“More!” I moan and he continues to play with them, squeezing and pulling them until my skin is stretched to the max.
It’s never been this rough between us. I mean, I know it can get a lot rougher, I’m not that innocent, but this is new. But it fits.
I leave his mouth and draw my lips along his cheek until I reach his neck. Like a vampire, I latch onto his skin and bite. I wouldn’t be surprised if I suddenly grew fangs, but alas, that is not a skill Demigoddesses seem to possess.
I don’t draw blood but I love the feeling of my mouth on his skin, my teeth pressing against his flesh. Leaving one hand on my left breast, squeezing it tightly, he opens my trousers with his other, managing to pull down the zip. He slips inside and almost immediately, one finger enters my core. I moan loudly as he moves it in me, exploring my innermost sanctum.
I forget all about biting him, instead I hold onto his shoulders and arch my back to give him better access.
Without warning, I’m lifted into the air until I’m hovering just above him. Magic while having sex? Who would say no to that?
With me in the air, Storm gets up and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard erection. He takes off his shirt as well and I almost begin to drool. How do I deserve someone as gorgeous as him?
When he’s naked, he looks at me as I float in front of him. My breasts are exposed, my trousers open but still mostly in position.
“Don’t move,” he says and steps forward, gently touching my cheek with two fingers. “You’re beautiful.”
He walks around me, his fingers trailing a line on my skin. When he reaches my feet, he slips off my shoes and begins to pull down my trousers. I’m still wearing my panties, wet with my own juices. He leaves them on and steps back again, inspecting me from a distance. I move my arms as if I’m swimming, hoping to move towards him. I want his touch, I need it.
“Don’t,” he whispers. “Stay, I like seeing you like that.”
I moan in frustration but stop trying to move. The air is holding me in place, and even though I’m hovering several feet above the ground, I trust Storm completely. I’m safe with him, he won’t let me fall.
He continues to walk around me, inspecting me from every angle. What is he doing? I have to admit though that it feels really quite erotic, being looked at like that. His eyes are hungry and it’s obvious that he’s having to hold himself back from ravishing me. At least that’s what I’d like to think that expression on his face means. The dilated pupils, the furrowed brow, the small gap between his lips. Perfection.
“Touch yourself,” he says, quietly but firmly. Oh, is he going to be all dominant now?
I’d rather he come over here and plunge into my depths... but I’m sure that’s going to come at some point. I slip a hand under the rim of my panties and begin to draw small circles over my bud. I’m wet and ready for a lot more than just my fingers. I slide one finger into myself, then add another while my thumb still continues to rub. I moan as I’m starting to find my rhythm. If I wanted, I could come any moment now. But no. I’m going to wait for Storm.
Surprisingly, the air supports me as I arch my back and spread my thighs further. Storm walks a few steps until he stands at my feet with a perfect view of what I’m doing.
“Please,” I whisper, hoping that he’ll know what I mean.
“Not yet.”
“I’m so close, I need you!” My whisper turns into a whimper as I slow down my pace to prevent myself from climaxing too soon. That bastard, torturing me like that.
“You’ll manage,” he chuckles and I moan as I see him touching himself. He strokes his length while watching me push two fingers into my depths. He’s hard and erect. Beautiful. He was created as a perfect man, and here I am, with him, separated by nothing but air. Of course I could use my magic to get closer to him, to break the spell he’s put over me, but that’s not what I want. I’ll wait for his permission.
“Add another finger. Prepare yourself for me,” he instructs and I do as he says. I’m wet enough that it’s not too much of a stretch at first, but when I start to move my hand back and forth, I do feel how tight I still am. But Storm has fit before and he will again.
Hungrily he watches me and I capture his gaze, willing him to come to me.
And then he does.
With two strides he’s between my legs and I push my panties to one side just in time for him to enter me. Waves of pleasure run through me as he begins to move, setting a fast rhythm from the start. This isn’t soft and romantic, this is a claiming, passionate and firm. He grips my hips and pulls me close with every thrust, slamming into me harder and harder.
Tingles begin to spread through my body and I can no longer hold back the moans. Every time he moves in me, I feel our connection grow, as if a part of him is entering me, not just with our bodies, but with our minds.
We ride together to ecstasy, when my wings unfold and wrap around us.
We’re one.
Chapter Five
I wake up and something is wrong. There was a noise that woke me. Was there?
I’m in my bedroom, wrapped in one of the Palace’s amazing blankets that are both light as silk and warm as wool.
Why am I in my bedroom?
Oh yes. Last night. Storm. Lots of Storm.
Where is he? Why is my head feeling so heavy? Did I drink too much? Did we drink?
Strawberries. Yes, I remember those. But would they make my head feel like this?
There’s a strange taste in my mouth. Bitter.
My stomach lurches and I turn to one side, trying to stop the heaving. But too late, I empty the contents of my stomach onto the mattress. My puke is red. That can’t be a good sign.
Weakly, I try to sit up and call for help. I’m ill and I want someone here with me.
There’s a noise again, coming from the corner furthest away from me. A shadow… no, a man. Or a woman, it’s hard to tell. The shape is kind of blurred. I blink, but it stays strangely blurry, just like the rest of the room. Do I suddenly need glasses? What’s going on?
“Who are you?” I whisper, the bile in my throat making my voice almost inaudible.
“I’m Death,” the person says in a rattling voice that makes me shiver. It’s neither male nor female, just flat and cold. I’m beginning to shake as the dark shape comes closer. There’s something in their hand, a vial?
“I am your Death.”
Darkness is taking over my vision and I fight to stay conscious. There’s pain in my head and my body and my skin is starting to itch.
I want to use my magic to get rid of this Death, whoever they are, but I’m too weak, I can’t even access my heart cave. In a last attempt to do something, anything, before the person reaches me, I tug on the bond that connects me to my Guardians, hoping that it’ll be strong enough for them to notice.
Then I can fight no longer and darkness claims me.
I’m on the floor when I wake up. It’s cold and uncomfortable. I was in my bed before, right? Where is my bed? Where am I?
I scramble to my feet and look around. I’m in a circular room with a low ceiling that makes me feel slightly claustrophobic. If I was to stand on my toes, I could easily touch it. The walls are made of doors, dozens of them. There’s nothing between them, it’s one door next to another. They’re all made of the same dull metal that’s rather uninviting. They make me think of prison doors.
“Hello?” I call out, but of course nobody answers. I’m alone here. I walk closer along the wall of doors, trying to see if there are any signs or hints to show where they may lead. Nothing. I don’t even detect a scratch on the metal. They’re flawless and boring.
I do a quick count. Sixteen doors. The room is a hexadecagon (my maths teacher would be proud), but I have no idea if that is relevant.
Sitting here wondering won’t bring me any further. Maybe my magic can help me out? I reach into myself, searching for my heart cave where my magic resides.
I run into a barrier. There’s somethin
g blocking me from reaching the cave. A solid, hard, threatening barrier built around it. I fly through my body, looking for another access. Nothing. I’m blocked from using my magic.
The realisation that I’m without her once more slams into me. Not again. I feel only half like myself without her. Like part of my soul is missing.
Who’s done this to me? Come here so I can kill you. Without my magic. So maybe not kill. More like scratch.
So I don’t have magic and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing here. I can either sit here and wait or choose a random door and explore. And, as I’ve never been someone who likes to stay in one place and be bored, I walk straight ahead and open the first door I reach.
It leads into a brightly lit corridor. The walls and floor are made from the same dull metal as the door, while the ceiling is made of light. Not an electric light, but just... light. It’s cold and unfriendly.
I hurry through the corridor, waiting for it to end. There’s nothing that indicates where it leads. This could be anywhere, except that I have an inkling that it’s magical. So probably not Earth.
At the end of the corridor, there’s another door, just like the ones before. This time, I knock. I don’t know why, it just feels right.
No answer. I press down the handle and push, but nothing happens. It’s locked.
“You need to pull!” someone calls from inside. Embarrassed, I pull and the door opens. Every. Single. Time. At least there’s no push/pull sign here, that would be even more embarrassing. My parents always made fun of me that I ignored those signs and then struggled with opening doors. Guess that hasn’t changed.
I enter a small room that looks like the most stereotypical office you can imagine. Lot of shelves on the walls, overflowing with folders and books. A large desk with stacks of papers, and behind it, an elderly man. He looks human except for his slightly glowing eyes. They remind me of a cat at night. His skin is thin and papery, while his hair is almost gone and the remaining strands are a pale white. He looks like he’s been in this office without sunlight for far too long.
He takes a form from one of the stacks and dips an old-fashioned pen into an inkwell.
“Name?” he asks in a drawling voice.
“What?”
“Name.”
“Wyn. Ehm, Wynter.”
“Surname.”
“Ehm...” Since moving to my mother’s Realm, I’ve not used my adoptive parents’ name anymore. In the Palace, everybody calls me Princess or Your Highness, so I’ve not needed to think about what name to use. It feels strange using that Earth name. It’s no longer me, I’ve changed. I should choose something new, something that fits the person I’ve become.
Something Royal.
“Prince. Wynter Prince.”
“Why are you here, Wynter Prince?”
“You tell me?”
He looks up from the form he’s filling in.
“Please answer my questions. Why are you here?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. I was sleeping, then there was someone who called himself Death, and now I’m here. I didn’t come here voluntarily, so I’d like to leave, please.”
The man’s expression doesn’t change. “There is no person called Death.”
“Yes, I assumed that,” I say in exasperation. “But that’s what he... she... they called themselves.”
“Let’s ignore that question...” He draws a long dash over part of the form.
“Next one: Where are you from?”
“Earth,” I say automatically, then hesitate. “Although I was born in the Winter Realm and am now living there again.”
“Oh, you’re one of Beira’s?” He’s suddenly a little more interested.
“Yes, I’m her daughter.”
Now I’ve got his full attention. “Oh, you’re that Wynter. I’ve got your entry somewhere, give me a moment.”
He gets up and begins to search through one of the largest bookshelves behind him. It holds dozens, if not hundreds of old tombs and volumes, most of them covered in a layer of dust. He runs a finger along their spines, rapidly reading their titles.
On the top shelf, he finally finds what he’s been looking for. He pulls down a book that could have easily been split into several. It’s thicker than any I’ve ever seen.
He opens it and goes through the index.
“Demi-gods of the Realms... yes... Memnon... No... Achilles... No... Tityos... No.... Wynter, Daughter of Beira. There you are. Page 1478.”
He flicks through the pages, ignoring the dust that ascends into the air whenever he turns a page.
“1476... 1478. Wynter.”
He begins to read and I’m tempted to walk around the desk to see what he’s reading. I’m in a book? A very old one at that? A book about Demi-gods? There must be a lot of knowledge in there that could help me. I still don’t know the full extent of my powers. Maybe it’s all in there, maybe even instructions on how I can fulfil my potential. Preferably without hurting anyone. That’s the reason I couldn’t grow up with my mother in her Realm. Demi-gods have killed people before when they came into their powers - accidents, mostly, but not something my mother could chance.
“Very interesting,” the man mumbles, but he doesn’t seem interested in telling me what he’s reading. “Oh yes, that makes sense...”
“Excuse me. Could you tell me what it says in there about me?”
“Huh?”
“I’d like to know what you’re reading. If it’s about me, I’ve got a right to know.”
He looks confused.
“Yes, I guess so. But you’ll have to fill in form 938B for that. Nobody is allowed to borrow a book without first filling in that form. I assume you have a library card?”
I stare at him in confusion. “I don’t suppose you’d accept my Edinburgh Libraries card?”
“Any library card is fine. It’s about the principle, you understand?”
I nod noncommittally. I have no clue what he’s on about.
He hands me a yellow form and a pen. There’s no space to write on his overfull desk, so I use the chair in front of me as a substitute.
Form 938B: Book Loan Contract.
There’s a long list of terms and conditions at the beginning and I only skim them. Paragraph 48 catches my eye though: Non-return of a book may result in decapitation.
Wow, that’s pretty harsh. Being killed for not returning a book to a library?
I read the remaining points a little more carefully, just in case, but none are as extreme as paragraph 48.
At the bottom of the form I fill in the book’s title, my name - using Wynter Prince - and do a quick signature.
“Here you go.” I hand him the form, but he only puts it on one of his overflowing in-trays.
“I’ll look at it later. Now shush.”
“But what am I supposed to do now? How do I get back home?”
He sighs. “Patience. First, I have to register you. Then we need to do some tests. Then you can fill in a release form and then we have to wait for an appropriate transport.”
“Listen, I’m the Heiress to the Winter Throne, daughter of the Mother of Gods. I demand that you bring me home this instant!”
I put all the authority I can muster into my voice, but he doesn’t even twitch an eyebrow.
“Child, here in the Library of Lives, everybody’s equal. We all have to fill in the forms or there’d be chaos. Now sit down and let me work.”
I ignore his request. “The Library of Lives? What’s that?”
He looks up at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “How can you not know where you are? People only get here if they request access... or if they’re dead. And as you’re not translucent, I assume... unless... oh.”
“What?”
“Is this your first death experience?”
I laugh hysterically. “I’m not dead. And I’ve never died before, if that’s what you mean.”
“Ah, that explains a lot.” He smiles and rummages through one of his d
esk drawers until he finds a small leaflet. He hands it to me.
“Read that, it’ll explain things.”
A Guide to Immortality.
There’s a picture of a friendly old woman on the front, but not much else. I open the brochure and begin to read.
Dear Deceased,
It may come as a shock to you that you have died. Don’t worry, this is not the end. Please try not to panic while you read this short Guide to Immortality.
If you’ve been given this leaflet, your advisor assumes that you are eligible for Immortality. This may be because of your heritage, your achievements or your good karma.
Being eligible for Immortality does not make you Immortal per se. You will need the right mindset to be able to apply and be chosen for Immortality. If you are unsure whether you have what it takes, please speak to your advisor.
Benefits of Immortality:
- Indefinite existence
- Immunity to all diseases
- Endless relationships with other Immortals
- Experience millennia of history, evolution and advances
- The power to achieve genuine good
- Making a lot of money.
Disadvantages of Immortality:
- Outliving relatives and friends = centuries of loneliness and grief
- Boredom
- You may experience the world’s end
- Insanity is a possibility.
Please be aware that, while you won’t be able to die from disease, there are ways to kill an Immortal (decapitation, immolation and in extreme cases, starvation). We cannot be held responsible for your life ending earlier than planned even if you have chosen Immortality. For legal advice, please visit your Realm’s Death Lawyer.
I look up from the leaflet in bewilderment. Surely this is a parody? An elaborate joke someone has set up? Immortality is not something you choose. It’s something you have from birth, like Guardians or Gods. In my case, I was never quite sure. Some legends say Demi-gods are immortal, others say they aren’t. What I am sure about is that I’ll have a longer than average life. Unless I get killed.
“How do I... ehm... apply for Immortality?” I ask the old man and he clears his throat.
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