by Plum Pascal
“Please what, angel?” he asks. “Please release you? Please let you go? Please let you continue to try to seduce us with your fucking perfect face?” He glances down at my breasts, then lower still. “And your fucking perfect body?”
I try to shake my head, but it’s difficult with the way he has my neck pinned. I can feel his breath on my cheeks. My heart is racing but something else is happening, too. Maybe it’s his closeness, but I can feel a deep sting starting in my abdomen. A yearning, a need begins to blossom, arching out through my body.
I want him. And I hate myself for wanting him.
“I’m… not trying to hurt… any of you,” I argue as I struggle against him.
“It’s too fucking late,” he snarls back at me. I feel my stomach drop as I realize what he’s just admitted.
I’ve hurt him.
“I’m the same person I always was, Dragan,” I start, but he cuts me off by tightening his fingers around my throat.
“You’re not the same person,” he interrupts, and then yanks me away from the tree before forcing me down to the ground. He pins me there as he climbs on top of me.
“I’ll… I’ll go back with you,” I promise.
“You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to,” he corrects me as he releases his fingers from my neck. I take a deep breath, which pushes my breasts forward, and he immediately notices them.
“Damn you,” he says.
I’m…” I begin but my words are cut short as he runs his hands through his hair and looks like he’s braving his own fight—the internal type.
“Dragan…” I say his name on a breath, because I can’t fight the way his gaze makes me feel.
“Don’t,” he replies, and I feel sadness overcome me. He thinks I’m some horrible creature, that I’m deplorable and wicked. But, I’m not. Even though I might have this side to me, I’m still the same Eilish I was before any of us learned what I truly am.
At least, I think I am.
“I…” The words die on my tongue.
“I hate this power you have over me,” he mumbles as he reaches down and outlines the shape of one of my breasts over the white fabric of the dress. My nipples are as hard as stones. “Cambion is right. I’m weak.”
He pulls his hands away and then, gripping each side of my dress, he rips the material straight down the middle, pulling each piece apart until I’m lying there, completely naked. His eyes are instantly glued to my nipples. He covers them with his rough palms, and I close my eyes in spite of myself. I can feel myself growing wetter.
“Cambion isn’t right,” I counter, opening my eyes to look at him. Dragan glares back at me.
“If he could see me now, he’d kill me, I have no doubt.” He trails his fingers down my stomach and pushes my legs apart. “But he has no idea what you feel like, because he’s never been inside you,” he goes on, and parts my sex with his index finger. He looks up at me then and I arch underneath him as I feel his finger touching my clit. “Fuck me, but I never want him to be inside you,” he adds as he pushes his finger into me and I moan out.
“Dragan,” I say, and he pushes another finger into me.
“Again,” he commands. “Say my name again.”
“Dragan,” I repeat.
Then his eyes are on mine and they’re determined, narrowed and harsh. “My name is the only one I ever want to hear on your tongue. Do you fucking understand?”
“Yes,” I agree as he thrusts a third finger inside me.
“Mmm, you’re so wet.”
“Please,” I whisper, needing to feel his erection inside me. I need his seed; I need him. I’m not sure if it’s the Succubus speaking through me but at this point, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is… him.
I watch him fumble with his pants and, seconds later, he frees his engorged penis. He spreads my legs even farther apart and pushes into me until the entirety of his cock is sheathed inside me. I scream out in pleasure and slight pain from underneath him, sinking my fingernails into the taut skin of his back. His muscles shift beneath my hands as I cling to him and he thrusts repeatedly.
“Say you’re mine,” he demands, his eyes suddenly finding mine again.
“I’m yours,” I answer instantly, without even having to think. He reaches down and begins rubbing my clit and I explode almost immediately, feeling my legs seize up as the orgasm claims me from head to toes.
It’s maybe another second before he pushes into me as far as he can and clenches his eyes shut as he releases himself. When he finishes, he’s panting. He collapses against my breasts for a moment, but then seems to remember himself because he pulls out of me and eagerly busies himself dressing.
“You’ll speak of this to no one,” he says, without turning around.
“What about my dress?” I ask as I hold the two ripped pieces together, trying to cover myself in an almost shy manner, which seems completely ridiculous considering what we’ve just done. But now Dragan is icy in his behavior towards me and I feel self-conscious and ashamed.
He faces me again and closes his eyes, holding up his hands to the ravaged fabric I hold in mine. His lips move as he recites an enchantment. Moments later, the two halves sew themselves back together as if by an invisible needle and thread.
He’s already completely dressed.
“It’s time we get back,” he announces, and I notice with chagrin that he doesn’t offer me a hand up. Instead, he turns on his toes and starts marching back towards the camp. I’m left with no other option but to follow, because I know if I try escaping now, he’ll easily run me down.
###
Dragan
What the fuck did I just do?
How the fuck did I just… What the hell is wrong with me?
Didn’t I learn my goddamn lesson with Lamia? How the hell could I have possibly…
Truth is, I’m as much a fool as Cambion thinks I am.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Why can’t I resist the pull of this woman?
Even after I know what she is!
She’s a fucking Succubus, for Christ’s sake!
A Succubus!
Memories of Lamia and her fucking whore daughters come back to haunt me and I have to force my eyes shut to beat the visuals away. I swore I’d never find myself in a similar situation and yet here I am again—unable to say no, unable to prioritize my self-respect over my fucking dick! Unable to keep my cock in my fucking pants!
Eilish isn’t Lamia. Sex with Eilish feels entirely different. Even now, you don’t feel drained, you don’t feel exhausted. And you should—after you just fucked the hell out of her, you should feel tired at the very least, but you don’t, a voice inside my head pipes up, and I suddenly wish I could pound it with my fists until it dies a miserable death. You don’t feel drained because Eilish is different. She’s not Lamia.
Fuck the voice because I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it.
Eilish is no different. She’s Succubus—she’s demon. And she’s fully aware of the power she has over me.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, glad she’s trailing behind so she can’t hear my words and guess at my inner turmoil.
I’ve half a mind to leave her here in the forest, at the mercy of the elements, and let her figure her own way out. But I know I won’t do that. I can’t do that.
Because, fuck me, but I still care about her. I don’t know how it’s possible, given that I know what she is, but I do. In fact, I’m having a shit of a time trying to separate the angel from the demon. When I look at her, all I can see is the sweet, innocent woman I thought she was.
I’m a fucking moron.
But she is half angel, I remind myself. And she has angel wings. You’ve seen them yourself. She still could be the answer to defeating Variant.
Or am I just kidding myself?
Of one thing, I’m convinced—I can’t be trusted alone with her again.
FOURTEEN
Cambion
Mortal Plane
; Morning comes, even though the cloud cover is thick and bathes our surroundings in shades of gray. It’s a good omen—it means Baron will be able to travel more easily. Perhaps he won’t have to rely on his potions to protect him against the sun.
I’m in especially good spirits this morning, as I feel very well-rested. It was a good decision on my part to pause for the night and allow the group to rest. Dragan would have pushed us until we had no energy left. All that would have done is considerably slow us down today. Yes, it’s a good thing for all involved that I’ve taken the proverbial reins.
We pack what little we possess and start through the forest yet again, walking along the stream that will eventually guide us to the road.
I notice my companions are especially quiet this morning. Baron is almost reliably silent in general, but Dragan also seems lost in his own thoughts, as does the demoness. Even Flumph is uncharacteristically quiet, where he rides on the girl’s shoulder, glaring at me every opportunity he gets.
Fucking thing.
I look forward to leaving him and the witch behind us, and I’m hopeful that opportunity will present itself once we reach Earleann. As far as I’m concerned, if we leave the Succubus in Earleann and Variant comes looking for her, maybe he’ll take her as reward enough and allow Dragan and I to return to our respective realms.
If only.
Or perhaps Raflamir will choose to imprison the demoness? Demons are not welcomed in the Fae Realm and perhaps imprisonment is exactly what she needs. As a Succubus, she’s unpredictable at best—at worst, she could be deadly.
As I think, I find my gaze settling on the Succubus without my even realizing it. She’s absolutely stunning, it’s true. I can’t argue that fact, even if she is the embodiment of all things unholy. Demons are the lowliest of shadow creatures, but a Succubus? They’re the vilest of the vile.
And yet, she’s more lovely than any woman I’ve ever seen, I counter in my head. And her nature appears to be gentle.
It’s all artifice! Simply her shadow magic attempting to pollute your mind, I assure myself. Apparently, my other self finds this to be a good argument, as that nagging voice remains silent for once.
Still, I continue to ponder her—continue to watch her. I have to admit, I desire her. I do. And, of course, I wonder what it would feel like to fuck a Succubus. Perhaps I will get my chance before I leave her in Earleann.
After all, there is that vision she experienced. It was a vision of the two of us deeply involved in a sexual tryst, and to say I had enjoyed myself is an understatement. Yes, I do want her and, yes, I intend to have her, but merely once and merely for the novelty of fucking a Succubus.
It’s interesting, but I’ve not felt this sort of hunger for a female from the Shadow Realm before. Truthfully, I can’t recall the last time I’ve felt this sort of hunger for any woman. Lamia, of course, was highly attractive but she didn’t weigh on my thoughts the way this demoness does. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that Eilish is half angel, which makes her more attractive to me than she otherwise would be? Or perhaps it’s simply because she’s more attractive physically than Lamia?
I shrug as I consider the question. Regardless, I will have my way with her, and then I’ll be done with her. It will be simple to walk away, as I don’t believe she’s the answer to anything, though perhaps Dragan still clutches that ideal.
To me, she’s nothing.
###
It’s perhaps another two hours before we reach the road. In that time, the only one to speak has been Flumph and I would prefer to avoid his conversation—it’s inane, at best.
I find myself growing curious as to why Dragan is so introspective. He’s more brooding than usual. I decide he’s simply eating crow regarding the fact that I am now in charge of our band and my leadership is quite superior to his. I imagine this is not an easy detail to digest.
“I hear something,” he finally says.
I pique my ears and, sure enough, the sound of a sputtering engine can be heard perhaps a mile down the road. This time, I don’t believe it’s wise to stand our ground.
“We must get off the road,” I tell the group.
As I am the one holding the rope that binds the demoness’ hands, I lead her toward the cover of trees. Keeping my grip firm, lest she attempt to flee, I cloak the two of us (er, three of us, since Flumph is riding on her shoulder) with an illusionment charm that will block us from view. Baron and Dragan do the same.
We’re perhaps twenty feet from the road, watching in nervous anticipation as the sound of the vehicle’s engine grows louder. Without incident, a red truck trundles by, its wheels bouncing merrily on the thick, uneven gravel.
I have yet to understand how these motorized carriages work but it’s a subject better left for another day, when I’m not wanted by the false king.
I let out a sigh of relief before I release my hold on the ropes and remove the protective layer of invisibility I’d magicked for us. Then I wave everyone onward.
It’s night by the time we reach the river.
For a moment, I’m awed by its beauty. Riverine lines the water on either bank, making it appear crystal clear. The water moves quickly, slicing through the land as it meanders out and around the road before disappearing into the tree line of the forest.
Overhead, the moon is full, lighting our way in milky shades of blue. Nearly everything exists in a monochromatic blue-gray hue.
The cover of darkness will be ideal for our entry into Earlann. Even so, we’ll need to find a way to attract the attention of Raflamir and Raflamir alone. It will be well understood in all realms that Variant is hunting us, and we are to be considered enemies to the crown.
The confidence I portrayed regarding Raflamir’s loyalty may have been slightly exaggerated, as I have not seen nor heard from him in a very long time, but I’m certain he won’t betray us. Raflamir was always a man of high moral character. Even though we haven’t spoken since the war, I have no reason to believe my friend won’t come to our aid. His allegiance to the new order has been fickle over the years, usually in response to whether or not he holds Variant’s favor. And rumor of late is that he’s lost Variant’s favor.
Though I was never able to leave Geldingstock, owing to my banishment, news was still able to reach me. It is true that nothing travels faster than gossip.
I can only hope my request for food and shelter will fall upon favorable ears, and I believe it will. Elves are creatures of community and family. We pride ourselves on our loyalty to our own kind, and our honesty and magnanimity to those we consider comrades. It’s this sense of noble honor that I shall appeal to, where Raflamir is concerned.
Furthermore, we place the utmost importance on the balance of the natural world. In this way, no elf would ever choose to accept the false king, for he exists solely for himself and has already and will assuredly continue to uproot the balance of all things natural.
I am positive Raflamir will be true to his race, and will proudly and graciously open his arms and his home in support of what is noble and what is right.
Cutting through the underbrush, I make my way swiftly towards the entrance of Earlann. The scent of lilac and magnolia clings to the light breeze that rustles the nearby foliage. It’s sweet and syrupy, mingling with the collective odors that hover around my travel companions and me.
Flumph flutters beside my head as I crouch low to the ground and pluck one of the glistening Riverine rocks from the flowing stream. I hand it to the insufferable little creature and point to a shard of stone that juts out from the outcrop of the rockface. “Hold it up to catch a beam of moonlight. Don’t lower your arm until I signal you to do so.”
The sprite’s little wings flap wildly as he struggles under the weight of the stone. “Oh, sure, make me do all the heavy liftin’. Ain’t like I gots anythin’ better ta do.” He flies toward the shard of stone even as he complains tirelessly, his squeaky little voice fading away with each flap of his wings.
Dragan eye
s me from where he lurks in the shadows, reluctantly holding the demoness’ rope. “Are we here?” he asks.
“We’ve reached the gateway to Earleann, yes,” I answer.
He shakes his head. “I still think this is a terrible idea. It’s best that no one know our situation or our whereabouts.”
“You are allowed your own opinion,” I respond archly as I make my way over to them, chewing the inside of my cheek to keep the sharp comments that hover on my tongue at bay. But, only for now. The gargoyle crosses his massive arms over his chest, and cocks an arrogant brow.
“What’s the plan?” he grumbles.
“We need to catch Raflamir’s attention without signaling any sentries.”
“And, how do you propose we do that?” Dragan rolls his eyes.
“Flumph will reveal the entrance to Earlann. The gateway is somewhere along the river. Find the gate, and we find Raflamir.”
The feral curse that drifts from Dragan’s lips causes a smile to appear on my face. I love being the one to call the shots. If the shadow-dweller had his way, the entire mission would be one big ‘fuck you’ to Variant, and we’d most likely storm the palace and die trying to exact our revenge. Dragan’s heavy-handed ways would almost certainly get us killed. This mission takes stealth and precision, something of which the hamfisted oaf isn’t capable, even with his magic.
“Just take the left and cover my advances,” I say before glancing back at the vampire. “Baron still isn’t in any shape to fight. I’ll have him watch the demon.”
The Succubus shifts her weight and shakes her head at my term for her; Dragan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. I can tell the appellation bothers him all the same. And, of course, it should—he’s had his way with her, and she entrapped him just as easily as Lamia did. I’m sure that fact burns him more than any flames of hell could.
I grab her rope, and move away from Dragan, approaching the vampire with an impassive shield over my expression. Eilish blinks up at me, like an owl. Dark circles appear beneath her enchanting eyes, and I force myself to look away.
