Damon hesitated, suppressing his initial reflex to say no, to push her away. She couldn’t feed off him without permission – his myrblade’s ice affinity made sure of that. And here she was, asking for permission. It was disarming, and made him think that maybe she was also trying to figure him out, simply for the sake of knowing him.
“What do I get in return?” he asked, with a small, greedy smile.
“In truth?” Lilian stepped forward, moving to stand so close that he could feel the heat coming off her body in horny waves. “Just about anything you want.”
CHAPTER 7
Damon pressed Lilian back against the stone wall of the tunnel with enough force to make her gasp. She took a breath, shoulders shivering involuntarily. The wall was cold, and she was hardly dressed.
He kissed her, knowing himself to be a willing participant in her seduction. She was like him, in a way, though if sex was his weakness, then blood was hers. Lilian bit his lower lip as their kisses intensified, hard enough to hurt, just short of breaking the skin.
“Are you going to take me down to your room?” she whispered with a breathy growl.
Damon let his rapidly stiffening cock poke against her thigh in place of a proper answer. He could take her to his bed. It was an option, one which he couldn’t precisely articulate his disinterest in. Lilian, corrupted by the blood of a zanyadai. Lilian, tempting him with dark seduction in the dead of night.
He turned her around and pushed her forward against the window, putting her into a position where the wind and rain were kissing her face. He slid her nightgown up. She wasn’t wearing girlshorts, but she’d been that type of woman even before her transformation.
Damon knew he didn’t have to be gentle with her. He took his cock out and eased it into her womanhood, which felt sticky, almost like thick honey or molasses in place of simple wetness. Lilian let out a girlish grunt and arched her back. One of her hands clutched his forearm, claws threatening to dig in.
No, he didn’t have to be gentle with her… but he still needed to be careful. Damon pumped his cock forward, exhaling in satisfaction as he explored her depths. He accelerated his pace, thrusting faster and faster until his crotch collided with the perfect cushion of her ass with each forward motion.
Lilian let out an annoyed hiss, and Damon realized that the rain had shifted direction, soaking her face and upper body. He pulled her back, briefly hugging her from behind at an angle that made his cock pop loose from her slit with an amusing, harp string flutter.
She pulled her wet nightgown up and over her head, turning around to face him in a sliver of teal moonlight. Eldritch was almost full, and Damon would need to plan on meeting Vel soon, if not the next night. The thought seemed so far-off as he stared at the strange, naked woman in front of him, less than human, more than monster, seduction incarnate.
She hugged herself against him, holding his cock like a loaded crossbow in her surprisingly soft palm as she inhaled against his shoulder. She moaned as she kissed his neck, roaming around with her hand to cup his manhood and touch him in all the most sensitive places.
Her teeth raked softly against his neck, as though asking for permission. He reached around, playing with her awesome, impossibly taut buttocks. He gave them a squeeze and nodded his head.
“Go ahead,” he whispered. “I won’t freeze your lips off this time.”
She let out a single, dark laugh. “I appreciate that.”
She didn’t bite him immediately. It was as though, despite his assurance, she still felt she needed to warm her chosen feeding spot. She lavished his neck with small, sucking kisses, and then began to lick him in a manner that tickled so much Damon had to give her butt a warning slap to get her to stop.
He could sense the excitement fluttering through her as she finally prepared to sink her fangs in. The anticipation would have unnerved him had it been the first time he experienced it. Instead, Damon became even more aroused, his cock hardening to the point where it was liable to burst even from accidental touches. He cradled Lilian’s head, pulling her mouth into his neck in the manner he might embrace a normal woman.
Damon grunted as he felt the tiny pinch of pain, followed immediately by the deluge of insane pleasure. It was more than one sensation. There were different tones to it, different faces. The euphoria of drunkenness, the eroticism of sexual buildup. The simple, warm acceptance of a tight, loving hug.
Lilian moaned, whimpering almost as she lapped up the last few drops of what she was apparently willing to take from him. Damon mumbled something that even he couldn’t make out. He was drooling, and he very nearly had a thigh cramp from how badly he needed to come.
“Do you want to know what your blood tastes like?” whispered Lilian.
It took him a second to make sense of her words, the question. “What?”
“There was… this treat that my uncle used to make for me when I was young, before he died,” she said. “He would pour hot maple sap onto snow in the winter, and it would crystallize into these delicious, cold chunks. Sweet and sticky.”
She slid down to her knees, letting her chin brush against his cock so it snapped back upward as she passed by. She touched it with her hand, dark eyes wide and still visibly dazed from her indulgence. Damon buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her head forward, her lips brushing against the tip of his manhood.
She made a soft, cooing noise as she began to suck, followed by a chorus of slurping lewdness as she committed herself to the act in earnest. The pleasure of it was unreal, enough to make him wonder if he’d accidentally let her corrupt him without realizing it. Her mouth was hot and active. Her lips pinched with a tight, sucking seal.
He didn’t last long.
He had to brace himself against the wall as he came. He unloaded enough seed into Lilian’s mouth to, by his reckoning, paint her tongue and cheeks as white as the snow outside. He only slowly caught his breath afterward, and she stood to give him a gentle, surprisingly affectionate hug.
Lilian’s arms suddenly stiffened against him. Damon reacted as though faced with a threat, which proved prudent as he followed the line of her gaze toward the window.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Outside,” she whispered. “There’s something there. More than just one.”
A loud banging noise sounded from outside, like a heavy fist against wood. Damon looked down from the tower and spotted a shape moving through the snow, humanoid, but down on all fours. There was more than one, perhaps a dozen in total, all assembled outside the keep’s main door, keen on breaking it down.
“Those would be highlander tau,” he muttered. “Rovahn’s balls.”
“What?” Lilian was still hugging him, and the tips of her claws traced lines through the fabric of his shirt. “But we only have the trained ones that Famine gave us.”
“They have pack instincts,” he said. “The ones you have might be tame, but that doesn’t mean they’re incapable of attracting ones who aren’t. I should have realized this might happen when I first saw them.”
“What do we do?” asked Lilian. “Can a fight be avoided?”
“No,” he said. “Go make sure Kastet is safe. I’ll handle them.”
Lilian stared at him blankly, but Damon was already moving. The freezing rain had rendered the keep’s exterior slick and icy, which suited him perfectly. He drew his myrblade and pressed it to the wet stone outside the window, exhaling frozen white breath as he drew from its enchantment.
He created a simple slide of ice, with a generous lip on either side for maximum safety. Damon stepped out of the window and slid down it, speeding along like a child might take a snow sled down a hill.
The tau barely reacted as he hit the ground behind them. The snow was sticky and crunchy from the freezing rain, but it made little difference to him in practical terms. Damon jabbed the tip of his sword into the ground and summoned a pair of ice elementals.
He could easily have cut down the tau on his own. It would hav
e been easier, still, to take them on with Lilian at his side, each of them handling half of the pack with effort to spare. With that said, he was more powerful than he’d been the last time he’d faced this kind of monster. He didn’t have to exert himself at all, really, with the tricks he now had up his sleeve.
The ice elementals fought with cold efficiency, dodging the claw strikes and snapping jaws of the tau with lithe, elegant movements. They were both feminine in appearance, tall, naked women composed entirely of magic and flawless pale blue ice. They struck back with punches and kicks that shattered bone, occasionally slipping behind one of the monsters to grapple them to the snow and freeze off body parts.
Damon watched with grim approval, as did Kastet and Lilian who’d peered out from the tower’s window above. Neither of the women looked worried, and more to the point, they were talking with one another about what they were currently witnessing. Whether it was a conversation borne of respect of his abilities, or concern over his intentions, well, he could only guess.
“Drag the bodies out of the courtyard,” he told his ice elementals as they finished dispatching the monsters. “No need to leave them to bleed into the clean snow.”
He spoke loudly enough for Kastet and Lilian to hear, despite knowing he could have given the command with a silent thought. There was no need to give everything away just yet.
CHAPTER 8
Damon slept fitfully, plagued by dreams he couldn’t remember. He awoke early in the morning, shirt soaked through with sweat. It took him a few seconds to remember enough to recognize his surroundings. He was still in Hexadonia, still fencing over everything and nothing with Kastet.
He dressed and left his chamber. The stone hallways of the ancient fortress were cold, uncomfortably so, though it hardly bothered him. He found his way back to Kastet’s audience chamber and pushed his way through the polished oak double doors.
“You’re letting the draft in.” Kastet sat at the table in the corner, eating a slice of fruit cake and drinking steaming hot tea. Her hair was loose and messy, and unless Damon was mistaken, she wore the same nightgown Lilian had worn the night before.
He shut the doors behind him as he entered, each footstep echoing through the overlarge chamber. He didn’t see Lilian anywhere, which left him with no option other than to join Kastet at her table. She gave him a curt nod, cutting him a slice of fruit cake and pouring him a mug of tea.
“Where’s Lilian?” he asked.
“With no tau to keep guard over the perimeter, the duty fell to her,” said Kastet. “A temporary setback. I’ll have enough coin saved to hire a mercenary or two to serve me fulltime, soon enough.”
“Right,” said Damon. “Because that’s precisely what you need most right now. A mercenary to guard an abandoned fortress.”
Kastet’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
“I do. Go back to the inn. Quit making your life harder than it needs to be.”
“That’s amusing, coming from you,” she said. “At least I know what I want, Damon. At least I can see a vision for my future that makes sense.”
“You see too much in your own future.”
They stared at each other, and Damon saw his own annoyance reflected in her expression. It was her ambition that prickled him. It felt so pointless, a habit that had run its course, overstaying its welcome. At the same time, he saw no real point in arguing with her if it wasn’t necessary.
He ate his food and drank his tea, ignoring the tension that filled the silence. Footsteps sounded from outside the audience chamber, and Lilian entered a moment later.
“Princess Kastet,” she said, offering a small bow. “A courier arrived bearing a message from one of our spies in Avaricia.”
Damon arched an eyebrow. The fact that Kastet had spies in Avaricia was interesting, but the fact Lilian had deliberately chosen to reveal that detail with him present was just as intriguing. Kastet accepted the missive with a peevish frown, examining the wax seal for only a moment before opening it and unrolling the parchment.
“This…” she whispered. “This is impossible.”
Damon wondered briefly if she might be playing up her reaction, trying to tease him into asking about what the message held, drawing him deeper into her web. The surprise on Kastet’s face looked entirely genuine, however, and after a few seconds, she was forthcoming with the information.
“There’s been a transition of power within the Merinian line of succession,” she said, voice breathless, wavering. “Gabriel… has ascended to the throne.”
Damon folded his arms. Lilian bent over the table, staring at the missive in awe.
“This is good news, isn’t it?” asked Lilian. “Kastet… This means you can go home if you want. You could return to Merinia, to Hearthold Castle.”
There was a pang of sadness in Lilian’s voice which Damon didn’t miss. Kastet could go home if she wanted. Lilian, in her current state, would receive no such open welcome.
“How can this be?” muttered Kastet. “King Gabriel… It doesn’t even sound right to speak aloud.”
“Huh,” said Damon. “I wasn’t sure Gabe had it in him. The only way he could have taken the throne from Anise is through sheer force or serious cunning.”
“He’ll be grateful to both of you, no doubt,” said Lilian. “You gave him support. Vel as well, given how she used her magic to aid in his escape from the dungeon.”
“I made him what he was!” snapped Kastet. “The only reason he even deigned to leave his bedchamber was at my urging.”
“You don’t sound pleased by this development,” said Damon.
Kastet whipped her gaze up from the missive to glare at him. “This is not the time for your mockery. There’s more to the message than the simple news of the succession. He’s still coming to Veridan’s Curve, taking Anise’s place in the visit she planned to Avaricia.”
“Wait…” said Lilian. “What does that mean? Gabriel would be placing himself in Avarice’s power, in essence. Why would he take such a risk?”
The obvious answer, the one Damon was reluctant to voice, was that the young king planned on renewing Merinia’s alliance with Avarice, rather than abolishing it. It would be a betrayal of many of the ideals Gabriel seemed to espouse in the short time Damon had gotten to know him, but he wouldn’t be the first monarch to cave in the face of political reality upon ascending the throne.
“As fascinating as I find this new development, it doesn’t really concern me directly,” he said into the thoughtful silence. “I need to get back to Azurecliff. Vel promised to return by the rise of the next full moon, which is tonight.”
“Wait!” snapped Kastet. “Damon. This is serious. If Gabriel is coming to Veridan’s Curve, I need to see him before he meets with Avarice. Do you know what this could mean?”
“No, but I get the feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“He could be an imposter!” said Kastet. “Or… perhaps under some sort of mind-bending spell! There’s no way Gabriel would consider extending the alliance with Avarice of his own accord!”
Damon exchanged a skeptical glance with Lilian.
“Regardless, I’m going to need you by my side in the days to come,” said Kastet. “I can promise you the title to an entire city, along with a vault of gold, if you serve as my retainer and help me reach him first.”
“No,” he said. “Look, I have my own problems to deal with right now. I have to meet up with Vel and find my aesta. I’m sorry, Kastet. I can’t help you this time around.”
He didn’t have much else to say and knew that if he stayed, Kastet would plead with him endlessly. He stood up from the table, scooping the last of his fruit cake into his palm for the road.
“Stop!” snapped Kastet. “Lilian! Don’t allow him to leave just yet. We aren’t finished talking.”
Lilian let out a snort. “I can’t stop him, Your Highness. He’s more powerful than I am. I also think he has a point.”
Damon saw the impotent rage stirring in Kastet’s expression. This was what he’d tried to get through to her before. She could sit on her throne in a crumbling fortress and call herself a princess, but the power she pretended to wield was meaningless without subjects.
“Damon!” shouted Kastet. “Get back here! If you walk out that door, you’ll regret it!”
“Come with me,” he said. “Stay at the inn for a night or two. We can talk more about this with Vel. I don’t know that my answer will be any different, but it would make for livelier surroundings than these cold stones.”
“I order you, by my right as the Princess of Merinia, to get your hand off that door!”
Damon sighed and shook his head. Had she always been this bossy and controlling? He ignored several more petulant shouts as he left the audience chamber and pushed into the dark hallway beyond.
CHAPTER 9
The previous night’s freezing rain had depressed the snow and created a thick crust of ice overtop it. It was enough to support Damon’s weight, and his trip back to Azurecliff felt surreal, as though the ground was a full foot higher than normal.
Conveniently, the hard-packed snow made his tracks faint, near impossible to follow. It left Damon bolder than he otherwise would have been. As he approached The Rosewood Inn, he veered north, following the road up toward the town proper.
It was his first real look at Azurecliff in weeks, given how his recent arrival and departure had been under the cover of night. The town was rebuilding, but evidence of Victor Blackseed’s attack was still obvious. A least a dozen houses on the outskirts were burned-out shells, too damaged to be repaired, standing reminders of that horrible day.
Eventually, the townsfolk would demolish them and reclaim the land, but it wouldn’t happen before winter’s end, or even be at the top of the agenda next spring, during planting season. It was a harsh reality in towns like Azurecliff. The world would continue on with its demands and obligations, while those who couldn’t get over their losses were left behind or dragged forward.
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