In all my countless years, I've never experienced anything like this. The act itself—the joining of bodies, the feeding—is something I’ve done more times than there are stars in the mortal sky. I've had partners of every possible configuration, in numbers that would make even the most debauched mortal blush. I've orchestrated orgies that lasted decades.
Yet here, with this one fragile half-blood nestled against me, I feel something entirely new.
“Are you alright?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed face.
She nods, her breath still coming in short gasps. “I'm... yes. More than alright.”
I press my lips to her forehead, tasting the salt of her sweat. Her orchid and vanilla scent has deepened, mixed now with the musk of our coupling. It's intoxicating.
“We should return home,” I murmur against her skin. “Unless you'd prefer to spend the night in the questionable ambience of Hell.”
Simone laughs softly. “I particularly like the ash particles catching the light.”
“They're interesting for the first couple of hundred years,” I concede with a smile. “Either way, I'd rather have you in our bed.”
Ourbed. The possessiveness in my voice surprises even me. I never shared anything before, not even with my many children or their mothers. I gave them all their own possessions.
I rise to my feet, pulling her up with me. As she adjusts her clothing, pulling on her pants and hiding her sweet cunt from my gaze, I debate how to transport her back to the manor. We could walk, but it would take hours. I could use the ether, but she's not accustomed to it, and it might be painful for her.
“Simone,” I say, making a decision. “There's something I need to show you.”
She looks at me curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side. “What is it?”
I hesitate, but only for a moment, then I manifest my physical wings, shrugging my shoulders as they stretch to their full span.
Simone gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Az...”
“I can fly us back,” I say, watching her face carefully for signs of fear. “It will be faster.”
Instead of terror or revulsion, I see wonder bloom across her features. She steps closer, one hand tentatively reaching out before stopping, uncertain.
“Can I...?”
I nod, extending my left wing toward her. Her fingers are gentle as they trace the edge of a primary feather, sending a shiver down my spine.
“They're beautiful,” she whispers. “I knew you had wings. I mean, you used the feather.” Her cheeks turn red with embarrassment as she thinks of what I did with that feather.WhereI had it. “And I kind of remember you flying me to the cave, though I thought I was hallucinating. But seeing them this close…”
“Very few do,” I say simply, winking at her. It’s the truth—physical wings just slow those of us who can travel through the ether down, so we mostly keep them hidden. “Are you ready?”
Without waiting for an answer, I scoop her into my arms. She squeaks in surprise, her arms automatically wrapping around my neck. With a powerful downstroke, we're airborne, rising above the scorched desert floor.
Simone clings to me, her face buried against my chest at first. But as we soar higher, she gradually relaxes, turning her head to take in the view.
“Incroyable,” she breathes, her eyes wide as she watches the landscape unfold below us. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the only incredible thing in sight.
Once she’s done taking in Hell from above, Simone reaches out, running her fingers along the edge of my wing, making me shiver.
“They change colors in the light,” she observes, mesmerized by the shifting indigo hues. “Like a raven's feathers, but... more intense. More alive.”
I tighten my grip on her, enjoying her fascination. “They serve their purpose,” I say with a smirk. And right now they seem to be—as my nephew would say—scoring points with her.
We fly over the Lethe, its silver waters glimmering below us. In the distance, the mansion I had made for her comes into view, its dark stone walls standing stark against the verdant landscape surrounding it.
“Almost there,” I murmur, vowing to take her on more flights.
When we land on the balcony outside our bedroom, I'm reluctant to set her down. Having her in my arms, feeling her heartbeat against my chest—it's now become precious to me in ways I can't articulate.
Once inside, I fold my wings back, but don't conceal thementirely. Simone watches the movement, her eyes tracking each ripple of muscle and feather.
