Russia
Moscow
Грановитая Палата, Granovitaya Palata, Palace of Facets
Present times
| Third person's POV |
"Princess", Vlad Tepes purred as he stroke the goddess' daughter's cheek. When had the last time been this magnificent creature had sought his presence? "What honour do I have to receive you in my humble home?"
"I was merely curious, Sire", Amaryllis brushed his hand fondly. "You look well-fed. I was surprised to hear you are staying here instead of Ostankino Palace."
"You flatter me", the Count shot an all too rare smile at the half goddess, inhaling her scent deeply. Spring grass after a rain shower, one of his favourite smells. "I have just fed from the finest smelling witch in the village. Alas, I would have prefered Ostankino but Putin is currently occupying it."
Ah, the young woman of the village closeby to Moskva, who had smelled similarly to this sight. He had not fed from Amaryllis in a long time, which had obly made him more ravenous.
"Maria Adameșteanu?", Amaryllis floated by the open arm of the wearth which guided her to the couch. How many nights had she spent here with him? She had long lost count.
"Close, I've had her last week. Only got more beautiful screaming like a banshee", his Highness motioned for the guards to close the doors behind them, in a good mood reminicing that memory. The taste of fear had just spiced her blood up even more. "Do you remember Iona?", he inquired further as he sat next to her. Their legs touched. Enough with the formalities.
"Ah her sister!", Amaryllis laid a hand on his. "How could I have forgotten when the mere sight of her made you growl!"
"Still, she is not the witch to make me come alive", the Count lifted her hand to his lips. "You look astonishing, draga mea." Pale lips kissed her knuckles, each a long kiss the Count visible enjoyed giving.
Once he kissed the flesh of her hand, Amaryllis stroke his cheek, crooking her head, her eyes soft. "And you are dashing as always, Vladimir."
"Such words out of anybody's mouth would not flatter me, alas yours ...", the Count scanned the Priestess slowly, his eyes stopping at her lips. "Lay with me", the Count purred, approaching the stunning woman with fire in his eyes. "It has been far too long, my huntress."
"I have not come for you, my love", Amaryllis pressed a soft kiss onto the Palestinian nose of the Count to soften her words. Romanian herritage, what a dumb joke of the humans. All because of his pale skin.
"No?", the Count ran his hand under her skirt. Amaryllis felt the bottomless lust the manjasang bore for her, which only excited her more. But she wasn't here for his loving and lusty touches. Moments later long kisses trailed down the Priestess' neck, his hands stroking her hips lovingly. "Aradia ... how I have craved your flesh", he snarled, his hands moving up.
"Vladimir", the Priestess retreated her head and placed a hand over his mouth to stop his advances, or else she could not resist him, much less think straight. Tepes continued kissing her hand enjoyably.
"What happened to Mary Southeil?"
The kisses stopped - and a bitter expression filled his.
Ruined his mood, Amaryllis thought to herself as he straightened and retreated his hands. "Be more specific."
"Since when does she use black magic?"
"She used it against Daniel Brandt. Before that she showed me the arrow that would be his undoing", Vladimir leaned against the couch and cleared his throat. He had remembered the scent from the day she had come a second time, then recalled it smelling Daniel's corpse. "I take it you have heard of Amelie?"
YOU ARE READING
The Awakening | book one
Fantasy"What's the last thing you can remember, Mary?", the woman with the stone-cold face, a stern beauty, asked cut and dry. She readied her pencil to write down my words, her eyes drilling into my head. Every single word of mine was documented. I took...
