Page 58 of Of Wind and Terror

Hesitantly, I bring my fingers to my mouth and swirl my tongue around the tip, moaning obscenely when I catch the barest hint of her unique flavor. I wasn’t lying to Kassandra when I told her I could eat her pussy for days. If I could, I would permanently tie her to my face, just so I could bury my tongue in her perfect cunt and lap at the wetness there.

Mikage makes a face at me over his shoulder. “Stop making those sounds.”

“You would be making those sounds too if you tasted her,” I point out.

“I thought you didn’t want me to think about her like that.”

I consider. “You’re right. I don’t want you to. So stop it before I rip your brain out of your skull.”

Mikage laughs like he thinks I’m kidding.

I’m not.

Some may call me psychotic. It wouldn’t be the first time I heard that word thrown about in regards to me. Others say I’m obsessive—once I set my eyes on something, I refuse to give up until I own the object irrevocably.

But this is different.

My little bird isn’t just an object for me to use once and then discard.

Yes, she has powers that I can’t even begin to comprehend, but it’s more than that with her. She makes me feel things. Light and airy things. It’s a welcoming change to the oppressing darkness that has characterized my life for the last twenty-seven years.

The little birdy was made for me. She’s my perfect complement. My other half. The missing piece of my fucked-up soul.

She. Is. Mine.

And I won’t let anyone take her from me.

Already, I’m eagerly awaiting the next time I can see her. All I have to do is take care of the…problem in the dungeon, and then I can return to my little bird.

Unless she wakes up while I’m away…

Terror and rage clash for dominance in my chest. I curl my hands into fists so hard that my nails embed themselves in my palms.

She can’t keep leaving me like this.

I will lose my fucking mind.

If only I had grabbed her when I had the chance. I was so, so close. Only a single building separated us. She could’ve been mine. I would’ve built her a throne of bones and skulls. After all, it’s the least she deserves as my queen of darkness.

It’s no matter. She’ll be mine soon enough. I’ll just ask her where she’s hiding out and then come whisk her away like a thief in the night. Then, I’ll do what I promised earlier—allow her to ride my face until she falls apart around me. Again and again and again and again.

I’m so fucking hard that it takes all of my self-control not to whip out my dick and stroke myself. But considering I’m walking down the staircase into the dungeons, that may bring about the wrong impression.

“Let me out of here!” Calan’s voice is the first thing I hear, rife with fury.

I consider it an honor to break the normally unflappable ice prince. Apparently, his mask isn’t as adamantine as he would like us to believe.

He stands in the center of his cell, rage coloring his normally pale cheeks. His white hair stands in spikes at the top of his head, and there’s a streak of dirt on his forehead. He looks rumpled and disheveled and distressed.

I love it.

“Calan,” I drawl as I stalk closer. “Is that any way to treat your generous host?”

His right eye begins to twitch. He grips the bars of his cell tightly and leans forward, baring his teeth. “This is an act of Gaiadamn war, Draven. You fucking know it.”

I chuckle darkly, the noise devoid of any genuine mirth. “We’re already at war.”

“What the fuck is this?” Calan holds up his wrist, where a metal cuff is attached.

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