by Plum Pascal
Cambion says nothing, his jaw just as tight as it was earlier. Santrewa eyes me with a secretive expression that suggests she not only dislikes my announcement but hopes it to be untrue. Clearly, she’s following in her mother’s footsteps.
Mother and daughter… hmm…
“They are all that is left of my lineage,” Lamia continues, motioning to her daughters. “I risk their lives by bringing them here, not knowing whether you are enemy or ally. Trust must go both ways.” She faces Cambion when she finishes speaking.
He appears unimpressed.
Lamia cocks her hip in a way that makes the span of her waist seem impossibly small—perfect for a man to wrap his hands around as he takes her from behind.
Cambion approaches me then and grips my shoulder. He shakes his head slowly as he whispers: “Don’t be a fucking idiot. Succubae are trouble.”
“You won’t get close enough to deal a killing blow without our help,” Lamia insists. “And imprisonment will mean nothing to Variant. The Seelie Court will never be able to hold him captive if he’s found guilty of betraying the oath. Not when he has the backing of the Unseelie Court.”
“Found guilty?” Cambion repeats. “It’s obvious he’s guilty! He stole the fucking crown for himself! It’s clear to anyone with half a brain that Variant is a sniveling little…”
I spin Cambion around and shove him out of the tent. I’ve had enough of him and his constant shitty attitude.
When we’re out of earshot of Lamia and her daughters, I unload on him.
“Not everyone in the realms believes in us,” I remind him. “Variant has followers, people who are loyal to him even beyond his army of angels. Your own fucking brother fights beneath Variant’s banner.” Cambion winces at the reference, but it’s one he needs to hear all the same. “We may not be given an opportunity like this again.”
“Our plans are already in place,” Cambion argues. “We don’t need the Succubae.”
“If we can’t get close enough to Variant to kill him, all our carefully-constructed plans and strategies will be for nothing. You know that.”
“We don’t need them,” he repeats.
“I believe we do.”
Leaving Cambion to his irritation, I return to the tent just as the others are leaving. Lamia shifts, pressing her ample breasts together, which causes my mouth to salivate as though I’m tempted by the promise of sweet confections.
“I can get you close to him,” she reminds me as she follows me back inside the tent. “Only you can defeat him, Shadow King.” I throw myself into my chair and watch her as she speaks. It’s now just the two of us. “Long before Variant rose to power, it was you who struck fear into the hearts of my people,” she whispers, and she looks up at me in awe.
I roll my shoulders, my chest puffing out with pride. She’s correct, of course. Prior to Variant’s treachery, I was the most powerful of the four kings.
As her lips curl into an appreciative smile, Lamia’s eyes slither from my head to my feet, watching as my muscles flex and strain against the fabric of my shirt.
“And what would you like in return?” I demand as I stand and make my way to her, crowding her space until the aroma of her arousal thickens the air.
“Revenge,” she whispers. “Revenge for my people, for my daughters. Revenge for myself.”
I breathe her in like a rare fragrance, practically tasting her. Even so, as I lean forward to chase her teasing tongue, she presses her palm flat to my chest to hold me at bay. I cover her hand with my own and she slides her long, elegant fingers from beneath mine, tucking a folded piece of paper into my hand.
“Read it once I leave,” she says.
“What is it?” I demand, irritated that she’s delayed my gratification.
“It’s the location where I propose we meet to end this war before the battle begins,” she whispers. “I ask that you meet me there in one hour’s time so we may speak… uninterrupted,” she finishes with a small smile. I understand what she’s offering—herself. “With Variant’s fall, you shall rise again.”
I close my eyes to savor the feel of her warmth seeping into my body. She runs her delicate fingers down the side of my face and when I open my eyes, I find her retreating. A few seconds later, I’m alone. I walk to the entry of the tent and step outside, but there’s nothing and no one to see.
I glance down at the paper in my hand. Unfolding it, I see a crudely drawn map. The directions are easy enough to follow. I retrieve my armor with haste and escape the flickering light within my tent.
Summon Mist, I command.
Roiling fog hovers above my boots before shrouding me in a darkness that rivals even that of the grim night. Soundlessly, I venture closer to the location where Lamia awaits my arrival.
I will be the one to end Variant.
Hope flares in my heart, but it’s faint in comparison to the lust that coils in my veins.
The glory of battle shall be mine to claim... and the Queen of the Succubae with it.
###
Gnarled, twisting trees obscure Lamia from sight, but it’s her scent that leads me to her. She blinks her large eyes at me as I approach, and I note the path of her fingers as they trace the seam of her gown. Those tantalizing fingers pull one strap at a time off her shoulders until her milky white breasts are exposed to my hungry gaze.
The fabric falls from her body to pool at her feet. The view of her is enough to make a lesser man drop to his knees, but I’m no weakling. I let my helmet fall to the sodden earth as my eyes drink their fill of her lush curves.
She will come to me. Not the other way around.
After she walks the few steps that separate us, she assists me in peeling away my gear. I suck in a breath at the touch of her hand against my bare skin. Never before has a woman beguiled me so.
I step out of my boots and follow her descending form to the ground, cushioned by the pile of cloth we’ve discarded. The tight buds of her nipples beg for my mouth and I’m helpless to deny them.
Lamia’s back arches beneath me, hips bucking to rub her silken core against my abdomen. She sighs into the night and it sends tingles down my spine. I cover her abdomen with wet, open-mouthed kisses, trailing down her stomach. My tongue traces her navel before continuing down to the place where her nectar flows.
I spread her tender folds with skilled fingers as I blow cool air on her weeping flesh. Lamia runs her fingers through my hair, tugging slightly.
“Tell me what you want,” I instruct.
Her back bows and she attempts to grind her mound against my chin, but I force her hips to the ground. “Tell me what you want, or you get nothing,” I growl low in my chest.
“Your mouth. I want your m—oh, yes!”
Her thighs tremble beside my ears as she fights my hold even as she grinds her hips against my tongue in an erotic little dance, matching the pulse of my fluttering tongue. Her flavor explodes in my mouth as I set upon her like a starving man presented with a cornucopia of provisions.
“Yes, my king!”
I suck her femininity, as she loses herself in the pleasure I offer. My fingers slide into her spasming channel and she clenches around them as though she’s trying to pull me deeper inside.
I crawl up her body, leaving my fingers buried within her, and finally steal the kiss I’ve been yearning for since she first appeared in my tent. My thick fingers curl inside her, stroking her walls while my other hand fists my raging erection, positioning the crown at her entrance. She stills, closing her eyes as I push forward and my tip spreads her outer lips.
I push harder. The pulsating head of my cock stretches her muscles until I’m seated within her entirely. Warmth wraps around me like liquid fire. I keep her on edge, enjoying the way she shivers as I withdraw only to snap my hips forward in a punishing thrust. Nails scrape down the length of my back, urging me on as I set a rhythm. Heat and lightning spark at the base of my cock and I chase my release.
Lamia screams as her legs shake
and an orgasm claims her. Closing my eyes, I fuck her through the height of her climax until I spill my seed into her quivering womb. As soon as I release myself, light explodes behind my eyelids, but it’s not pleasurable.
This light feels wrong, tainted and hypnotic.
As icy tendrils claw their way into my gut, I feel the need to wretch up my insides. Pain encompasses my entire being, and my feet suddenly feel as if they’re miles from my head. When I open my eyes, I see Lamia smiling up at me.
She whispers, “My people were killed because they were weak. They refused to fight with Variant, the One. True. King.”
A cackle fills my mind as I scramble to get away, but it’s too late.
Like a leech attached to its victim, Lamia sucks the strength from my body until I’m a quivering mess, unable to so much as roll over. A dark song echoes in the recesses of my thoughts, holding me captive and binding me to the vile demon that rests beneath me. The blackness takes over my vision and I lose myself to the incessant depth of the abyss.
Suddenly, my eyes blink open and I can see again. But the images my eyes report don’t make sense to my confounded brain. I’m standing perhaps ten feet from Cambion in a large and open space. Pine trees surround us along the perimeter. I turn to take in my surroundings when the blasts of gunfire cause my heart to jackhammer. This is a battlefield. I don’t understand where I am or how I came to be here. I whirl around again, taking in the flaming scene I find myself immersed in. Fire erupts, scorching the land beneath our feet as Cambion comes barreling toward me.
“Look what you’ve done!” he yells.
Around us, screams pierce the sky as our men fall beneath the might of our enemy. The forces under Variant’s command release a battle cry that causes the world to quake.
“This is your fault,” Cambion roars. He points to the petite figure standing beside the false king.
Lamia.
Unhindered rage boils in my gut as I take in her smug expression, the way her elbow interlocks with Variant’s. All I can see now is Lamia—the witch who misled me, beguiled me, bewitched me.
I stomp away from Cambion, my gaze fixed on the demoness. Holding my broadsword aloft, I carve a bloody path through anyone who stands in my way.
Lamia and Variant wear smiles upon their faces as each of them stares at me in turn.
I shake my head, trying to clear away the cobwebs that cloud my memory.
Why don’t I remember anything? What happened after the she-demon bewitched me? How is it that one moment I was buried within her and the next, I’m here?
I feel a hand snake around my arm and I spin around, ready to make quick work of whoever blocks me from my duty. Cambion glares at me and drops his hold. “We must retreat. If we don’t, we won’t have a chance in hell!”
I shake my head. “I must end this!”
“Listen to me!” the elf commands, his eyes going wide amid the black soot and dirt that covers his face.
“I don’t understand what’s happening!” I scream back at him. All I do understand is this driving force, this pushing need to destroy the woman who attempted to destroy me.
“We’re losing!” Cambion throws the words back at me. “We’re fucking losing! That’s what’s happening!”
I shake my head, unable to understand how this could be. “I don’t remember,” I admit in a small voice as I look down at my hands and fail to recognize my sword, though I know it belongs to me, all the same.
“It was you who convinced us to fight alongside the Succubae,” Cambion explains, his voice calmer now that he realizes I’ve been bewitched and I’ve just now woken from this nightmare. “We rode into war together, but that whore was controlling you!” He points to Lamia, where she and Variant stand, not thirty feet from us.
“Controlling me?” I repeat, still shaking my head. “Last I remember, I was fucking her and… and then…”
Cambion pushes against my shoulders as though he’s trying to move me. But failing, he gives up.
“If we fall... if we lose this battle, all of this blood is on your hands!” he yells at me, slamming his index finger into my chest. “You made me believe she would turn the tides of war, that—”
“I have to be the one to kill Variant!” I repeat the words that suddenly drill through my head, as though they’re the answer to our quandary, as though me being the one to kill Variant will destroy this confusion that’s taken root inside my head. “Lamia says I’m the only one who can...”
Cambion takes a step back, narrowly missing a blade that slashes out at him from a nearby enemy I didn’t even notice was present. He counters the next blow with ease and decapitates the soldier.
“She’s still controlling you,” he says, shaking his head and inhaling deeply.
“No longer,” I yell as I push on, weaving through the bodies that clash into one another. All I can see is Variant. Variant standing there with that smug fucking smile of his. Variant with Lamia beside him. His arm is around her and the two of them mock me as one, laughing and pointing.
A break in rank allows a rare opportunity. Instantly, I go on the attack, charging up the small incline of a hill. Variant stands at the top. When I reach him, Lamia steps in front of him and renders me paralyzed. I stand there, helpless, as she taunts my very existence. I hate her! God, how I fucking hate her! I want to destroy her, want to sever that fucking head off her shoulders. And yet, I can’t wield my blade against her.
I can’t kill her.
“He’s a traitor,” I grouse as I motion to Variant with my sword. “A murderer who turned against his brothers and slew one of us in cold blood. And for what?” I ask emptily, my eyes searching Lamia’s, trying to make her see the truth of the false king. She doesn’t respond, so I continue. “For greed.” I take a breath. “What makes you think he won’t do the same to you?”
“Because I’m not expendable.”
Little does she know—everyone is expendable in Variant’s eyes.
She narrows her eyes and I feel the snare of her power pulling me to her. The tendrils of her magic surround me, sinking into my flesh. Blackness swarms my vision once more as I fight her for control of myself. But her power is incredibly strong.
“Bow to your king,” Lamia orders as Variant cups one of her breasts beneath her gown. Her nipple instantly hardens and he pinches the rosebud as I try to look away but my fucking eyes won’t allow me.
“Bow,” Lamia repeats.
No fucking way! I scream inwardly. I will not fucking bow to this desecration…
But her words act as an order to a body who can’t deny them. Something breaks within me and I feel my knees bending as I drop my sword and fall to my knees, bowing before the false king and the bitch at his side.
“Dragan, no!” Cambion’s voice yells from the distance.
But it’s too late.
My lips curls with unabashed hatred.
Variant grips my chin and turns my head, forcing me to watch as the last of our forces submit. The wounded pride in Cambion’s eyes is too much and I look away, guilt weighing heavily on my putrid soul.
We have lost.
And I am to blame.
###
At first, my banishment to the Gorge in the Shadow Realm feels like a blessing because I have only the darkness to face. And the darkness is much easier to look upon than the disappointment in Cambion’s eyes, or the death stare of Baron’s…
Baron.
I can’t bring myself to think of him… murdered.
But my solitude is not for long. Lamia isn’t done with me yet.
As Variant’s Stewart of Shadow, her sole purpose is to keep me sedated and, as such, less of a threat to the false king. She and her daughters subdue me by feeding upon me all hours of the night and day. I’m no longer the ruler of my own realm, but a pawn of Variant’s making.
I fucking hate him almost as much as I hate myself.
Each day, I awaken to the sight of a Succubus using my body for her pleasure as much
as her nourishment. And I’m incapable of denying any of them. With a touch, my cock hardens to their liking and even though I abhor my traitorous body, it can’t ignore their call.
I’m victim even as I shove my erection into each of them, loving the feel of their slickness and the way their flesh wraps around my stiffness. I take them all three together, I take them separately. I fuck them numerous times a day. As soon as I feel my strength returning, one of them is there to suck it away from me again.
The king I had once been, lowered to the rank of a glorified fuck doll.
They use me, torment me... humiliate me until shame is all I know and all I believe I will ever feel.
And, though I hate them, I love the feel of their flesh as I push into them. I love Lamia’s mouth and the way she sucks out my seed. I love Glodonia’s pert young breasts and the tightness of her slick entrance, the way it clings to me. I love how Santrewa palms my cock and strokes it up and down, even as she whispers to me that I’m weak and hardly a man.
Their power cradles me in tender submission, muffling the memories of watching our legions diminish.
But, this day, all of that changes…
###
A surge of epiphany, or perhaps fate, holds me in its clutches as the warm spray of blood covers my face. I’ve been prisoner too long and my hatred has grown to such a point that it, alone, provides my strength.
Like an Old Norse berserker, I’m nothing more than the ire that drives me. I’ve shed any remaining vestiges of kindness or mercy. Now, the only force within me is one of pure malevolent darkness. Pure wrath. And this darkness feeds my shadow magic, fueling me with a strength I thought long dead.
I pull my blade through Santrewa’s throat and watch her struggle against death as her life-blood empties from her body. I step out of the way of the river of red, lest it soak my feet in her putrescence.