Page 58 of Of Nightmares & Fire
“Have you ever felt energy coming from Tsalalerian steel? Or from the sand at the Dead Sea?” A crease forms between her eyes as she thinks about what I’m saying, before one brow quirks up and she narrows her green eyes on me.
“No… Have you?” She asks, searching.
“Not until today.” I pull the small bag of sand I collected from the dunes from my pocket and present it to her. She looks at me, unspeaking, before she finally takes the pouch and pulls it open. She dips her finger in, swirling it once before her head jerks up.
“That’s not all. There was a manticore. The beast foughtalongside us….” I tell her.
“Kyros. How?” Her eyes are round with disbelief, and then they fall to the sword at my hip. “And you have a Tsalalerian steel sword? What happened out there?” I turn my head, following the path Astraea just took with my brother.
“I'm not sure, but I intend to find out.”
“I was wondering when you would finally show up.” The voice sounds from the shadows in the corner of the room.
“You know I can’t stay away long.” I say flatly in greeting.
“The others arrived much earlier than you. Why?” He says, standing, his eyes bored and lips pursed as he crosses his arms.
“Wanted to keep things interesting, I guess.” I say, head tilting, and my mouth lifts at the corner. His mouth splits into a wide grin before he closes the distance between us. Grasping my hand, he pulls me into him, wrapping his other arm around my back with a slap. We both laugh.
“You look like shit, brother.” He laughs, pulling me out to an arm’s length.
“Yea well, I just had a run-in with some Scylia and a manticore. What’s your excuse?” He laughs again, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Come sit. Let’s catch up.” He says, pouring a measure of whiskey into two glasses and offering one to me. I take it before sitting in one of the leather armchairs that face the largest window in the dark room. With a whisper and a flick of his fingers, he lights the sconces, casting an orange flickering glow around the room. When he finally falls into the armchair across from me, he lets out a sharp whistle.
The far door opens soon after, and three scantily dressed women come striding in on light feet. Their eyes are heavy as they saunterthrough the room. The golden-haired woman wearing the sheer pink two-piece skirt and top sets up in the corner, her fingers deftly plucking at the strings of a harp in a slow rhythm.
The other two women split, and I watch as Rowan reaches out for the one with the deep auburn hair and a tiny sheer green dress. Her laugh flits from her like bells, and as she straddles his lap, it bares more than just her ass to me. Rowan groans as he grasps her hips and grinds her down on himself.
“You know you are here at a great time.” He says before trailing his tongue up the woman’s neck. “It's been a while since you have been here for the Shula Morana celebration.”
“I suppose it has.” I say. Grinding my teeth as I watch him pull the woman’s head back with her red hair wrapped around his fist. The movement makes her back arch and her breasts push out toward him. He licks his lips before his other hand comes up, ripping the thin fabric down the middle, and he bites down hard around her pert nipple. Her voice rings out in a shriek, then transforms to a breathy moan. I tense as a small hand runs along the back of my shoulders.
The last of the three women comes around in front of me, her fingertips trailing along my chest until she stops in the center. She stands between my legs, slowly running her long white painted nails down my body. Her hair is dark but lacks luster. Her deep brown eyes lock with mine as she lets the sheer white robe she wears open and fall from her thin body. Slowly, and with a hooded gaze, she begins dropping to her knees. I could use the distraction.Release some tension that seems to be constant as of late. Maybe Mavros is right. Maybe I just need to get laid.
Just as her knees touch the ground between my feet, my mind flashes to a field. The blue flower in the scorpion grass with a random ray of sunshine finding its petals and lighting it up like magick from within. My hand snaps out, wrapping around her delicate wrist just before she reaches for my belt.
“No.” I grunt, and confusion and worry blooms across her face.
“I’m sorry I displease you, sire; perhaps you want pleasure another way?” She asks. Her voice is wrong. Deep and raspy. Her dark eyes and golden skin. She is beautiful in every way but one.She is not Astraea.
“Rowan, we need to speak alone.” I say tersely. A wet slapping sounds behind the one who is leaving my lap, and when she is out of the way, I see Rowan with his cock shoved down the redhead’s throat as she groans around him. Tears running down her face and marking her cheeks with black that runs from the color staining her eyes.
“Oh, of course we can, brother. Just let me…” He tips his head back, the woman on her knees in front of him letting out a strangled choke as he shoves his cock all the way down her throat. He stays there for several seconds, pumping into her before he growls. His body shakes as he lets his release fill her throat. He smiles wide as he lets himself slide out and slaps her. She gasps, looking at him wide-eyed. He wrenches her up by her hair. “Good girl, finishing me like that. Now, take the girls to my chambers. Let me finish this conversation, and I will give you all some attention.” She smiles sheepishly, fluttering her lashes at him before all three sway their way out of the room.
“Was all of that necessary?” I say, annoyance coating my deep voice. He only laughs, shooting back the whiskey he has kept held loosely in his fingers.
“Of course it was. You know how I like to start the celebrations. Especially when one of my greatest friends is here to celebrate with us.” He says, the leather creaks as he sits back down in the chair with a wide smile.
“Unfortunately, I’m not here for the celebrations.”
“Yea well, refusing a beautiful woman willing to open her mouth for you will definitely put a damper on things for you. Your brother didn’t have such reservations.” He laughs, then finally must see the seriousness in my face, because he straightens, leaning forward. “Ok then, Kyros, what has you all bent out of shape?” At one point in my life, I may have been willing and eager to partake in this sort of senseless fucking, but now even the thought has tension building all wrong, settling on my shoulders. I toss the pouch of sand to him, and he catches it as it hits him in the chest.
He tugs the bag open and looks at me confused. Rowan’s magick is unique; not only does he have an elemental affinity to fire, but he can also read magickal signatures. His face transforms as he hovers his hand over the open leather sack.
“What is this?” He asks, all playfulness gone from his tone. His brows now lower, and his lips held in a straight line.
“I was hoping you might be able to tell me…” I say as I unsheathe the sword at my hip. His eyes widen before he cinches the bag closed and tosses it back to me. He shakes his head in denial as he looks from the black blade laying across my lap to the sand in my hand and back to me.
