Page 78 of Decadence

“Merely taking precautions, Sir. Even in your current state, we all know that you are still a formidable match.”

Ikriss’s lips curved into a bitter smile as he cursed his strange predicament. The training chamber was the place where he normally let out his pent-up frustrations. “Believe me, I have no intention of fighting anybody right now. Let’s go.” He strode out of the room, leaving a slightly startled Asherin to chase after him.

What infernal luck.

But at least he’d eaten well.

Sienna had sent him dish after dish of carefully crafted Earth food, each one made from the meat of various land and water dwelling animals that had been sourced from Earth. Each one was more intricate and delicious than the last, incorporating flavors he hadn’t even thought possible.

At first, he’d been skeptical, but after the first few meals, he’d started to appreciate not only the flavors, but the textures and the presentation. He noticed the delicate arrangements; the subtle flourishes, the intricate techniques.

Meat sliced so finely it was as thin as parchment leaves. Liquids of varying viscosity and color; swirled, dotted, feathered, and layered across a dish in a way that should have been a complete mess, and yet somehow it became artistry.

All imbued with her rich, heady scent.

The care and detail in her work was evident.

She was sending him messages in the form of food.

Humans were complicated creatures, indeed.

And he’d been wrong about one thing.

The task of eating for sustenance could indeed be a pleasurable one. She’d just proven it to him, in the most eloquent way possible. In fact, his mouth watered slightly as he thought of her food.

Exquisite, just like her.

Of course, it helped that every fiber in his being was primed for her, the yearning so strong it was akin to physical pain.

Ikriss strode along the corridor, his horn-buds throbbing, his chest tightening as he quickened his pace. His muscles started to burn. His vision went a little blurry.

He slowed a little, allowing Asherin to catch up.

How fucking irritating.

He, who had never been in anything but peak physical condition, was now reduced to this cursed weakened state.

For her sake, he had to get better, because he could not bear the thought of not being able to protect her.

Not now, not ever.

He would do anything to keep his power.

Even sell his soul to the nonexistent god of the Nine Hells.

As Ikriss rounded a corner, the distant sound of voices reached his ears. He caught a wisp of an intoxicating scent, so slight he thought he was imagining things.

Ignoring his burning chest and limbs, he quickened his pace.

“Sir?” Asherin queried, but Ikriss barely took notice of him.

Unable to stop himself, he followed the trail of the scent like a starved varhund.

It wasn’t just his imagination.

The scent was growing stronger, flooding his heightened senses. A jolt of exquisite pain went through his horn-buds. His nostrils flared. His cock stirred.

Asherin was communicating with someone over the comm. The assistant’s voice floated to him in fragments.

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