by Unknown
Viscous saliva slid slowly down the corners of its mouth. The creature gave a facsimile of a smile, its thick lips twisted in a repugnant grimace that looked hideous as hell.
“Get out!” she repeated.
“I think not, my lovely.” The creature wiped glutinous drool from its chin with the back of its claw-like hand.
Its voice sounded gruff, rough as gravel.
* * * *
Black Drayke stepped closer to the witch, shedding his shirt. He could no longer tolerate clothing touching his flesh. It made his skin crawl, as if thousands of bugs were burrowed beneath the leathery flesh scaling his now muscular body. He felt miserable. His skin itched and burned with need.
He ripped away his trousers and grinned at the look of revulsion that swept across the beauty’s face. He glanced down at the heavy, semi-erect cock that lay long and thick above the full, spongy sacs.
Shivering with pleasure, he hissed and extended the black wings from his back. He felt the sharp, pointed horns spear upward from his head. Two-inch fangs burst free and extended over his bottom lip. He stepped forward, testing his razor-sharp teeth with a cautious fingertip.
Hunger stirred in his belly. Raw, sexual hunger, a need that clawed unendingly, and which he could never quite satisfy. He stared at the beautiful witch before him and then down at his cock. It hardened and stretched, as if he’d commanded it to respond from just his glance.
He wanted to devour this beauty, needed to slake the wild hunger forever present in his loins. The need clamored, beating a wild rhythm in his mind. His head pounded fiercely. Black fire stabbed at his eyes. His sacs tightened sending spasms shooting through his groin. His cock jutted upward to full arousal. He hurt with the throbbing need that escalated in his loins.
Black Drayke eyed his engorged rod, touched the clear fluid beading there and smeared it across the thick purple knob.
“This is all for you, my lovely witch. The last witch I stuck it in screamed like a banshee, or rather she tried to scream.” He snickered. “For some reason, she couldn’t seem to make a sound. I’m going to pound you good, ride you hard, and leave you begging for more.”
* * * *
Too late, Saylym whirled to escape, but one muscular arm shot out and locked around her slender waist. He dragged her back and jerked her around to face him, laughing at her useless struggles.
Saylym shoved at the powerful arm squeezing her waist, but she couldn’t break free of the hold he had on her. Long talons hooked into her side, sinking deep as they tore into tender flesh, forcing her to remain utterly still.
With his free hand, he extended a rapier-sharp claw and ripped the plain white cotton shirt she wore down the middle. The full slopes of her breasts lay exposed to his black gaze.
Staring in fascinated horror, Saylym watched helplessly as he slowly dipped his head, sinking those long fangs deep into the fleshy mound of her left breast. White-hot pain pierced her breast as if he was pumping venom into her body. She screamed, twisting, but only succeeded in causing the claws to sink deeper in her waist.
“Mmmm,” he moaned, and pulled harder on her breast.
She heard a wild, slurping sound as he suckled deeply. Warm blood trickled down the slope of her breast. Slowly, he raised his head, licking his lips. “You taste delicious. I see why Talon chased after you now. I think I’ll have another bite.”
Saylym screamed, pushing against his shoulders. She couldn’t budge him or keep him from sinking his fangs into her exposed breast a second time. The razor-sharp tips sank deep and she heard his noisy slurp and deep swallows.
Her struggles were useless. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t get free.
Finally, he released her left breast, only to drag the razor-sharp points across her right breast, slicing across it like a sharp knife, then he suckled at the wound, licked the beads of blood off, and groaned in ecstasy. “You taste sweet, my pretty. Your magic is very potent.”
Dizziness assailed her. In spite of her fear of him, she clutched his arms to keep from falling. How much of her blood had he drunk? Nausea swirled through her stomach like black oil. She swayed toward him.
He laughed, drew his finger across her breast and licked the blood off his fingertip. “Don’t worry, my beauty, I didn’t take enough to damage you. I just took enough to make you weak. You’ll be less of a problem for me now.” At last, he eased back, licking the crimson droplets off his lips. “It was a small taste to satisfy my hunger for the moment.”
“Leave me alone,” she cried. “I’ve done nothing to you!”
His dark eyes glittered with ruthless cruelty. “Oh, but I’m going to do so much to you. That is but a sample of what is to be between us. You’re mine now, my beauty. Do not think Talon will come to your rescue. The beautiful MeLora has imprisoned him in the blackest dungeon of the palace. By now, he’s a slave to her every wish. Most likely, he’ll spend the day doing her bidding, fucking her as she commands. If he satisfies her, she might change her mind about having him flogged tomorrow night.”
“I don’t believe you! Talon would never allow that witch to touch him.”
He stroked a hideous claw down her aching breast. “MeLora has a way of making a man do as she commands. He’ll fuck her. He’ll have no choice.” He laughed. “Surely you do not believe the waken prince loves you? An Impure? I bet he’ll face public humiliation in the town square tomorrow night. He’ll be punished for making you his mate. He’ll suffer a whipping with the magical Char-Flum-Rope, the rope of flames. I can hardly wait to see the great event.”
Black Drayke grinned, stroking a deformed hand down her hair and throat. “One rarely tolerates the brutality of the Char-Flum-Rope. It burns the flesh off the bone. Ah, but while I’m waiting, I’ll have you to keep me occupied, my lovely.”
Saylym dug in her nails, clawing at the arm he had wrapped about her waist. “Let go of me!”
Black Drayke gripped her jaw in one hand and tipped up her face to his. He slammed his wet mouth over hers and drew deeply. He’d weaken her even more, by taking a long draught of her spirit. It would taste as pleasing as her blood on his tongue.
Saylym shuddered, pushing against his chest. He breathed in, drawing deeper and deeper. She whimpered as his mouth ground against hers.
Black Drayke suddenly released her, his black eyes glinting with rage, lips twisting with fury. Vile words spewed forth from his mouth. “Where in damnation is your soul, witch? It’ll do you no good to hide it from me. I want it!”
“It’s safe,” she sneered, “protected by a long-dead queen where no warlock or evil creature such as you may steal it. You’ll never own it. Never!”
He doubled up his fist and punched her in the face. The force of the blow knocked her to the floor. Saylym tasted blood in her mouth and groaned. Blinding pain stabbed her skull. He clamped his fingers in her hair and dragged her to her feet.
“What do you want?” she screamed.
Black Drayke snarled and wrapped his fingers in her hair. “You. I want you, darling,” he said, dragging her closer. “And I shall have you. You’ll crawl on your knees and beg me to pleasure you.” He freed her hair, extended a palm and blew a fine red powder straight into her face. Saylym gasped, shaking her head, slapping and clawing at him. Black Drayke squeezed her jaws, forcing her mouth open. Then, pursing his lips, he blew a second cloud of red dust down her throat with one smooth puff. “Don’t struggle. Stop struggling. Breathe it in, darling. It’ll be so much easier for you if you take it without a struggle.”
Saylym coughed, drew a sharp, strangled breath and sucked the red granules deep inside her lungs.
“Yes, that’s the way. Take it in, slow and deep, just like you’ll take my big cock. That’s it. Another deep breath. Keep breathing it in.”
Saylym wheezed. She choked and gagged as she tried to draw a breath of pure air. The deeper she breathed, the more powder she pulled into her lungs until it felt as if her entire body was lit by a burning torch.
>
“Yes,” Black Drayke crooned, forcing her mouth open again. He repeated the process, crooning encouragement for her to breathe the entire time, until her lungs were thickly coated and the back of her throat and tongue swelled and filled with clusters of raw, red blisters.
“Keep breathing, darling. Deeper. Take it all in. It’ll be over soon. That’s it. More. Take some more.” He murmured the words, snickering at the double entendre. He stroked her body with his hands. Saylym cried out when he squeezed her breasts. He pulled at her nipples and stroked between her thighs. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once.
For a moment, his black gaze fixed on the mark gradually fading from her throat. Hissing, he dragged her closer, sliding his sticky tongue over it, coating it with a black residue.
Black Drayke flung back his head, laughing as the mark completely faded from her throat. “With his loss of powers, Talon’s claiming mark can no longer protect you. I will have what is his, as usual.”
He slid his hand underneath her long, denim skirt, and eased a finger up her inner thigh. Gripping the thong, he ripped it off and let it fall to the floor, unworthy of notice.
Saylym pushed at his hand but it was useless. He thrust a finger inside her and stroked. “Ahh. Yes. You’re already wet and hot for my cock.”
“Don’t tou-touch me, you sli-slimy bas-bastard!” She barely managed to push the words past her swollen throat and tongue.
“Did you think I wouldn’t know you’re already wet for me? I don’t have to touch you to know that.” He slid his finger out of her and sucked on it. “Yummy. Tastes sweet like a fine wine.” He licked his lips. “Even now, the powder is racing through your bloodstream, heating your body, preparing it for mine.” He ground his mouth against hers, then lifting his head, cupped her breasts in his hands. “Ah, so charming. And it was all Talon’s.” He lowered his head, drew in a puckered nipple and suckled deeply.
Saylym whimpered and shoved at his powerful shoulders. Satisfied, Drayke let go of her with a rough push. “You’re ready for me, darling. I can tell. I can smell your lust.”
She gagged and fell retching to the floor on her hands and knees. Her stomach churned. Her insides clenched with pain. Making a sound of distress, she lowered her head and vomited blood-red liquid. The back of her throat burned. The inside of her mouth burned. She felt blisters upon blisters swelling on her tongue and lips.
“That will give you very little relief from the burning. In fact, vomiting will only make you feel worse, but it’s to be expected. The sickness will pass, darling. Or not.” He snickered. “The powder is my little treat to myself. It races through your body, attacking your veins, spreading bubbling fire through your blood. In short, it’s an aphrodisiac. You’ll be so horny in a few more minutes you’ll be climbing the walls in search of relief.” He paused, snapping his teeth. “Before this day ends, you’ll beg for my possession.” He rolled his eyes, savoring the moment. “And I promise you, I’ll have you many, many times, but it matters not, for you’ll feel no relief from the burning hunger. I’m not here to pleasure you, just myself.”
“I will never beg you! Never.” Saylym wiped the streaming tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a monster!”
“Tsk, tsk. Yes, I am a monster. And never, is a long, long time. Trust me, darling. You will beg me. But don’t worry; the powder has no lasting effects. By tomorrow, it’ll be gone. By then, I’ll have had my fill of you. Maybe.” He smiled, pleased with his work. “Be glad I did not choose to melt your vocal cords as I did Queen Helayne’s.” He laughed deeply at the horror that filled her eyes. “In a little while,” he said as he stroked the thick length of his cock, “you won’t be able to deny me.”
Saylym shuddered, but already, her body burned and hungered. Discreetly, she rubbed a hand across her bruised breast. Her heart fluttered and slowed, decreasing the rate the powder rushed through her bloodstream. She pursed her lips, a tiny moue, that allowed her to slowly draw in fresh air, exhale, in and out, until she breathed easier.
Black Drayke jerked her to her feet, his hands kneading her bared breasts. He dipped his head and drew a taut nipple inside his mouth, suckling strongly, before reluctantly releasing it. “Mmmm. I’m going to have a day of blissful pleasure, while you…you’re going to have unspeakable hell. I promise.”
He blew into her face, a single long puff. Darkness descended, swirling like a black fog around her. Saylym shuddered and collapsed into his waiting arms. Wings embraced her, wrapping her in the arms of evil.
Black Drayke carried her out of the shop. He bounded upward, black wings flapping, lifting both himself and Saylym high into the late evening sky. He held her in his arms, his grip deliberately loose. He gave serious thought to dropping her. But no, he had other plans for the beauty.
Later, after he’d had his fill, he’d take her and fly high in the sky, then drop her on top of Annu Mountain. What fun it’d be to hear her screams.
And there was nothing and no one standing in his way.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Governor Phips dissolved the Court of Oyer and Terminer.
~Salem Witch Trials
October 29, 1692
Ru-Noc
Droth
City of wakens
MeLora jolted awake from her afternoon nap. “Nooo,” she cried, jerking up on the side of the bed. “It cannot be! That sneaky bitch!”
But it was.
There had been an irreversible shift of power; a transference of magic. The subtle change in the air had an aura, a shift in the universe. It filtered through the air, eager to depart the news of her loss. A secret ceremony had taken place. She felt it deep inside her heartless soul.
Her chance to gain the power for herself had been stolen by that weakling witch! The first set of stones, the green gems, had been transferred to Saylym.
“Nooo!” She had to get them from her. Claim them.
Saylym now had the means to become powerful, possibly even stronger and more formidable than she could ever hope to become.
MeLora cursed loudly and viciously. She’d been searching for centuries for the magical jewels, and the bitch had stolen them right out from under her nose. By right of blood, they belonged to her. She was Queen Shy-Ryn’s daughter and next in line to inherit.
But a silent, nagging whisper raced through her mind, reminding her that the jewels could be transferred to whomever the queen chose, as long as it was a witch of royal blood. MeLora gasped. So this Saylym Winslow was related to her after all!
The only way to get the stones from her now would be to kill her, and that wasn’t a guarantee. It was likely that Queen Shy-Ryn had placed a protective spell over the magical gems.
Now that Saylym possessed them, it would be nearly impossible to obtain them. The bungling witch couldn’t possibly possess the skills or have gained the knowledge to use the stones' magic. That must mean someone was helping her. Could it be Queen Shy-Ryn?
Fire. She would destroy Saylym with fire, the same way she’d gotten rid of her own mother. That would be the only permanent method of removal.
Darak rose beside her, rubbing her bare shoulder. “What’s wrong, my love? The babe? Does our son give you discomfort?”
MeLora felt like screaming. Every time she lay down for rest, Darak followed her, insisting he rest beside her. All he talked about was the baby. Since she’d moved into the palace, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. He made love to her nightly, and any time through the day when he managed to get her alone. Of course she knew it was because of Beltane, and the spell she’d cast upon him, but for the god’s sake, for an older waken, the man was insatiable.
He drove her to the brink of madness with his constant pawing and taking her body as if he had a right to it. She understood that this time of year affected wakens greatly, but damn, she wished he’d give it a rest. She was sore from the frequency and she was heartily sick of having a much older waken riding her. She deserved someone handsome, like Talo
n.
“The baby’s fine,” she muttered. “I’m fine.”
Before she could utter a word of protest, Darak rolled her beneath him and thrust inside her. “You feel fine,” he whispered, and pressed a wet kiss to her mouth.
MeLora sighed, rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as he moved his hips, pushed deeper inside her and sighed with pleasure. She had to escape the man. Soon.
Tomorrow night, she would personally apply the whip to Talon’s back. She wanted the pleasure of watching him bleed.
Then she would find Saylym, kill her, and take the emeralds. As Darak suckled her breasts and grunted with satisfaction, she smiled to herself, pleased with her plans. Yes, tomorrow night, everything would start to fall in place. One by one, she would destroy the members of the royal family.
She’d give birth on All Hallows’ Eve, and then she’d have King Darak assassinated and place her son on the throne. Together, she and Lucifer would rule Ru-Noc and Sanctuary.
MeLora moaned as Darak thrust harder. Damn, how she despised this man. He was a rutting weakling. He should take lessons on strength of character from his son. Now, Talon was a real man.
She wanted him.
Before his death, she would have him. She would punish Saylym by stealing her mate, just as Saylym had stolen something that belonged to her. Revenge would be sweet. She already tasted it on her tongue. She moaned with pleasure just thinking of lighting the fire around Saylym.
MeLora toyed with the idea of offering to give Talon back to Saylym in exchange for the emeralds. She sighed. Darak grunted and stiffened, his seed washing her womb.
