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67
“Crawl to me.”
Heat flares throughout River’s body as she kneels a distance from him, dark eyes fixated on the warlord’s shadowed face. Her lips are slightly parted to which she shuts gently as he arcs a sardonic eyebrow and taps a patient boot on the floor.
River swallows, throat jerking against the dryness and obediently she lowers both palms onto the carpet. As her hands sink into the cushioned floor, blood rises stinging to her cheeks, wide eyes brilliant and unwavering on his dominant countenance.
Slowly, like an obedient puppy, she obeys.
Each movement is slow, her knee rising in tandem to each hand, hips swaying like a swelling tide in the ocean, from side to side. The sheer dress caresses her skin, whispering along the curves of her body and she feels her nubile breasts gently press on her inner arms as she crawls.
He watches her. Hellfire swallowing his gaze in absolute darkness, not once leaving her face as space b
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“She performed a partial shift.”The warlord’s intent, worried stare lifts from his mate currently sitting on the healer’s table, and to the source. The healer stands by his side holding a large leather-bound book with ancient diseases and plagues that befall the Lycans. His hand rises to rub the throbbing spot between his brow, a tension headache bloomed out of fear and pure terror for his mate.Thrice in his life now River has nearly given him heart attacks and high blood pressure.“A partial shift,” he murmurs thoughtfully. Such shifts were rare, one in every five centuries would either be born with the inability to fully shift or a human turned would only grow out their tail and ears.His gaze returns to his mate, now freshly dressed in a clean white shirt and skirt, her bare feet doodling circles on the air below. She is rubbing her ears in wonder, turning her head this way and that whilst staring at her reflection
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Hadrius sighs, “No you’re not.”River’s smile droops, “You have to admit it was a good prank.”Wordlessly he draws her beneath the sheets, worn out not only from the day but her endless antics. For the first time in a long time, Hadrius feels his age. Unable to keep up with her youthful banter and annoyance that is endearing but twists something ageing in him.Her purring picks up in the silence, filling the void as he strokes her hair lethargically. “I have a question for you.”River’s head tilts up in his embrace, searching his face in the darkness.His gaze remains fixated on the wall, then slowly draws down to her. “Would you like to be Luna?”“Luna?” She echoes and he nods.“It’s a title parallel to queen.”“Oh,” he feels her fingers play with his pierced nipple, rolling the barbel back and forth. “No.”
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River crouches low by the tall river reed, her body judders in slight anticipation watching the girl and boy run hand in hand as they periodically cast slight glances over their shoulders.The boy presses her against the tree, the messy fumbling of stark youthful hands is clear as he touches her. River moves slightly in the swamp, swatting at a stray fly that buzzes noisily beside her ear.She is far enough not to be seen, and close enough to gaze in morbid fascination at his calloused, coal stained hand that slides beneath the girl’s dress. It goes higher and higher revealing her soft pale legs, unmarred by scars and coagulated bruises like River’s.There is something sonorous and resonant to their intimacy that grows heated and wild as he touches something hidden beneath the girl’s garments. River knows what it is and the thought wraps fingers of flames around her neck, as though he himself is touching her.She shifts, her heart drums
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“Where have you been?” A voice questions from behind following the casting of a shadow over River, temporarily shading her from the glaring sun. “Rita has been searching for you since morning.”River finishes scrubbing her hands clean in the bucket filled with ice water, then cups a handful splashing it over her face in an attempt at cooling the rose that shakes in her blood, and shadows her cheeks. “I was washing the linens.” She lies smoothly, avoiding the girl’s stern stare.“Is it an emergency?” In truthfulness, River’s heart still tumbles, body juddering at the inability to rid herself of the intimacy image.The girl shifts to her side as they pick a path back towards the village, “Not really, it is in regards to tonight.”River licks her teeth thoughtfully, squinting up ahead as a group of children rush past them, wooden swords clashing playfully, “What of tonight?”
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“He watches you,” the girl whispers, soft lips brushing the shell of River’s ear. River blinks feigning disinterest whilst her heart slams against her sternum within.“Who?” Her voice leaves in wistful indifference. Amusedly, her friend leans against her forearm, dropping her temple on her shoulder with a hum; “Do not act so nonchalance, River, your face says otherwise.”A rose shakes in her blood and shadows her cheeks. River sucks a mouthful of the cool night air and spares a glance upwards.Past the red, orange and yellow ball of rage that roars upwards eating its way through the wooden pyramid at its base. Plumes of grey are buffeted into the night sky, carried aimlessly by the chill October wind.Ashen debris glides silently away from the smoke onto the throng of excited children and talkative adults that all sit around the great bonfire beast, their eyes transformed into orbs of light each flickering orange
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Rome was not built in a day, but it surely fell in one.Siege and terror spread throughout the city. Consciousness ebbs through her thinly, she grows aware of the hardened earth beneath her cheek and flaming heat licking across her cheeks, thick heady smoke invading her lungs, charring it.River begins to cough, struggling to blink past the haze of tears clouding her vision. The dullness that fills her hearing clears and with it comes piercing incongruous cries and high pitching wails. Something - someone - is pushing on her shoulder with forceful violence, urging her to wake.Dull throbbing phantoms along her temple and she groans, tentatively touching only to pull away with dark smudged fingertips. River angles her head slowly, faltering at the feel of something weighted on her neck, the clinking of metal.A collar and chain. She notices the women and girls then, each huddled amongst each other like sheep, petrified eyes widened in horror, reflecting fl
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