Azrid’s mental voice hits louder and shittier than ever. Maybe Iris has us plugged together.
That’s not going to fucking fly.
Azrid snorts.
I stroke her ass and watch her blood flow while Iris mutters at the ground.
My venom can work fast or slow.
It depends on the host.
Faster means I’m stronger.
Slower is better.
Slow means Iris is strong enough to handle more—and hopefully serve me the ending I deserve.
Leftover flecks of my poison clump in her soft spots.
Head, pussy, heart.
My Trojan swimmers are doing the devil’s good work in there.
I pry at Azrid’s shadows, trying to free her ass for a better view.
She swats my hands. “Not now.”
“Why?” Her vessels are so fucking lush.
“There’s no way you don’t feel that.”
“Let me feel more,” I purr as I knead her ass.
She tilts my chin, forcing me to stare down the ground. “That.”
Magic leaks through cracks in the stone.
I catch a steam-kettle whine of creepy-ass power. Then I actuallylook.
The ground is just a rocky crust, hollow underneath.
Below that is…
Cold.
The darkness fuckingdevoursmy magic. I reel my silks away from the chasm.
I don’t know how I know, butsomethingevil is camping at the bottom.
My horn shrinks.
Bloodline suppression?
“That’s not good.” I lift my Guide, then set her back down so her boots rest on top of my feet. I don’t want her touching the rock—the bastard downstairs will want a piece of her.
“Youthink?” She turns to Azrid as he reappears in a puff of janky smoke. “Did you find anything?”