Snow Covered Moon

by L M Adams

  “So you’re really not going to put on your cuff?” And we’re back to that.

  “No,” I shuffle forward a little.

  “Fine then I’ll come with you to your rooms, I’ll bandage you up.”

  “I’ll get a slave to do it.”

  “No, you won’t Jae, you’ll change your shirt and rush off to meet Tabari still bleeding.”

  “Now who’s being mule headed? If I said I will, I will.”

  “I know you will in your own sweet time, like you have to prove how tough you are by walking around all day bleeding.”

  “If it makes you feel better, fine!” I agree to the man coming to tend my wound like a meddlesome woman.

  We step up to the portal attendant. He’s a low-level Magi, “Cerberus district sub level two.” I give him my destination.

  The Palace goes further underground than it does above ground. Most night dwelling creatures take rooms below. I’m a creature of the Moon Goddess on both sides, vampire and succubus. I can walk in the daylight just fine, but I do feel more comfortable in the night air.

  There are two mirrors; one for arrivals, one for departures, steady traffic through both. The tall departure mirror begins to glow warmly, runes light up on the edges of the glass close to the elaborate gold frame with gems of all types embedded in the metal. It’s a gorgeous piece of working art.

  “Proceed,” the Magi commands, eyes glowing as he channels the power of the Sunstone.

  I step through first, for one split second I feel as if I’m floating, and then a huge drop inside my stomach as I emerge on the other side.

  The quiet is shocking to step into as if it’s a live thing. The sub levels on the Cerberus side are usually quiet during the day. Peterus steps through behind me. I lead him through the black marbled hallways lit by old style wall sconces. We pass a few house slaves, hurrying about their business as we make it to my rooms. Peterus stops one ordering her to bring warm water and clean linen to my rooms.

  I open my apartment door, I never lock it. No one is dumb enough to try and steal from a Reaper, Reaper in training or not. Lush black carpet gives easily under my leather knee boots. There’s a small seating area to the left with a fireplace, a long table on the right wall with plants I didn’t put there, nor do I take care of. Deep red painted stone walls, my color scheme is a bit manly, my furniture not. But I like it, it feels like home.

  My clothes from the night before aren’t in the middle of the room anymore, which means a slave has come to straighten my rooms. I’d be a complete slob without their meddlesome ways. I head to the table along the wall where I keep a decanter with Night Shade wine in it. It’s pretty strong stuff, it takes a lot to get a supernatural drunk, but I’ve perfected the method. I want to put the cuff on to heal; I want the pain to go away now. I compromise with a glass of wine to help dull the ache.

  “Would you like one?”

  “No, and you wouldn’t need it if you healed.”

  “So you’re not going to let it go?”

  The door opens as Sherry, a house slave, brings in a basin with the hot water and clean linen to bind my wound. I wouldn’t usually know a house slave’s name, but I’m currently fucking this one. My eyes glow with passion. My body wanting to repair itself sees someone I can drink from, someone’s lust I can feed off of. I can’t actually drink her down because of the power of the Sunstone, but my body doesn’t know it. It would be a waste of energy to take her.

  She puts down the basin quickly beside me on the table and unties her simple black dress from around her neck. She’s not allowed to wear clothing in my rooms. I’d punished her for that offense just the other night, slowly, in sweet torture that made her cry out with my name. Her large breasts are peaked in desire and I can smell her arousal in the air easily.

  Sherry has glorious red hair, wild with curls streaked with blonde, as if her head is surrounded by a fiery halo. I grab a handful of the curls, dragging her to me for a kiss. She moans into my mouth. I reach down parting the wet fold between her thighs, stroking her harshly, quickly without finesse or forgiveness, to the edge. I let a bit of my essence trickle into her, making her burn with passion, burn with the need of having me.

  “Please Mistress,” she begs out as I break the kiss.

  “I’ve already let you come once this month, greedy wench.”

  “Please, Mistress, please!”

  “What will you give me to come? Hmmm what will you give me?”

  “Anything,” she whimpers out.

  “Do I not already own everything you have to give?”

  “Yes, Mistress, yes,” she begins crying.

  “Then no, you may not come.” I remove my hand and turn away from her; she falls to her knees, begging quietly.

  “Goddess you’re a mean bitch, Jaevia.”

  I smile at Peterus and take a sip of my wine.

  “She likes it.”

  Neither Sherry nor any other Cerberus house slave has an obligation to sleep with anyone. I’d seduced her though; it was a slow, aching affair. I love her hair; I just had to have her. Now that I own her, I find myself growing bored with her already.

  “I bet, come let’s fix you up.”

  My leather jacket and plain white shirt are stuck in the wound and I cry out as Peterus pulls the cloth away from my back. I brace myself on the chaise near the fire place, breathing heavy. He and Sherry clean the wound as I grind my teeth against the pain their attention causes, but I don’t make a sound, not allowing myself to show such weakness.

  Don’t rush your attacks, Jaevia and you won’t have to suffer through this, I remind myself. When the cleaning is done, I stand up while Peterus starts to wrap the bandage around my body. The cut is from my right shoulder across and down my back to my left hip. Not really sure the fucker tried to pull his strike at all. Sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.

  Peterus is behind me and I send Sherry to get me a clean bra and shirt. My breasts are peaked in desire, not for Peterus but for Sherry. I want her badly, bored or not, the liquid fire still pouring from her calls out for my attention.

  “Hold up your arms.” I take a step further into the middle of the room to give Peterus easier access around my body. It gives me a perfect vantage as the door opens and the bane of my existence walks in.

  Chapter Three

  Lucien Hari Ramzia, my supposed Kindred Mate fills the doorway. Half sun god, Lucien is just a large man, deep brown skin pulled tight over an authoritarian frame, heavily muscled, death incarnate walking. He’s the number one Reaper in my class, he’s already training Free Fall, I think jealously.

  “Did I not make myself clear, Jaevia!?” Yup that’s Lucien, stomp around, demand, and yell.

  “Did I not make myself clear?” I answer stepping away from Peterus, my breasts bare and peaked in desire.

  “I smell you.” He stomps forward and gets right in my face. “Did he fuck you?” His voice carries death on the wind.

  “Not yet,” I answer in a voice just as dangerous.

  Lucien and I had been some sort of friend to one another before he was named as my Kindred mate the day of my eighteenth birthday. I’d wanted someone easier to get along with, someone that wouldn’t try and control me. Someone that won’t be named the top Reaper of my class. Instead I got Lucien, the polar opposite to all the things I want in a mate.

  His golden eyes burn with fire, with anger. “Clear the room,” he orders.

  “Jaevia?” Peterus’s voice comes with power behind it. He’d fight Lucien, and he’d lose. He and Lucien are friends, however, or as close to friends as is possible for Lucien. I’d be a shit to start a fight between them.

  “It's fine, the beast can finish wrapping the wound.” I turn then so he can see why I’m naked.

  “Jaevia Knightley, you will put on your cuff now!” I give a lopsided smile to Peterus, he grins shaking his head.

  Peterus and Sherry make their way to the door. I tell her to come back tonight so I can train her more, for m
y pleasure. She thanks me and leaves quickly as well.

  “She’s the only one I’m fucking, if you must know.”

  Lucien grunts and walks over to the table and pours a glass a wine. I’m surprised, he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t do anything fun. The tight leather pants and plain black T-shirt accentuate his form, he does have a certain virile attraction about him, if you like large men. His cock is huge. I’d seen it when we all went swimming together some years ago. He walks back and shoves the glass towards me.

  “Drink,” he commands. I raise an eyebrow and drink the entire glass down while looking at him.

  “Now put your cuff on, heal, and take your punishment.”

  “What!?” I almost cough up the wine.

  “Tabari needs us. But first you must be punished. I was there when you promised to train Free Fall no longer. You must be beaten, ‘tis my duty as your mate to see the deed done. I will only use my hand as a kindness.”

  I stand there in shock. The Beast never ceases to amaze me.

  “What?” I say dumbfounded.

  “I know not the details, you would’ve known if you were wearing your cuff, Wench. He called for us an hour ago. Instead, you are here having some twisted threesome with Peterus and a slave!”

  “I wasn’t fucking anyone, asshole!” I’d taken a shine to human lingo, I especially like the way they swear.

  I stomp over to the chaise and grab my cuff, sliding it onto my arm. The power rushes into my Chi, thick and hot, I moan over the feel of being connected to the Sunstone. My back immediately begins to heal. Lucien’s hand grabs me by my hair. His hand comes around unbuttoning my pants.

  “Stop, Lucien, stop!”

  “I can’t, Jaevia, I can’t now. You make me so fucking angry, shut up. I’m doing all I can to control myself, to not thrust into you and claim you as my own. That would be rape, and I’ll not let you turn me into such a monster. So shut the fuck up and take your beating!”

  He twists me and sits down on the chaise, forcing my pants down and bending me over his knee. I grow wet at the feel of his dominance, his claiming me. I hate that my body loves it. I hate it to my core.

  The first strike makes me cry out, after that I grit my teeth against the pain, fifty strikes across my ass. He’s quick and proficient, but I feel him grow hard under my belly. So much for infinite control then. My ass is hot, throbbing in pain, my spirit subdued in embarrassment as I, bad ass Reaper in training, Jaevia Knightley, receives a spanking.

  “I hate you,” I whisper as he allows me to stand once again.

  “I know, Jaevia, I know.” His voice sounds sad.

  “It’s hard. You think I want to break promises to you and Tabari? To anyone?! I have to train Free Fall. I have to try or I won’t make it. I have to take the risk.” People get cut from the Reaper program daily. I make it because I’m good, because I show no fear, no weakness. I brush the horrid tear that betrays how tired I am of it all from my face and go to find a clean bra and shirt.

  My rooms only sport a living room area and bedroom, a simple door between the two areas. I haven’t advanced far enough to warrant my own restroom. I do have a large Queen bed, with an intricate wrought iron frame that climbs up the wall at the head of the bed. I’ve tied many to it for my pleasure, four iron posts, no canopy. It’s a bed made to be tied to, to be tormented upon. It’s a bed made for a succubus. It’s the one thing I allow myself. I only sleep with slaves and only as the top, never the bottom. Most importantly, only women, I would be disgraced and banished for giving anyone other than my Kindred Mate my virgin’s blood.

  Slave women are no threat in my war to become a Reaper, no matter how much I may crave to be taken as a bottom, to supplicate in womanly submission, I cannot. Yet something else I do to hide my true nature, the curse I was born with, the curse of being a succubus.

  Why doesn’t Beast understand this? That I cannot have him as a mate because it would change how others view me. I would stop being seen as independent, as strong. I would be seen as Lucien’s private little well trained Reaper whore. No, I need a mate that I can control, one where I will be the dominant.

  Lucien has never had to prove he was a warrior. He’s always been accepted. Me? I’m made fun of and ridiculed everywhere I go. Sexual advances constantly, because that’s all I’m good for. Well, at least that’s slowed down quite a bit, no one but the truly foolish want to anger Lucien, since he’s been named my mate only the horniest of the Reapers in training still play their horrid game. I don’t even hint at a complaint that would give them power.

  I put on a fresh bra and a black T-shirt. I look at myself in the full-length mirror, anger and pain radiate from my purple eyes. I hate that they shine with unshed tears. My ass has already healed from the damage Lucien has caused my body, but not the damage to my heart. How can I ever see myself with Lucien? I just can’t, he doesn’t understand me and he doesn’t even try to.

  I brush one of the smaller gems on my cuff whispering Tabari’s name. It links me directly to him. A human cellphone of sorts, instead it rides on waves of magic.

  “Brother?”

  “Where have you been?!” Tabari’s voice comes clearly into my mind.

  “Sorry, I didn’t have my cuff on, where can we meet you?” I speak out loud, everyone tells me I don’t have to, but it makes me more comfortable for at least part of the conversation to be had outside of my head.

  “Sub level three, Magi side.”

  “On our way.”

  I grab my blades and strap them in their sheaths to my thighs. My da had them commissioned for me when I’d told him I wanted to be a Reaper. They are my most prized possession. The pommels small, the blades made with heavy amounts of silver and magic, they will never dull or tarnish, they cut true. I’ve been training to fight with them since I was six. I’m most comfortable with them.

  I turn; Lucien is standing in the doorway to my living room area.

  “I am sorry, Jaevia. I should have offered to train Free Fall with you. Instead I forced you to turn to another man.”

  “That’s what you’re apologizing for?!” I brush past the Beast and stomp out the door.

  He follows behind me as I make my way to the portal. The hallway is empty still. It’s a living quarter’s level, there’s not much movement down here ever.

  “What do you believe I should apologize for?” He’s truly perplexed.

  “Beating me maybe? I am not your child! I do not belong to you!”

  “You shall not say such things to me, Jaevia, and you do belong to me. You are mine.”

  “Why? Because we were paired? So what!? I’ll find a way to have it changed.” I’ve already written to my Da asking him how to proceed, there is a precedent of Kindred matings being dissolved and new matches found.

  “It is not up for discussion, I am your mate. You would do well to remember that, and that I will kill any man that has what belongs to only me. You are hot for the feel of a man betwixt your thighs. Let this childish argument be over and give yourself to me, I will be good to you, Jaevia. I will protect you and cherish you, if you’d only submit.”

  “Fuck off, Lucien.”

  “Not before I fuck you.” He slams me up against a wall, my palms slap the marble, and my breasts are pressed against the cold stone. I hate that I moan out loud.

  “There we go, shush now, love. I know what you need, Jaevia, I know what you need.” He unbuttons my pants and stuffs his hand down them, parting my engorged wet folds easily. He rubs my bud of nerves slowly, achingly slowly.

  “Always so hot, Jaevia, always so ready.”

  “Please, Luey,” I whimper out, I need to come now, I need to come, he’s rubbing too slowly, too softly to topple me over the edge, and he knows it.

  “You know what it’ll cost you, baby,” he nuzzles my neck I’m flooded with the smell of shea butter and honey. I lean my head to the side, giving him better access, he bites my skin lightly. My own scent leaks from me to blend with his, I smell of dar
k chocolate and oranges.

  “No, Lucien no, I won’t say it.” I deny myself the words, the pleasure. I deny myself my own heart’s desire. Every time I say the words I feel myself slipping further and further under his control.

  “Very well,” he starts to remove his hand. I grab his wrist to hold him there. I scream out in frustration and anger and pound the wall with my fist as his fingers tease my bud.

  “Please don’t make me say it Luey, please don’t, please Luey.” I beg him.

  “Why is it so hard for you to speak the truth? Even if your mind won’t accept it, I’ve already conquered your body. Say the words, Wench, say the words and have your treat.” His argument sounds so rational, my body is his whether I want it to be or not.

  “I belong to you.” I whimper out as my body betrays me again.

  “Good girl.” He only has to rub me once, hard and slowly, and I come apart in his arms in a million pieces, pleasure bursting from every synapse in my body, ringing out with joy. He’s training my body to come on his command, when I say his words. I hate that he’s so good at it. I hate that no matter how much I fight him, he still finds a way to force me to submit to him, if not in the day to day, then at least in sex. He holds me as my legs turn to jelly with the force of the release. No one can bring me like Lucien.

  He’s right, my virgin blood belongs to him, and no man can have me before he makes his claim. It’s just another archaic tradition of the Kindred. I swore to be gay, to go without a man to only have women if only to avoid having to sleep with Lucien. But it’s becoming harder and harder to say no, the Kindred mating cannot be undone once my virgin blood is taken. I push away from him, fixing my pants, hating him with a renewed passion. Hating myself for greedily taking the pleasure he offers; like a common whore.