Page 22 of Even Angels fall
On the far side, on the left, there is a desk with a lamp again. On it, as if waiting for me, there’s one of those holographic computers I’ve seen everyone but me using in Versailles. They look like a flat surface, but once powered on, the keyboard appears on the surface and the screen comes alive in front of the keyboard in three dimensions.
On either side of the room, there are doors of the same wood as the floor.
“Shower is in there. You should have towels and anything you need inside. I’m going to let you be for a while. If you need anything, I’ll be on the first floor, on the other side of the building. My name is on the door.” He pauses as if he’s thinking about telling something, but hesitates. Finally he adds, “Elhyor is probably going to be on the roof until dinner, but his office is right next to mine. You can’t miss it. It’s the only golden door.”
He winks at me and starts to leave.
“Wait, what is the other door?” I ask as I look at the doorinsidemy room that he—purposefully?—forgot to tell me about.
I think I know what it is, but I want to be sure.
”Oh. It’s his room.”
He doesn’t add anything and finally leaves me alone.
11
Elhyor
Ican’t go back to my room.
I’ve tried.
But when I passed her door, all I could think about was the smell that came from inside and how I wanted to bury my cock inside those pouty lips of hers and pump until she choked on it and cried.
All I can think about is how proper she looks and how much I want to dirty her.
Even without hair, she looks like a doll.
One I want to break.
As long as I break her with my cock deep inside of her.
My dragon is restless, and my energy is buzzing.
Well, there is no he and I. I’m the dragon. But I also know when what I feel is triggered by human emotions or when it’s the dragon’s instincts.
Those instincts are a pain in my ass.
I battle against them and find myself in front of my office door.
That damn golden door.
It’s been painted in gold since my father took over Notre Dame. And every twenty or so years, those damn bats paint it again.
It goes with the myth of the dragons, they say.
Bullshit.
They just like messing with me.
Yes, dragons are hoarders. Notre Dame’s library is the perfect example of that, but it’s not so much gold we’re after.
It’s unusual things, curiosities, precious items.
Like the crown that was inside this very church when we arrived. It is said that it’s the thorn crown of their savior.
I don’t believe in their god, or even in Jesus, but I believe in the power of holy relics, and this crown is what dragon’s hoards are made of.
