regina pecked her sleeping partner's lips once more. She uttered in a reverent, pleading tone, just in case Emma ever found out her crimes, perhaps she would understand that Regina did all this for only one reason.

"I do it, because I love you."