The Eyes of Afodisia
Matthias shifted on his cot, more out of restlessness than anything else. If you overlooked the random beatings handed out by Jeoram. it was almost comfortable. Almost. For a jail cell. He had a mattress on the floor, with a blanket. He had a privy hole. He got fed twice a day, although the food was worthless to him. They'd even given him reading matter. Scripture.
As if he hadn't memorized the entire text, two decades ago.
The trouble was, right now his life was boredom interspersed with moments of heart-stopping terror. The Inquisitors weren't cruel. But they were skilled demonologists, and utterly merciless. Honestly, he preferred the random beatings. But even they were preferable to the Oracle, with her eyes filled with the radiance of Afodisia. Eyes that seemed to see right into the scarred pit that had once held his soul. Her questions were troubling. When she even asked questions. Her statements and her silences were even worse. Even her blood, sweet as it had been, held an aftertaste that he hadn't cared for. Like the burning of spices, it had roiled in his gut for hours.
There was the sound of boot steps approaching his cell, a sound he recognized instantly. "Hello, Aurianna," he said, not looking up.
Not at first, anyway. When he finally did, the sight of her was a blow. "Well, look at you," he said, eyes tracing the curves of her body and lingering on the hint of cleavage at the throat of her blouse. "Tell me, was he any good? Your Jeoram? I could smell you on him, when he last visited." A grin, showing white fangs. "Did he take you, over and over again? Did his seed wash my memory from your head?"
“You are going to have to try harder than that, if you want to hurt me.” She said with a sigh, leaning against the cell bars. “You have to at least be crueler than the paladins who are supposed to be my friends and allies.”
"Crueler than paladins?" Matthias sneered. "That'll be tough. Very little is as cruel as people who believe themselves 'good'."
She looked at him now, sucking in breath. "By the Goddess! Did... did Jeoram do this to you?" She sounded shocked.
"What, this?" He stroked the massive bruise on his jaw. "Well, we weren't introduced or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's him. He likes it a bit rough." He leered as she entered the cell. "You probably noticed, when you two were together."
"Do you need more blood?"
The question went right through him, making him catch his breath and leaving him rock hard. "I... wouldn't turn it down," he answered, voice husky. His eyes were glued to her as she entered the cell, kneeling beside him and fingering his chains.
"Are these getting in the way, healing yourself?"
"Getting in the way, of a lot of things," he replied, lingering on the sight of smooth skin exposed by her top. The memory of the taste of her life and their half naked bodies pressed together tormented him. "Take them off, and find out..."
Her hand covered her face. “Is everything my fault? Do I just cause untold pain and suffering, with everything I do?”
Her distress pulled him from the haze of lust. "What?" Matthias snorted. "You get raped by a few demons and your lover, and suddenly you're a demon lord? At least you didn't end your suffering by swearing fealty to Baath-Me'el to make it stop. Trust me when I say that I've caused far more pain in the world."
“I would have,” she shot back. “Had I been able to speak while Laemohn–” She turned, and it was a relief. He’d been baiting her, yes, but anger was his aim, not pain. “I would have begged Baath Me’el. Had I thought he would have had me, I would have begun begging before the twins…” The words dissolved into weeping. Her arms snaked around his neck as she spoke, admitting her fears and resting against his shoulder. “I considered while he took me before I had even known true horror. I’m pathetic. And it’s my fault you are like this.”
His fangs ached for her, an ache echoed by the throbbing hardness of his cock. Her throat pulsed with temptation, so close to him. Where he could reach it. Instead, his own chain swathed arms went around her. “I made a choice, Ari. The wrong one, clearly, but it was mine.”
"What would have been my fate? Had I agreed?" she asked, calloused fingers stroking the lines of his chest.
"I don't know," he whispered, torn between his need to taste her blood and his unaccountable desire to spare her more suffering.
"Would he have kept me for a concubine?" Her hand traced lower, finding his. “Or would I have been a warrior, like you?"
"I don't know," he repeated, lips tracing the pulsing artery in her slender throat. It would be easy, so easy to slide into her, to taste her as his fangs penetrated her. So easy, and yet he refused. Why? "Maybe both."
"Is that why you brought me to him? So that I could be at your side once more?"
"I don't know." There were no answers for her.
