This doesn't feel right....(Yandere primarch gf(?))

Fulgrimia stood alone in the shadows of her lavish chamber, the dim light reflecting off the dark marble floors. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, trembling with a fury that she could barely contain. She had seen Cora take Jared away from her, and the very thought of it made her feel as though her insides were on fire.

"SHE TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME!!!" The thought screamed through her mind like an unstoppable force, but she forced herself to exhale, to calm her breathing. She couldn't let herself unravel now, not in front of anyone. The tightness in her chest, the unease gnawing at her, was growing more intense with every passing second.

Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath shallow and ragged as she tried to focus. But no matter how much she fought it, the overwhelming need to do something surged within her. Her fingers dug into her palms, trying to ground her thoughts, but it was futile. The storm inside of her was relentless, rising higher and higher with each passing moment.

'It's all my sisters' fault. They'll never let me have a moment alone with him, will they?' Fulgrimia's thoughts spiraled, anger seeping into every word. She should have known sooner, should have sensed their interest in him before it had escalated this far. If she had only acted sooner, maybe it wouldn't have come to this. But now… it was too late. She couldn't undo what had happened. She was no longer in control.

Her gaze darkened, a cold fury setting in as she stared down at the intricate floor beneath her, her mind whirling with thoughts of how to make them all pay. But above all, one thought consumed her—Jared.

Her voice was barely a whisper as she muttered to herself, "I will have him back. I will make him mine again… no matter what."

The air in the chamber seemed to grow colder with her resolve.

Fulgrimia's mind raced with the tumult of emotions as she clutched the small bag of photographs, her fingers trembling with a mix of anger and longing. The realization struck her—what if Cora had already made her move, what if she had already stolen Jared's heart? The thought twisted like a knife in her gut, and she felt a fresh wave of possessiveness surge within her.

'We siblings share certain traits. And if we're determined to possess something, we fight until we get it. We may not often fight physically… usually it's with words, accomplishments, or through the lens of our father's favor. But right now, the urge to kill Cora… to remove her from the equation… it's beyond anything I've ever felt.' The frustration clawed at her, urging her to take action, to unleash the storm brewing within her.

She knew they didn't usually see each other much, nor did they harbor any deep hatred. But in this moment, all she could think about was how Cora had dared to take Jared away from her. 'What would Father think if he found out I tried to kill one of my own sisters? It's treason. I can't act on this, not now. Not while I'm still in Father's favor.' Fulgrimia felt the madness welling up inside her, and an eerie, twisted smile spread across her face as she whispered, 'Haha... just give me a reason to kill her. Just give me a reason... then my actions will be justified.'

With trembling hands, she pulled out the worn bag from her desk and opened it slowly, treating its contents with a reverence that bordered on obsession. Inside were photographs of Jared—moments captured from the day he had been conscripted into the ranks until the present. Each image evoked a mix of warmth and yearning, her lips curling into a smile that reflected both affection and a deep-seated need.

'Soon, my dear. Just hold on a little longer. I won't lose you again. We will be together forever. I promise.' As her fingers danced over the images, the thought of Cora's possible influence on Jared flickered in her mind, threatening to shatter her fragile calm. She had to act, but how? The storm inside her was a chaotic mix of rage and determination, but she had to play her cards right.

In that moment, Fulgrimia vowed silently to herself: she would do whatever it took to reclaim what was hers. Cora might have taken Jared for now, but she would not let him slip away so easily. She would find a way to bring him back, and when she did, she would ensure that no one, not even her own sisters, would come between them again.

Fulgrimia's mind churned with the frustration of being surrounded by siblings, each one a potential rival for Jared's attention. The weight of their existence, their presence in her life, felt like an inescapable net closing in on her. Cora, with her cold, calculating nature, was the immediate threat—she had already taken Jared once, and Fulgrimia feared she would do so again, or worse, take him permanently. Then there was Alpharia, whose reckless and impulsive behavior often resulted in disasters that Fulgrimia could not afford to ignore.

But it wasn't just them. Every single one of her sisters posed a threat, in ways Fulgrimia had not fully considered until now. Each of them had their own strengths, their own ways of capturing attention, and none of them were beneath resorting to manipulation or outright schemes to take what they wanted. The thought of facing them all at once, having to compete for something as precious to her as Jared.

'Lioness… that one is a challenge. Her strength is undeniable, and unlike me, she has no intention of sharing what she claims as hers. But that's where she's wrong. Nothing and no one will take him from me. If it comes to it, I'll break her. Rip her apart, piece by piece, until she learns the price of crossing me.

Petra... unpredictable, and that's what makes her dangerous. I saw it in her eyes when she realized she wasn't the only one vying for him. The subtle flicker of frustration, the tightening of her jaw—it all showed. She's not like the others, content to play along or wait her turn. Petra wants him for herself, and I can't let that happen. If I don't keep her in check, she'll take him from me without hesitation.

Alakhai Khan... Unpredictable, with her piercing gaze always drawn toward him. There's an intensity in her focus that I can't ignore. I'll need to keep a close watch on her movements, every subtle shift in her demeanor. She thrives on chaos, and that makes her a threat—not just to me, but to my claim on him.

Freya… that rabid dog nearly tore me to shreds when I took Jared from her. She's driven by fury, raw and unrelenting, like a storm that never calms. But I won't let her rage stand in the way of what's mine.

And then there's Regalia. Stoic on the surface, always claiming she's fine with sharing. But I see through her facade. There's an undercurrent of dissatisfaction in her, quiet but undeniable, like the tension in a bowstring pulled taut. She's a coiled spring, ready to snap—and when she does, it won't be subtle."

Guilliman… that damn nerd isn't even a blip on my radar yet. She's so wrapped up in her books and strategies that she's barely a concern. But I won't ignore her, not completely. Even the most insignificant pieces can turn dangerous if you let them grow unchecked.

Morrigan, though… her constant objections to sharing are starting to get under my skin. She can mask it with her perfect composure, but I see the cracks. She's a ticking time bomb, ready to explode the moment she can't hold it all in anymore. And when she does, it won't be pretty.

Magna… that witch. Her teleportation tricks? I can't let my guard down around her. She can whisk him away before I even blink, slipping through my fingers like smoke. I'll need to be cautious, always watching, waiting for the moment she thinks she has the advantage."

Hathor… now, she's the one I truly need to watch. Clever, calculating, always thinking three steps ahead. There's a sharpness to her that sets her apart from the others—a quiet, deliberate cunning that makes her dangerous."

Aurelia… she's a zealot, through and through. Her devotion to Father is absolute, unwavering—but now, that same fervor has shifted to Jared. It's not admiration; it's obsession, and that makes her dangerous.

She's the kind who will stop at nothing to claim what she believes is hers. Logic won't sway her, and reason won't reach her. Her faith, twisted as it is, drives her every move. If I'm not careful"

Vulkania… for now, she agrees to share him with me. But I don't trust her. Her words say one thing, but her eyes tell a different story. I'll keep my guard up around her; betrayal often comes from those who pretend to be allies.

Cora… damn her. She's already made it clear she won't share Jared with anyone, not even me. Her defiance is infuriating, and she'll regret crossing me. No one stands between me and what I desire without facing the consequences."

Alpharia... I don't know enough about her, but the fact she nearly succeeded in taking Jared away from me tells me everything I need to know. She's not to be underestimated.'

Fulgrimia felt a surge of rage boiling within her chest, her clenched fist slamming into the nearby wall. The impact reverberated through the room, breaking the heavy silence—a physical manifestation of her frustration.

"No... none of them will take him from me. Not again," she muttered, her voice trembling with intensity. "I was first. He's mine, and I won't share him with any of them. I won't let them take him. Not now, not ever."

Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she forced herself to calm down. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but she knew better than to let it cloud her judgment. Her next move had to be deliberate, calculated.

"Cora," she hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing. "She's first on my list. I'll deal with her... and then the others will fall in line."

Her lips curled into a determined sneer as she plotted her course. "Once I've handled the threats, Jared will understand—he'll see how much I want him, how much I need him. And once he's mine, no one will ever take him away. No one."

Fulgrimia's piercing gaze locked onto one of the marines standing at the door. His posture was rigid, his hesitation unmistakable. Her patience, already thin, frayed further.

"Explain," she demanded, her tone sharp and unforgiving.

"My Lady," the marine stammered, bowing his head quickly as if trying to shield himself from her ire, "Lady Hathor requests communication through the Vox."

Fulgrimia clicked her tongue in irritation, her eyes narrowing. "Tsk... She's fast. Understood. I told her I'd be there in ten minutes," she replied, her voice icy as she waved him off with a flick of her hand.

"Yes, my Lady!" The marine snapped to attention, then quickly retreated, eager to escape the oppressive weight of her presence.

Fulgrimia's mind churned as she strode down the corridor, her thoughts circling around Hathor's abrupt summons. What does she want now? Is she going to reprimand me, or is this just another twist in her endless games? Hathor always had something hidden behind her carefully calculated actions.

Her pace quickened, boots striking the floor in steady rhythm as she moved toward the bridge. Crew members she passed along the way offered salutes, but their greetings barely registered. Her focus was fixed ahead, the anticipation tightening her chest.

As she stepped onto the bridge, her eyes immediately found the holographic projection flickering to life—Hathor's face, as inscrutable as ever, stared back at her.

The moment Fulgrimia locked eyes with Hathor's holographic image, her suspicions deepened. Hathor's presence exuded an unsettling calm, her sharp gaze dissecting every detail.

"Greetings, sister. It seems you've handled our guest quite well," Hathor began, her tone calm—almost too calm. She leaned back in her throne, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, her air of smug confidence stoking Fulgrimia's irritation.

Fulgrimia's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she maintained her composure. Her tone was deliberately light, a veil of feigned innocence draped over her words. "Greetings, dear sister. Yes, I've taken care of him. Is there something specific you believe requires an explanation?"

Hathor's smile widened imperceptibly, but her silence in response only heightened the tension between them.

"Don't play dumb, Fulgrimia. You know exactly what I'm talking about," Hathor snapped, her voice carrying a dangerous edge that sliced through the air like a blade.

Fulgrimia tilted her head slightly, a sly smile spreading across her face. Her tone dripped with mock innocence, sweet enough to infuriate. "I'm afraid I don't, dear sister. Care to enlighten me~?"

Hathor's patience visibly frayed, her jaw tightening. "Don't lie to me!" she growled, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits. "What's with the hickey on his neck?"

"Oh, that?" Fulgrimia's smirk widened, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. "It's just a way we greet each other on Chemos~."

Hathor's eyes narrowed, her suspicion clear. "Stop lying. I've never seen you do that before."

Fulgrimia chuckled softly, her smirk turning into a full, mischievous grin. "Oh, I forgot to mention. It's a special greeting for someone I... care for~."

Hathor exhaled sharply, her displeasure barely contained. "Don't ever do that again."

Fulgrimia tilted her head back, her tone playful yet taunting. "I'll try~. He must be there already, right?"

"Yes, he is," Hathor replied, her tone clipped, revealing little emotion.

Fulgrimia's eyes narrowed, her demeanor shifting from playful to coldly calculated. "What are you planning next, Hathor?"

"I..." Hathor hesitated, a faint uncertainty creeping into her voice. "I will send him to Terra."

Fulgrimia stiffened, her blood beginning to boil, though she kept her expression carefully neutral. "Why?" she asked, her voice dangerously low, a warning woven into the single word.

"To ensure that whatever Alpharia injected him with is safe," Hathor answered, her explanation too measured, too rehearsed to sound convincing.

Fulgrimia raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a skeptical smirk. "Is that all?" she asked, her tone dripping with mock amusement.

"I also want to ask Father about him," Hathor continued, her attempt at nonchalance doing little to mask her underlying intent.

Fulgrimia's gaze sharpened, her patience fraying at the edges. "About what, Hathor?"

"About converting him into one of the Astartes ranks," Hathor replied, her tone steady but laced with a hint of doubt. "Normal augmentation might not work for him—he's too old for the standard procedures. But if the Emperor's methods work… then it might be possible."

Fulgrimia's eyes twitched with irritation as she leaned slightly forward. "And after that, Hathor," she asked, her voice a dangerous mix of curiosity and disdain, "where will he be assigned?"

Hathor's smile deepened, her gaze locking with Fulgrimia's. "It depends on whom he chooses," she said, her voice smooth with mock innocence. "After all, it's his free will to decide which of us, out of the 18 sisters, he wishes to serve alongside."

"Hathor, I warn you, this isn't going to work, not for long." Fulgrimia's voice was low, a growl barely contained. Her eyes flashed with the intensity of the words she spat. "You know some of us, right? Curze, for example. She'll kill him before anyone else gets to him if it means she can have him all to herself." She leaned closer, the air between them thick with the unspoken tension.

In the quiet of her mind, Fulgrimia's thoughts turned darker, more possessive. If Jared doesn't choose me, then no one else will have him. The thought echoed in her head, a bitter mantra, fueling the fire of her jealousy and rage. She knew the others, their ruthlessness. But none of them could understand the depth of her desire, the claim she had on him. Jared was hers, and she'd make sure no one, not even her sisters, could take him away.

"Haha, I'm well aware of that, dear sister," Hathor replied with a soothing, almost patronizing tone, her lips curling into a smug smile. "Of course, he'll undergo training first, and we'll leave it to the Emperor to decide which of us is best suited to be with him."

Fulgrimia's eyes narrowed, and her fists clenched at her sides. Her voice, low and lethal, reverberated with the promise of violence. "Fine. If it is the Emperor's will, then I will not protest... But if I find out that you interfere with this, Hathor, I swear—I WILL SLASH YOUR THROAT OFF." Her words dripped with venom, the fury in her tone palpable.

The crew around them stiffened, the air growing thick with the tension. Even the battle-hardened marines shifted uneasily, a deep, uncomfortable silence enveloping the room. Fulgrimia's anger was a force that none of them dared to challenge.

"Yes, yes, I'll keep that in mind." Hathor's tone was dismissive, her smile widening. "So, that's all of it? Feel free to cut off my signal. After all, I have a guest to tend to."

Fulgrimia's stomach twisted in frustration, her grip tightening at her sides. She didn't respond. Instead, she turned sharply, storming off the bridge. Each step felt heavy, her heart thundering in her chest. The mere thought of Jared being with another woman—holding her hand, kissing her—was unbearable, a cruel ache that gnawed at her mind.

But at least I'm the first, Fulgrimia reminded herself, her resolve hardening. I marked him. I kissed him. I was the one who closed that distance between us, not any of them. No one can take that away from me.

Her mind replayed the memory in vivid detail: the softness of his skin beneath her lips, the surprise in his eyes when she bit him, the intoxicating scent of him that lingered in her senses. There had been something... endearing about how he looked at her, almost cute in his innocence. He's perfect for me, she thought, and no one else will take him from me.

But Fulgrimia knew she was not the only one who had set her sights on him. Her sisters—her damned sisters—would try to worm their way in. But she would not allow it. No one would steal him from her. Not now, not ever.

'He will choose me.' The thought seared through her mind, possessive and all-consuming, igniting something deep inside her. Her body tingled with the heat of her desire, an almost unbearable longing that clawed at her. She cursed herself silently. 'Shit, just thinking about him makes me… aroused.' Her breath quickened as the intensity of her emotions stirred a deeper frustration. 'I should've just violated that damn pact. It would have been so much easier.'

Fulgrimia's steps grew frantic as she stormed back to her chambers, the storm of emotions swirling violently inside her. She felt like she was suffocating, trapped in the tension that coiled around her heart. Her fingers clenched into fists as she reached her door. With a violent thrust, she slammed it behind her, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the silence of her room. She stood there for a moment, the air thick with her anger and desire, a storm raging inside her that she couldn't shake.

"Jared will be mine, and no one—NOTHING—will stand in my way."

.

.

.

On board Vengeful Spirit, flagship of Primarch Hathor of Luna Wolve.

Hathor leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed yet poised, as she surveyed the flickering holographic projection of her sisters before her. The soft blue light illuminated her features, casting subtle shadows that highlighted her sharp cheekbones and the calculating glint in her eyes. She narrowed her gaze, assessing each image with a blend of curiosity and disdain.

Her fingers drummed a rhythmic pattern against the armrest, the sound echoing softly in the otherwise silent chamber. Though her movements were casual, her mind raced, plotting and scheming. Sigh... Fulgrimia is truly a handful, she mused, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Always so fiery, so unpredictable.

"I hope you don't do something reckless this time, Hathor," a feminine voice rang from the corner of the bridge. Alakhai stood there, her sharp eyes observing the conversation between Fulgrimia and Hathor.

"Oh, don't worry, dear sister. I'm just testing her patience," Hathor replied with a mischievous grin.

"I know," Alakhai said, her tone steady but firm. "But don't provoke her again. Fulgrimia's temper is… volatile. She might do something we're not prepared to counter."

"I understand, I understand," Hathor said, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, where's our 'guest' now?"

"In one of the private chambers," Alakhai answered. "Sanguinia and Juno are overseeing him. Seems like Cora's concoction was a bit much for him."

"Is he alright?" Hathor's tone shifted, showing genuine concern.

"He'll live, but you'll have to wait until those two report back," Alakhai shrugged, her posture remaining composed. Her primary role was to ensure Fulgrimia didn't act impulsively regarding their unexpected guest.

"She's certainly a handful," a deep, commanding voice interjected, unmistakably feminine yet rich with authority. Petra entered the bridge, flanked by a squad of her marines. Her presence exuded power and purpose, a silent reminder of the contingencies in place should Fulgrimia decide not to cooperate.

"Oh, Petra," Hathor turned to greet her, an amused smile playing on her lips. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a moment ago," Petra huffed. Her sharp gaze swept across the room. "Is he alright?"

"As I said," Alakhai repeated calmly, "Sanguinia and Juno will bring us news soon enough."

An awkward silence crept into the room, heavy with unspoken tension. The atmosphere was broken only by the soft hiss of the doors sliding open again.

Sanguinia entered, her imposing wings folding neatly behind her. Her lips were curled into a smile, but anyone who dared meet her gaze would notice the barely concealed fury simmering in her eyes. Juno followed, her expression as composed as ever. Unlike Sanguinia, Juno's interest in the guest hadn't quite tipped into obsession—yet.

"Sanguinia," Hathor began cautiously, noting the tense energy radiating from the winged woman. "How is he?"

"He's fine," Sanguinia said, her majestic and soothing voice carrying an undertone of irritation. "Cora needs to refine her concoctions if she wants him to arrive in one piece. We can't afford mishaps like this again."

"I'll speak with her," Hathor said with a nod, her expression thoughtful. "As for Alpharia, I plan to report her methods to our father when the opportunity arises."

"Hah," Juno interjected with a sigh, her tone laced with resignation. "The Emperor will likely dismiss her recklessness—so long as her progress serves his grand vision. That's how it always is with her."

"We'll have to handle her ourselves," Sanguinia said sharply, her wings twitching slightly. "But carefully. Anything too conspicuous could invite questions from him, and the last thing we need is undue scrutiny."

"Agreed," Juno replied. "Discretion will be key. We make it clear she's overstepping, but without disrupting the facade of unity."

"Who will carry out the punishment?" Petra asked, her tone neutral as she feigned disinterest in the matter.

"Me," Hathor said without hesitation. "Along with Sanguinia. The rest of you will continue handling Alpharia's mission while she's... preoccupied."

The group exchanged brief glances but nodded in agreement.

"Any questions?" Hathor's voice carried an edge, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"No," they all replied in unison, their voices firm.

"Good," Hathor said, turning back to her console, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. "Then you're dismissed. I've matters of my own to attend to."

As the others dispersed to their respective chambers, Sanguinia retreated to hers, closing the door with deliberate care. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows across the room, amplifying the sinister thoughts racing through her mind.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, blood-stained rag—something she had secretly taken from Jared's wound when Alpharia's actions had left him injured. Her crimson eyes gleamed as she held it up, examining the faint stain. Slowly, she brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply.

A shiver ran down her spine as a dark, twisted smile crept across her lips. "Hehehe... you smell so good," she whispered to the scrap of fabric, her voice trembling with an unnerving mixture of lust and obsession. "Jared... you're perfect. You just don't realize it yet."

She clenched the rag tightly in her hand, her sharp nails digging into her palm as her thoughts turned venomous. "But our path to happiness... it's being blocked," she hissed, her tone laced with malice. The image of Fulgrimia loomed in her mind, an obstacle she could not ignore. "Some of my sisters think they can keep us apart. Especially her."

Her grip on the rag tightened, her expression darkening. "Don't worry, my love," she murmured, her voice almost soothing, yet chillingly possessive. "I'll take care of them. No one will stand in our way. My vision promised me you'd be mine... even if the odds are against me."

Sanguinia's lips curled into a smile as her tone turned sharper, more obsessive. "Sharing you might be acceptable... for now. But having you all to myself... oh, that's much better." She giggled softly, cradling the bloodied rag like a cherished keepsake.

"Soon, Jared. Soon, we'll be together forever. Even death won't part us," she whispered. The room fell silent, her chilling words lingering in the air, accompanied only by the faint rustling of the fabric in her hands.

Sanguinia's obsession had taken root, and the lengths she was willing to go would only grow darker with time