Vincent
First, you took me against the smooth rock wall of your grotto, your eyes glassy with lust as the sirens harmonized to your grunts and moaning. My teeth cut into your neck as you released inside of me, and I came right after with a full-body shudder and your blood coating my tongue.
A few hours later you put me on my hands and knees in the sand. The grit scraped away at the skin of my palms. Fast and brutal. I came too quickly, so I kneeled and you finished yourself with your hand, spraying across my face like a salty mist.
That same night, with the light from the bonfire fading, and me teetering on the edge of sleep, you took me in your hand and then your mouth until I was strung out and feverish with desire. I came down your throat while howling at the moon. And as the last flames of the fire died and only the embers were glowing, I asked you again, “What did you trade Bastet?”
You took a long, measured breath and gazed up at the stars. “I told you already.”
“But you were lying.” I knew you well enough to know when you were hiding something, and there must be a reason you were fucking me like there was no tomorrow.
“We have Thirran’s soul and we’re here together. The revolution looks promising. What more could you want?”
I licked my lips and studied you, calculating my odds. “I’m not fucking you again until you tell me.”
You chuckled and flicked the hair out of my eyes. “And now we’re resorting to ultimatums. Who might you be punishing with that threat?”
“Both of us.” I wanted to bite you and not from thirst. “I need to know, Henri. How else can I protect you?”
You drew me closer, onto the stretch of muscle I liked to use as a pillow, where my cheek fit so perfectly. You smelled so good, and I was tempted to tongue your nipple from this angle, but that would be contrary to my purpose, which was deprive you until you caved.
“It’s late, my little firebrand. There will be plenty of time for us to do battle tomorrow. For now, just close your weary eyes and goto sleep, sleep, sleep.”
I wanted to argue with you, but my eyelids were so heavy, and your body felt so good against mine. Solid and safe. It was impossible to resist your seduction in the state you’d put me in.
“I can’t lose you,” I murmured, already falling asleep.
“I know, my darling.”
We returnedto the mainland the next morning and donned our ceremonial garb for the Tribal Council meeting. When we entered the hall, a strange silence descended as everyone turned to stare, to the extent that I thought I’d forgotten to wear pants. Then Ashur announced, “All hail the sunborn prince, blessed by the queen Bastet,” and dropped to one knee.
Rumor must have gotten around. I was about to respond with something glib when the other tribes followed suit, Mater among them—even Hyas and Aretha took a knee—until I was staring at a sea of bowed heads. The only person not kneeling was Stefan, who used this opportunity to pick his way through the crowd toward the refreshments.
“Hello again, everyone,” I said. I was literally the same person who, a couple of months ago, they’d teased and belittled on the regular. “Nice to see you again. Why don’t we get this meeting started before your knees start to hurt?”
I strolled past the other Council members and took my seat in my designated chair. When everyone was settled, I suggested that Orcus narrate our journey, since he understood the particulars better than you or me. Also, there were gaps in my memory that I hoped that he could fill.
“…and then, after Henri secured the angel Thirran’s soul from the queen Bastet, we returned to the earthen realm. And I can assure the Tribal Council that the Thirran’s soul is in safekeeping until the Thrones return.”
I raised my hand to halt him. “What did Henri pledge to Bastet in exchange for Thirran’s soul?” I could practically feel your heated glare from the back of the room.
“I don’t know, your highness. That arrangement was made without my knowledge.”
“But if you had to speculate, knowing what you know of Bastet and the under realms, what do you believe she would have demanded?”
“A soul for a soul is the custom of the under realms,” Orcus said. I’d known it already, but his confirmation still disturbed me.
I called you up then to stand before the Council and give your formal testimony. Your glower nearly melted my resolve. “The Tribal Council demands to know what you traded in exchange for Thirran’s soul,” I said, using the full authority of my position.
“The Tribal Council will have to be comfortable with the unknown because you’ll need to torture me to get any answers and maybe not even then.”
I glared at you, and you levelled your gaze right back.
“Maybe we will,” I said.
“I wouldn’t make idle threats, your highness,” you warned. “There are those who would surely follow through.”
As if I’d summoned him, Hyas stepped forward and pounded one fist across his chest, the warborn’s gesture of allegiance. “I volunteer to interrogate the bloodborn.”
