But if Calavia had been here since Prayer’s death, then how old was she really? Humans could live much longer lives on this side of the wall if they were safe, but all alone? It didn’t add up.
He didn’t know the extent of her powers, or how strong her affinity was for wax, but in his short time in her element, he realized several things…
Nothing in the swamp produced wax which meant her supply was limited. It would not account for her power weakening like she had mentioned, but it may be a part of the problem. If he had to guess, Calavia needed the wax as a crutch, especially if all she knew of her own powers were mostly self-taught. But then again, nearly everything in his world that had magic was self-taught. There were no instructors here.
Another thing was her courage, especially when it came to him.
No single being in the labyrinth would dare seek to control or fight him the way she had, which meant up until now, she had never had a reason to fear, totrulyfear death and torture at the hands of another.
She has been safe for far too long in a dangerous and unforgiving land.The thought of losing that safety would incite a crazed fear in itself. He had seen it, had been there himself when he was but a calf in his mother’s arms.
Astegur set down the wood in his hand and sheathed his axe. The green orbs of light in the distance seemed to pierce brighter through the fog as the sky darkened. The thralls around him continued as if the descent of night meant nothing to them.
He watched them for a while as their pallid, limp skin shone like beacons in the darkness.If Calavia has been here since the beginning, then why isn’t she a thrall as well?
Questions needled his thoughts, and the more time he spent caught up in her world, the more he wanted to rip her open and unearth her answers.
Astegur snarled. He would rather fight to the death than become a thrall himself. Even if his master was a beautiful female.
His hand tightened into a fist as his cock twitched. It was raw from rubbing out his seed after he had left Calavia bound and naked.
He had wanted to rut her and exert his dominance. He had been so close to doing it when her tit had grown taut between his fingers. He’d wanted to press her into her wax and suckle her breasts as he forced his prick between her pretty, pale thighs. He knew why he wanted his prick inside her but not why he felt such dark satisfaction at the thought. She could not empower him like a real human could…but perhaps he would keep her anyway. The hag could take his brutality until the day he went to the barrier lands and captured a pure blood.
It would be delicious punishment.
Astegur grunted, his cock solidifying even further, pushing his loincloth aside again. He reached down to palm himself as another thrall trailed by him, dragging a rotting beam of wood through the muck behind it. He needed Calavia to give them another order. He had tried himself, but they ignored him.
He squeezed his shaft once more and turned to the temple corridor, heading towardher.
He expected to see her furious and mostly free from her bonds by now, ready to throw a bowl of molten wax in his face, but that was not what greeted him. His nostrils flared and his muscles popped as he came to an abrupt stop at the front of her altar room.
She sat slumped on the ground before her altar, vines tangled around her belly. Her head was tipped to one side, her eyes were hooded, and her hair hung around her naked body in waves, its thick, black strands framing the moonlit skin of her body. The hag was stunning, nothing like a hag at all.Why would anyone call her such a thing?
His hands twitched at his sides as his gaze roamed over her bound form. His mouth watered. Her position was enough to stop any male in his tracks, but it was her partially spread legs that ensnared him.
All thoughts of the thralls left his skull. He took a hesitant step toward her, uncertain if this was a trick, but the sound startled her eyes up to his, and she moaned his suspicions away. His vision tunneled as a need burned like abyssal flame in his gut.
Calavia moaned again softly, shifting her position just enough to reveal her clutching her cunt and the wetness glistening across her thighs. Shadows threatened to obscure it, and he crossed the remaining distance between them to tower over her.
“You have had a day to free yourself.” He searched the vines that bound her and found no tears, only some fibrous shreds around her wrists. “I did not expect…”
She lifted her face and shifted slightly to bring her legs inward. He wanted to snatch her ankle and open her up.
“My body is leaking,” she said.
His gaze dropped back down to where she clutched herself. His nostrils flared again, as he filled himself with the thickly potent scent of musk and arousal. “You have coaxed it from your cunt.”
Calavia nodded. “Yes, but not at first. I was wet when you left, and now…” Her voice lowered to a whine. “Now it will not stop.”
Astegur tsked. “You have never lubricated yourself before?”
“No.”
Stumbling, heavy, wet footfalls of the thralls sounded behind him, breaking the curiously delicious moment. Calavia stiffened, rising up as much as she could, hiding her desire from him. Astegur spun and snarled at the undead humans behind him. They did not flinch or look his way, their vacant eyes focused fully upon Calavia.
And to his horror, he saw several of the male thrall’s pricks rise and lengthen. Much like his own had done by the sight of her alone. He moved between them and Calavia, ready to fight for the right of being near her in such a state.
He wasnotone to share.
