by Marian Tee
We will serve you until the day we die, Your Grace, Mihail said simply.
And then they were gone, leaving Silviu alone, as he was destined to be when faced with his death.
For a long moment, Silviu remained standing there, lost in his own memories. He cut a tall and proud figure with his traditional elegant clothes, his chiseled features bearing the stamp of his royal lineage.
Yet the most arresting part of Silviu Draghici was the aura that surrounded him, invisible yet intoxicating, the rawness of his sexuality akin to a brush of heat against the skin of any woman within a one-mile radius.
Even with the isolating sense of loneliness gripping Silviu, he remained a man who beguiled without even trying. Every inch of him was perfection – the broad shoulders, the rock-hard chest, the long and strong legs…and because he was the son of Lilu, the greatest incubus of all, a woman did not need to see Silviu naked to be aroused. Just one blazingly hot look from his eyes could easily rival the pleasure she would derive from another man’s cock. Just one fucking look…and she would come, and come, and come.
A neighing sound made Silviu look up, and the heaviness inside him eased a little as his trusted steed came close. “One final run, eh?”
The horse nodded its head. As one of the last living descendants of Pegasus, Granite possessed not only wings concealed within his shiny coat but also the ability to bond with chosen beings.
Once Silviu was on his back, Granite ran, his thundering hooves scattering pebbles in his wake. They traveled with blindingly fast speed, turning demon duke and horse into a shadowy blur as they half-flew, half-galloped through the Woods of the Wraiths.
Granite slowed down upon reaching its borders on the west, the inhospitable towering cliffs overlooking the sprawling city of Brimstone. Normally filling his heart with a deep-seated joy, the sight sharpened Silviu’s loneliness.
Sensing his master’s mood, Granite moved tensely underneath Silviu, nostrils flaring.
“Easy, boy,” Silviu murmured, stroking Granite’s flanks before pulling the reins back so that the horse would retreat a safe distance from the cliff.
He told Granite quietly, “Let’s go home.” Silviu had to say his farewells to his other subjects, however painful it may be. And the kingdom had to be protected at all costs, which required Silviu to name an heir before he surrendered to the Light.
As Granite turned towards the secret path leading to Silviu’s castle, the unexpected cracking of broken twigs whispered to Silviu, forcing both duke and horse to become still.
“Fuck.” The word, coming out quite crisp, was spoken by a distinctly feminine voice.
One noble brow shot up, Silviu unable to believe that within the Woods of the Wraiths, a place most otherworlders dared not venture into at this time of the night, a human girl walked alone.
Did this girl know she was past the safe borders? Humans were meat here. Silviu’s subjects were predators at heart. They would tear this girl apart limb by limb at the sound of her approach, feasting on her flesh and gnawing on her bones until there was nothing left for her family to mourn.
“Dammit.”
As the girl continued to throw out invectives, Silviu inhaled deeply, needing to know more about her. Her scent came to him, fearless, untamed, and utterly innocent. The scent was immensely tantalizing to his kind, whetting Silviu’s appetite. For so long his desires for the flesh had slumbered, the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders burying them deep.
The scent lingered. Lust struck. Silviu shuddered.
I guess I deserve one last good fuck before I die.
And it would be a very good fuck, for the scent calling out to Silviu was so sweet it could only be from the most nubile of virgins, one whose fiery passions could only be coaxed to burn by the right man.
Most times, Silviu did not care to be Lilu’s son. Tonight, he would use it to his advantage, intent on fucking this sweet temptation to within an inch of her sanity. He would take her, over and over, until Silviu’s name became the only word she could utter.
The girl was speaking again. His eyes widened. Was he truly hearing…?
Silviu’s head cocked to the side as he focused his senses on the girl-woman – she seemed like it, someone who was of the right age but whose innocence made her smell and feel so much younger.
She was still miles away, but she was also making good time. She was halfway into the woods now, unknowingly treading on increasingly thinner ice the deeper she lost herself in this part of Chalys.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Ah, so he had heard right.
“Shitty…damn…luck!”
She truly was not yet done cursing.
Silviu’s lips curved into a smile, the wickedness of it like the most forbidden of caresses. This girl-woman had the dirtiest mouth he had ever encountered – a trait Silviu usually disliked in his women, but with her it was fucking sexy, incomprehensibly so.
“Goddamn shitty…” Click. Click. Click.
The sound slashed the smile out of him.
“Why won’t you work?” Presumably, the girl was talking to her camera. Her camera – which was one of the things all visitors were expressly forbidden to bring into his city.
Each clicking sound chilled Silviu’s blood further, killing the heat of his lust. His incubus side retreated, leaving the cold-blooded angel in control. Now, Silviu did not view her as a desirable woman. Now, he simply saw the human as a possible threat to the safety of his city and his subjects.
Silviu leapt from his horse’s back, landing gracefully on the ground without a sound. At his nod, Granite followed his lead and emulated Silviu’s silent, stealthy footsteps.
As the distance between him and the human diminished, her curses also became more colorful. It seemed as if she was still trying to make her camera work, judging by the repeated clicking sounds of her camera’s button.
You will pay for this, naughty, naughty girl.
The wind howled as Silviu came nearer. The tall swaying trees bent closer towards the human, a sign of curiosity from the wraiths living within the trunks. The leaves rustled - a ploy to mask their whispers and murmurs. Silviu’s curiosity intensified. Why were they not striking her down? Their bloody history had made them feral and distrustful by nature. More often than not, humans who foolishly entered the woods were never to be seen again.
But this human---
“I don’t understand you.”
Silviu shook his head as he unsheathed his sword from his back, the weapon an intrinsic part of his body. This girl was amusing – uniquely so - with the way she constantly talked to inanimate objects. It would be a pity if he had to kill her.
“Is it because I’ve neglected you for years? Is that it? You were jealous and now it’s payback time?”
The words made Silviu’s shoulders rock with mirth even as he sliced the air with his sword, flicking his wrist left and right. It was rare for a human to make him laugh, but this one did effortlessly without even knowing it. If she was indeed a threat, he would be merciful and kill her quickly.
“Look at the damn moon. I’m begging you. Don’t you want to capture it? Don’t you?”
Silviu positioned himself behind the last cluster of trees, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. Here, his vision of her was limited to the splinters of space between the intersecting leaves of drooping branches. Even so, it was more than enough. This close, he could kill her with one swift strike.
The girl sighed, and she turned in his direction.
Silviu whitened, his heart shuddering to a stop. Slowly, his arm lowered to his side, the tip of his sword pricking the ground.
It was her.
So many different places Silviu had roamed in the last century of this millennia, so many moments he had wasted wooing women from every race – demon, angel, vampire, shapeshifter – he had dwelled among all of them, hoping against hope the Heavens would grant his wish.
Yet no matter where or how hard Silviu had
looked, his soul had remained untouched, not one woman of the thousands who had experienced ecstasy in his arms able to make Silviu’s heart clench in recognition of a potential mate---
Until now.
Until this human.
So many fucking years, Silviu thought, his lean hard body trembling in relief. No fucking wonder he had not found his heartkeeper in his travels – how could it be so when she had found her way to him on her own?
She sighed again, and the sound rippled through Silviu like an intimate embrace. His throat dried, his muscles tensed, and his cock hardened to life. Silviu ached to touch her but knew he had to take his time. Returning his sword back to its secret place, he continued staring at her, his hunger knowing no bounds.
Her hair was dark and luxurious, but it was almost comically arranged in a tightly twisted bun at the very top of her head, almost like a toupee. She straightened, and the shape of her gloriously full breasts made itself evident even against her unflatteringly loose clothing - a baseball jersey and faded jeans.
This girl was his heartkeeper. This girl could be his to fuck for eternity. Desire rampaged through his body as the words played in Silviu’s mind. He wanted to start now, wanted to start fucking her right this very moment, wanted to take her hard on the ground, have her bend halfway from the waist so he could penetrate her pussy with his cock from behind, lift her up and have her long legs wrapped around him---
“DAMMIT, Paula, cooperate, please!”
Silviu shook his head, the words snapping him out of his lust-drugged reverie.
Looking back at the woman who could be his destined bride, he saw that her turquoise eyes were now bright with irritation. She glared at her camera, her cheeks flushed, its rosy color made more delectable by the porcelain perfection of her skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck---”
His future duchess, who from here on he would think of as Little Miss Potty Mouth.
A laugh escaped Silviu, the very softest sound, but the wraiths heard it and they cackled with him. Leaves on the ground crackled, roots crawled deeper into the soil, and the trees bent even lower – all in the space of a second.
This time, the girl noticed.
She screamed. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
Little Miss Potty Mouth, indeed.
Chapter Two
Here is my first snapshot of the Woods of the Wraiths.
And yes, those are honest-to-goodness-I’m-not-shitting-you SOLDIERS you see guarding the gates.
Apparently, this place is like, umm, Umbrella City. But instead of zombies you have vengeful…well…wraiths. And highwaymen. I kid you not. Highwaymen!
It’s “forbidden” territory after sunset, but Iet’s see if I can “steal” a shot at night.
#sneakybastardgirl #WoW #itsnotworldofwarcraft #punkD
Something was very wrong.
The knowledge came out of nowhere, the realization making George stop cursing. Her fingers tightened around her Polaroid like it was a self-defense weapon. If it came down to it – she probably would use the Polaroid as some kind of weapon, like a mace. After all, the all-steel custom housing of her camera should be able to do some damage.
Next time, George thought, I’m going to request for pointed bits for additional protection.
She really should have listened to her instincts. But then – that was always what her father told George to do, what her father always did – and look where that got him: missing and presumed dead in the ancient wilds of Romania.
The faintest sound of laughter trickled towards George.
Her head shot up, and it – everything – happened all of a sudden and all at the fucking same time. Leaves scraping against the ground without a wind to make them dance, roots fucking crawling like wooden snakes, and goddammit – was she going crazy or did those trees actually bend towards her as if needing to hear her talk?
George screamed.
Of course she screamed.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
And then she ran – well of fucking course she fucking ran!
Soon, all George could hear was the sound of her own heavy breathing and even heavier footsteps. She was getting tired and slowing down. She had the best damn sense of direction, needing no fucking compass to know which direction was true north – but for some reason she was lost.
She was so fucking lost.
Forcing herself to stop, body tensing and shaking alternately, George strained her ears for any kind of sound that would indicate she was being stalked. But there was silence – the very deepest kind, and it worried her even more.
Okay, think. What can I do to find my way back?
Look for true north.
Yeah, I can do that.
But ten seconds later, George was halfway to becoming hysterical. There were no fucking shadows, no way to see the stars – it was as if every goddamn tree in the Woods of the Wraiths was conspiring against her, needing to keep George in the dark.
Goosebumps formed on her arms.
She was a paranormal photographer. In her almost 25 years of life, she had never really seen a ghost but it didn’t mean they did not exist. It didn’t mean humans were the only ones in the world.
Okay, let’s think again. If all this had a supernatural source, how do I get myself out?
Apologize to elementals she might have offended.
Out loud, she said, “I’m sorry if I offended any one of you – I swear to God it was unintentional.”
Always remaining just a few feet away from his future duchess, needing to make sure she was all right, Silviu blinked at the first words that came out of her mouth when she stopped – presumably to rest or to gather her thoughts.
Her voice only shook at the end of her unexpected apology, impressing Silviu with her composure and courage. This boded well for them. Brimstone did not need a coward for a duchess, and he did not definitely need one as a heartkeeper.
But --- why was she apologizing?
Nothing was happening, George thought numbly. Panic was starting to choke her, but she ruthlessly pushed it aside.
Let’s try it again, George.
Look for true north.
But there were still no shadows, not even one damn star to help her find it.
Could this be a dream – a nightmare she needed to wake up from?
George slapped her face several times.
Silviu’s jaw dropped. Now she was fucking hurting herself? Maybe…maybe she was more nervous than he thought. But before he could take a step towards her, the girl whispered furiously to herself, “Wake up, wake up, dammit!”
Slap, slap, SLAP.
Silviu winced – for her.
“Ouch.”
He tried not to roll his eyes. Of course that would hurt. She had slapped herself – hard.
“Please be a fucking dream, please,” the girl muttered.
SLAP.
He winced again.
“Ah, shit, this isn’t a dream.” George rubbed her now-stinging cheek. God, that hurt! The thought made her look up with a scowl. Damn---darn it, God, couldn’t You just have sent me a sign that this was not a dream?
She shook her head. Never mind. She checked her watch and was stunned to realize that only a little over an hour had passed since she left The House. It felt like she had been lost forever.
Get a grip, George. Let’s solve this.
She had tried to look for true north – and it was impossible. She had tried apologizing to elementals that might be lurking around – and nothing happened. What else could it be? She racked her brains for another solution, whether it was practical or paranormal. It didn’t fucking matter.
All she wanted – needed – was a way out.
George went through all the stories she had amassed over the years, the legends, the myths, and the hearsays, all of them passed on to her as the most terrifying bedtime stories by her mother Basiange.
Unlike most mothers, Basiange didn’t do fairy tales and happily-ever-after endings. Ins
tead, she had encouraged George to consider every shadowy corner as a hiding place for something outside the realm of the ordinary. When she was tucking George in for the night, she would often tell stories that were terrifyingly exciting, and one of them had been about…
Oh! That could work, George thought feverishly as she recalled one particular Philippine legend Basiange had shared with her.
Once upon a time, elementals dwelled deep in the forests, and they were not the nice kind. Instead of wings like butterflies and faces like angels, they had veined fleshy wings like bats and claws and razor sharp teeth like monsters.
They trapped humans for food by causing them to hallucinate, and the only way to escape their nightmarish worlds was to wear one’s shirt inside-out, a symbolic ritual to “right” one’s world and return to reality.
George took several deep breaths. It was worth a shot, she told herself. No matter how silly it sounded. Anything was worth a damn shot because she had no plans of dying tonight.
Clutching the end of her baseball jersey, George began to take it off.
WHAT THE FUCK?
Silviu could not believe the sight unfolding before him. Was she fucking serious? Was she fucking insane? Was she really going to fucking show the world what belonged to his eyes alone?
It didn’t matter that only the wraiths could see her, or that all of the wraiths were once nymphs far more beautiful than any human girl could be.
She was his future duchess, his destined bride, his heartkeeper.
She was HIS.
Look away. He issued the command silently to the wraiths, infusing the words with the strength and power that came with his bloodline as the Duke of Brimstone.
The wraiths moaned at the command, the trees shuddering at the sound and shedding leaves just as the girl whipped her top off.
Silviu stiffened.
“NO!” A scream ripped itself out of her throat as George suddenly found herself captured within a stranger’s embrace, strong arms wrapping around her body as he flew – oh my God, had she just imagined that? Was she imagining this? Maybe taking off her jersey wasn’t enough? Maybe the darker forces were too strong and she had to get butt naked in order to defeat them?