I would love to share my appreciation for all the support from friends and fans alike! Because of you, I have finally finished what you have all be asking for:
The Sixth Prince Part VI
Izial rolled over onto his side and puked. The stench of vomit pierced the air, bringing a sharply acidic tone to what had previously been very calm, peaceful surroundings. Wearily raising his head out from the warmth of the dent in his pillow, he sat up and looked down at the sloppy mess that now covered a portion of the floor below. Disgust and regret should have been the first thing on his mind, but it was too early in the morning. Nonchalantly wiping the corner of his mouth on his wrist, he sighed and swung his ashen coloured legs around to the edge of the bed, letting his feet dangle above the smooth obsidian floor. With a soft grunt, he strained to lift himself onto his feet, carefully avoiding the puddle of sick.
“Izial?” A woman with skin the colour of milk, naked beneath the silk sheets, glanced up at him. Her dark hair has messily sprawled across her pillow, framing her face in a sexy, clumsy sort of way. Unlike what she was used to, he appeared to completely ignore her; he continued casually toward a hidden passageway to wash up, mumbling agitatedly to himself in an exotic foreign language. She stretched her sleepy muscles and yawned, not quite wanting to wake up yet. It felt way too early to start the day. What time was it anyway? 3 am?
In the distance, the sound of commotion started to form. She reluctantly hoisted herself up into a sitting position and looked to where her demon had wandered off, but the noise appeared to be originating from another place: the main door. What the Hell? She sighed in frustration, partially because this likely meant that she couldn’t go back to sleep, but also because Izial was already occupied with something; she would have to deal with whatever was out there herself. Complaining quietly to herself, she used the sheets to cover up her naked form and proceeded toward the door.
As she came closer, she noticed that something was slowly starting to change. She felt slightly light headed, but ignored the sensation, choosing to figure out what was going on first. The chaotic bickering behind the heavily blocked entrance subsided into a swarm of words that almost sounded familiar. She leaned against the door and listened deeper, focusing on what they were saying. Slowly, each syllable morphed into a meaning she could understand. It sounded strikingly similar to a conversation between two siblings.
“…Be silent!”
“My mind is not a slave to yours.”
“Disrespect! We are at the prince’s quarters to –“
“I am aware!”
“Do not shout!”
“I am free to do as I desire! How do you know what I desire?”
“Annoyance! Someone is present past the door.”
“I question why they have not spoken. You are certain?”
“I assure you. It cannot be Izial. He would have identified as so.”
“Is it the mate then?”
“The young human?”
“I have a name, you know.” She remarked sassily, engulfed in their language and mimicking their tongue.
Silence fell along the conversation, leaving the pair behind the door in shock.
They spoke again, but this time their speech seemed to switch into a more blunt language where words were dumbly simple and shallow. “May we enter, Jasmine?”
All of a sudden, Jasmine’s head swam and she began to lose her inner sense of balance. While her body quickly began to feel liquefied, as if trying to reject her organs, her mind struggled to understand what had just happened.
“Yeah, I – I guess…” She managed to slur out a response in English, as she remembered it being usual, but her world flipped as the words left her mouth. The next thing she knew, her legs gave out beneath her, sending the ground rushing toward her face.
The two twin demons dressed in greyscale royal clothing opened the doorway. Although they both shared the same red hue of skin, long dark hair, dark eyes and Demonic features, their clothing styles were starkly different; Sylan wore a casual sleeveless shirt with royal symbols scrolled down the side in black ink, dark jeans, and rugged boots. He wore his hair loosely, letting it fall to his waist, while Mylan had braided his hair tightly behind him, wearing a fancy grey cloak and plain sandals.
Immediately, they saw her sprawled out across the floor and rushed to her aid. All Jasmine could comprehend were boots and ruby hands near her face before she felt her body be lifted off the ground and set on the bed. One of the demons sat her up and held her shoulders firmly, speaking directly to her in the language she was listening to earlier.
“Is my way of speech clear?” His dark eyes looked inquisitively into hers, desperately searching for an answer.
Too weak to understand, Jasmine lolled forward and lazily glanced up at him with dazed eyes. After a moment, Sylan released her with a frustrated huff, letting her collapse into a ball on the bed.
“I was not informed we had guests.” Izial spoke sourly, appraising the scene from a distance as he walked across the room. Mylan and Sylan startled quite visibly, looking up at the prince that now loomed above them. His face was vicious with territorial disapproval, making the two demonic brothers bow in submission. Whatever situation Izial had assumed, judging by his tone, it certainly wasn’t a pleasant one. And, given the scene, it didn’t look very good even from an optimistic perspective. The twins were now in the center of a terrible situation, which they both became entirely aware of.
“Izial –” Sylan started, only to be immediately silenced by a wave of the dark prince’s hand.
“I do not wish for pleading. I simply demand the truth.” Izial glanced over at Jasmine, who was having a rough time recovering. His own body ached deeply form an unknown cause, but he easily pushed that aside, giving the severity of the situation. His pain was nothing compared to Jasmine’s current condition.
Struggling to keep his calm, he stared back at the twins who didn’t dare to reciprocate eye contact. Even if they had the authority or stupidity to do so, they both knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. His eyes were fierce, stained with an intense blood red. Izial spoke again, in an eerily collected, smooth tone. “If you dare speak false words to me, I will personally cut out your tongue and sell your corpse as meat. Speak the truth, and perhaps I’ll be more pleasant.”
The twins spoke rapidly in Demonic, filling in each other’s sentences and using wide hand gestures. The prince watched their displays attentively, expressionless.
The sheer amount of speech was too much for the small woman to comprehend; she was continuously bombarded by accelerated syllables, animalistic sounds that mingled into words, and an awareness that this was a language other than English. It was all too strangely foreign and new to her, yet she recognised and understood it as if she had spoken it since the beginning. The two languages she knew were impossibly different – but now sounded as if they were one in the same. Jasmine wretched sickeningly on the bed, her mind swimming and slurring as much as her stomach. Her uncoordinated sound and movement caught Izial’s eye immediately,
“Cease!” He spoke overtop of everyone present in the room, rushing over to her aid. His medical instincts taking over, he rolled her onto her side, effectively maneuvering her into a recovery position. After checking her pulse, breathing rate, and conducting a brief inspection, he crouched at the bedside at eye level with her. Mylan and Sylan had spoken of impossible things. Perhaps she was delirious, or perhaps they all were. A heavy breath left his chest as he came to a decision. She will know the truth. Softly, he placed his hand upon her cheek and spoke to her. “What Mylan and Sylan speak of… is this true?
She didn’t reply verbally, but he didn’t need that from her. Their inner connection was deeper, stronger, than the words of any realm. He felt her respond on a level of her subconscious: They spoke the truth. There is confusion strewn throughout mind and body; deep within, the past is awakening. Soon, you will know what has been hidden for so long, even from her.
There was no more to be heard. His hand fell away from her face with purposeful determination and he looked toward his older brothers. “Mylan, Sylan. Fetch all of your texts.”
“Which ones?” Mylan asked flatly. There were thousands of ancient texts in their room alone, and an unfathomable amount of other literature.
“All that speak of these symptoms. Facts, research, stories, legends, every piece of writing that can be accessed under my authority!” He threw his arms in the air, turning his back to them to hide his distress. Despair loomed over top of his head as he was immersed in the reality of such impossible, absurd circumstances. For the first time in his life, he felt nearly as helpless as the day of his birth.
Holding back all signs of protest at the monstrous task, the two brothers bowed and exited in silence, leaving Izial alone to his thoughts and his petite, suffering woman. Although she was still visibly ill, her body had stopped tormenting her physically, finally letting her rest.
Despite all that had just happened, seeing her body calm down warmed his heart enough to give him a smudge of hope. He laid down behind her, hugging the shape of her body into his. He slid his arm around her curvy waist, letting his hand rest upon her small, yet constantly growing, baby lump. Her skin had always been smooth as silk to the touch, and now, especially in this area, he noticed her temperature had risen dramatically. The little mound was soft, round, and intensely warm. He snuggled closer, rubbing his cheek against her long midnight hair in a comforting motion. Whether it was to comfort Jasmine or himself, he wasn’t quite sure. It didn’t really matter anyway. His mind was already lost in thought, dancing between reality and dream. He sighed, offering his best efforts to focus on the present. Once he understood that, perhaps he could finally guess at the future.
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Hours passed. How many, Izial couldn’t judge. Perhaps two, or perhaps ten. It was his lover that woke him, shifting her position in his arms so she could nuzzle her face against his chest. He wasn’t even aware he had fallen asleep.
The delicate bundle in his arms groaned softly, leaning her weight into him. Her lush breasts pressed against him, cushioning themselves between the two drowsy bodies. Somehow, she had shimmied out of the bedsheets in her slumber, leaving her sexy body bare before him. He smiled ever so softly, cupping her innocent face in his palm. With light movement, he lifted her chin to show her face.
“Jasmine,” He murmured to her, brushing stray locks of hair that had fallen across her cheek. A quiet mumble from her lips hushed him, lulling the room back into a peaceful silence.
Deep down, he felt her beginning to wake up. Throughout her deep sleep, her body had recovered immensely. He could sense her new wave of calmness, although her mind was still fragile.
Something inside him was beginning to wake up as well, however, it was much more natural for him than anything he had come to know; lust. His hunger for her body and mind was much more intense than he had remembered it. He leaned downward and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. He felt her inner fires stir, coming alive with his touch.
She moved sensually in his embrace, rubbing her belly against his steadily growing manhood and rolling her hips against his body. Soon, she had inched her body up on his, directing his erection down toward her inner thighs. The demon sighed with lust, brushing his mouth against her neck. Closing his eyes, his lips played with the luscious sensation of the nape of her neck, sucking gently, yet with an animalistic hunger. Gradually soft nibbles became stronger, harder, quickly turning mouthfuls of her snowy complexion reddish pink with the rush of blood. A gush of precum trickled down the tip of his cock, urging him to push himself into the tight depths of her hot, wet pussy.
Now, he was certain the urge felt slightly different. He didn’t just desire it, he needed it.
Jasmine groaned with longing and ran her fingers through his boyish midnight locks, using her fingertips to trace the outline of his dark, elf-like ears that tended to hide in his hair. She felt him quiver against her, then murmur as he bit her shoulder again, a little rougher this time, yet still careful not to draw blood.
Carefully, he rolled her onto her back and lifted himself upward, shifting his weight to the side and towering his masculine body above hers. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled with lust, eager to begin their fiery display of intimacy. His excitement caused another dribble of precum to leak out, dripping just below her belly button. With a quick adjustment, the swollen head of his member slid along the warm outer folds of her hot channel. She mewed impatiently below him, begging him to slide himself inside her.
With a precise thrust of his hips, his cock was gradually engulfed by the slippery, deliciously tight sensation of her hot pussy. She gasped and bucked up into him as he inched his way inside, desperately wanting him to ram her roughly without mercy, only stopping after she’d reached her blissful orgasm.
It took a fraction of a moment for him to sink inside her, but to Jasmine it felt like an eternity. She just wanted him to make her ache from the intensity of their acts of passion and feel him spill his seed deep inside her. She let out a little moan as he began to pick up the pace, roughly kissing a spot on her jawline just below her ear. She could hear his lustful, rugged groans as he continued to nibble by her earlobe, driving her wild with need.
“Harder,” She mumbled between breaths, “I want to feel you all the way inside me.”
Almost instantly, his speed picked up immensely with all signs of gentleness abandoned; her words scattered his concentration, allowing him to fully immerse himself in his own desires to fuck her senseless. As he slid in and out of her slick canal, he slid a finger down to paw at her clit. Her thrilled reaction only motivated his inner hunger to push deeper, rougher, and harder. With each stroke, felt himself drawing ever closer to his moment of release; he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up a slight bit more until he was unable to hold back any longer.
With a few deep thrusts, he held her tightly, continuing to play with her clit as a rush of cum erupted from the head of his cock, flooding the furthest depths of her pussy. A rejuvenating relief mingled with an exhilarating high, engulfing his mind, body, and soul.
Not a moment later, Jasmine was pushed over the edge of ecstasy as well, falling into a spiraling state of pure pleasure. It wrapped around her, blurring her reality with an overwhelmingly calm, blissful sensation. As she slowly tried to cling onto the fleeting high, she opened her eyes to find the sinfully beautiful face of her lover, laying peacefully beside her. He kissed the top of her head, murmuring to her. “I have something for you.” His fangs indented his lower lip as he grinned at her.
The temptation of surprise and adventure spread across her face. “What is it?”
“You shall have to follow me.” He smoothly rose to his feet and began walking in the direction of the secret passageway to his dressing room, which was usually concealed behind a large unit. He had already swung it open, flicking his arrowed tail in the air happily behind him.
She followed his footsteps, gleefully chasing after him into the darkness of the hidden passageway. After only a few strides, the hallway opened up into another round room, smaller than his main quarters, yet still quite spacious in its own way. Candlelight flickered on the walls, illuminating the sheer dress that Izial held before her. It hung loosely in his hands, fluttering elegantly from the slightest motion.
“I received this from a reputable stand at the plaza.” He grinned at her, the tips of his fangs shimmering in the dancing light. “I believe I will bring out your inner,” he paused briefly, looking for the word, “playfulness.”
She giggled, reaching out to touch the fabric. It slid across her fingers like water and the silvery patterns of royal symbols along the rim of the closely cut skirt glimmered, seamless. “It’s gorgeous!”
“I am pleased you like it.” He leaned forward slightly to help her into the gown with nimble hands. The top was fitted to her body, holding her breasts snugly in place and emphasising her natural feminine curves, like usual. This time, the skirt hung loose, following the slightest movement of her hips like a short shadow. She spun around, watching in awe as the material flared out around her, revealing intricate swirls and patterns hidden within the folds that appeared to glow with the reflection of the candlelight. A ravishing smile spread across her snowy young face. “Thank you!”
The demon chuckled, catching her in his sturdy arms and holding her close to his body. “It is my pleasure. Shall we carry on with the day?”
“Of course.” She pecked a small kiss on his cheek and led him back out into the main room. It wasn’t a moment before Izial’s ears twitched slightly, making him turn his attention toward the main entranceway. Jasmine hopped up onto the bed, rolling onto her stomach and letting her feet swing playfully in the air above.
The door slid open, revealing the faces of the twins once again. Mylan had a worn leather satchel slung across his shoulder, obviously containing something rather bulky. Beside him, Sylan carried a pair of bunny slippers and held a neatly rolled white towel under his arm.
“Room service!” Sylan called out mockingly, just before his twin abruptly lodged him in the rib with an elbow. He winced, but the amusement on his face only increased, if anything.
Mylan attempted to hide his frustration, but irritation seeped into his voice, even though it was directed to Sylan rather than the prince. “We’ve arrived to return your mended slippers and clean up the mess,” He glanced over at Sylan, “including vomit.”
Sylan opened his mouth in protest, but his eyes locked with Izial’s unamused gaze and he stopped himself.
Izial’s voice wasn’t as bitter as Mylan’s, but it wasn’t pleasant. “Very well, you may enter. Give me the slippers.” He elegantly held out a clawed hand and let Sylan return the footwear. With that, the prince walked back to his love and offered them to her. After all, they had been altered to fit her feet after the previous… misunderstanding.
As the Sixth Prince continued toward his desk to work on replacing candles, Jasmine slipped her toes inside the fluffy fabric of the slippers, discovering it to be form fitted to her entire foot. The result was exquisitely breathtaking. She wiggled her toes playfully and beamed to herself, immersed in admiration and wonder. After a moment, she looked over at the twins, who were still standing casually in the center of the circular room.
“Wow, this is beautiful! You two did all this?”
“We did.” The two demons bowed in appreciation to her kindness. Sylan looked back over his shoulder, then whistled to get Izial’s attention. The high demon perked up.
“There are a few servants on their way with food and some kind of nutrient supplements you ordered a while ago.”
“Excellent. I’ll expect them shortly.” The dark prince set aside the candle he had been working on. The warmth from the magic in his hands faded, leaving the stray blobs of silvery wax to harden atop the smooth desktop. “My appetite has been rather impulsive recently.”
“As I have seen.” Mylan spoke coldly.
“Yeah,” Sylan chimed in, “You’ve been eating like a five-headed beast for several moons and Jasmine barely touches her food.”
Suddenly, cutting the conversation short, all of the demons glanced toward the entranceway in flawless unison. Jasmine curiously followed their gaze and watched as Izial gracefully opened the door to reveal the yellow eyes of two demonic servants. Izial spoke simply and dominantly to them, maintaining his highborn posture. After only a few sentences of conversation, the servants disappeared back into the depths of the darkness and Izial returned with several glass bottles of fluid in his arms.
He scattered them across the bedspread, letting the various heavy containers clink lightly together and slosh around their vividly coloured contents inside. The small human picked one up with her delicate hand, inspecting it closely with a captivated fascination. That which they contained swirled with different hues of purple, darkening in places as if it had a mind of its own. The fluid was heavy, yet thin, and unable to produce bubbles even when shaken vigorously. It seemed to reflect the light in the room, sparkling with a beautiful iridescence. The bottle itself was crystal clear and fashioned in a shape rather similar to her nail polish bottles at home. A complicated series of designs etched along the side caught her attention.
While Jasmine ran her fingertip along the intricate grooves and bumps, Izial quickly selected a bottle and broke the thin black seal at the top with his pearly fang. A small pop and hiss arose as he carelessly tossed the seal back on the bed and pressed the smooth glass rim to his lips, taking a large swig of the vivid purple liquid. It poured like silk into his mouth; concentrated with nutrients, yet appearing thinner than water. Because of the colouring he had selected, the only resulting flavour was a faint hint of a rare native plant, which tasted oddly similar to a dark wine.
Before Jasmine could ask what he was drinking, her demon spoke to his brothers, seeking to continue the conversation.
“Is my hunger to do with the child?”
“Yes.” Mylan replied darkly, glancing over at his twin, who was proceeding to clean up the mess on the floor. The white towel he used appeared to absorb the puddle of sick with ease. “And don’t mate too much or you’ll end up vomiting all over the floor again.”
Izial paused, thinking for a minute. He swallowed another mouthful from the bottle before speaking. “Rather odd, is it not? I was informed my nature of lust would be enhanced, not hindered.”
“That information is correct, I assure you. You’re consuming enough nutrients for you, your mate, and your child. Your body will change it into energy, which you transfer to Jasmine.”
“I certainly desire for this transfer to be more pleasant than vomiting.”
Jasmine crinkled her nose. “Maybe it’s telepathic or something.”
Sylan chuckled at her comment, despite his current cleaning duty. “Not quite.”
“The transfer is through his seminal fluids, I believe.” Mylan explained.
“You make such a pleasant act sound greatly of medical procedures and machines.” Izial continued to sip on the remaining liquid at the bottom of the glass. “The modern terms for the act and its components are much more… tasteful.”
“The term itself is not of importance. You vomited because you forced your body to produce more fluid than you could manage. You must be more careful.”
Izial laughed, causing Mylan to take on a look of concern. “I do not joke. It may seem slightly unpleasant at the time being, but as the pregnancy nears, the consequences will increase tenfold.”
“I’ll watch over him.” Jasmine offered. Izial laughed rather strongly, slightly defensive, but incredibly amused.
“You cannot control me.”
Jasmine looked over at him and smirked, but didn’t counter him, deciding to let him believe he won this time. There would always be a time in the future to challenge that statement. She knew how powerful he was, especially in that aspect. The thought of rebelling against him wasn’t a show of defiance or a determination to be right, but rather to be proven wrong; the thought of him seeking to seduce her and let his inner abilities easily win her body and mind thrilled her. Just imagining how he would make her melt in his arms beyond any hope of fighting back against the burning desire – The abrupt, sharp power behind her lover’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Do not dare speak her name in front of me!”
She hadn’t noticed that the Demonic brothers had begun speaking again, but now she had fully snapped out of her daydream.
She spoke up in confusion, interrupting the chaos. “What? Who? She?”
Izial glared verminously at her, but his anger rapidly faded into misery the moment his eyes caught hers. He hesitated to answer her question, but decided it would be best if she knew. “The woman who gave me life.” He set the bottle back down on the bed quietly.
She recognised the pain in his voice, and immediately regretted bringing it up. She remembered clearly how this was a touchy subject, especially to those of royal decent. “Was she captured like the other the Demonic women?”
The silence in the room was deafening.
“… No.”
His answer hit her harder than what she had expected to hear. “What? Why?” Her mind began to race. “What happened?”
His words were simple, yet possessed violent emotion, hidden in the depths of his eyes. “I was born.”
Jasmine felt sick with the realization. This is what he had been hiding from her. He knew that she was going to die, just like his mother had. The child signified her death, and the clock was ticking closer to the moment in which her life would end. Her mind was too busy to think clearly, much less form any sort of question. Did she even want to know the answer to any question she could possibly think of? Her silence gave everyone in the room a dreaded feeling, letting chills creep up on even the strongest of souls.
Sylan took the opportunity to speak. “Izial, brother, you must be logical. You are fully aware that preserving her life without murdering the child is medically impos –”
“Nothing is impossible!” Izial snapped at him. Sylan froze in his tracks, his pause giving the prince room to continue. “All you need is motivation. I have all the motivation I need.”
“What about the recent… incident, Izial?” Mylan reminded him.
Sylan followed, adding to what Mylan had said. “She collapsed onto the floor and spoke in De –”
“I don’t know!” His anger flared up to a dangerously high level, burning like the chaos in fire. The intensity of his eyes shocked the two demons that stood across the room. The unanswered questions and tormented him on a deeper level than he had ever felt. Despair became sadness, sadness burned as anger, and his anger drove him mad. He took a slow, heavy breath, trying to settle his emotions. “You should be thankful my nature is not of wrath, or half of my kingdom would have burned and melted like lead.”
Mylan and Sylan responded with an uneasy silence. Jasmine laid on the bed, staring at him, stunned.
“The process of finding what you require in our texts would take several moons. Perhaps as many as twelve.”
“You know I do not poses a great amount of time.”
“Has there been movement with the child?”
“Not yet.”
“It won’t be long.”
“I am aware!” He spat the words at them. “Perhaps,” He glared at the two viciously, beside himself with rage, yet fighting to conceal it, “you should get to work.”
“Yes, Izial.”
The pair bowed and exited, leaving Jasmine and her demon alone once again. Jasmine was lost for words. What she couldn’t possibly begin to express in words caught in her throat and ran down her cheeks as bitter tears. She choked on her despair, letting her frustration mingle with the rest of her inner feelings as they leaked out. What had she gotten herself into?
Izial mustered up the strength to look back at her, unprepared for what to say. Perhaps he had already said too much. He held in a breath and forced it out his nose, upset with everything he had allowed to befall upon her; what had happened cannot be undone, what had been said cannot be unheard, and what is yet to happen remains unchanged. His eyes rose to meet hers, and he struggled to fight back against the looming masses of hopeless depression haunting him. Her time was growing shorter with every breath. He stood there, unmoving.
Jasmine saw a doleful mass of grey in his eyes begin to consume the remnants of what used to be a brilliant emerald. All of the vibrant colour that lingered is now faint and smudged, soon to be lost in the momentum of his sadness. He looked away, closing his eyes.
His chest heaved a sigh. Izial murmured gently at the empty space in front of him, speaking indirectly to her. “Perhaps we should take a stroll. Being confined to this room is greatly difficult for the mind.”
Softly, Jasmine spoke up. “Okay.” Her words were barely audible through her tears, but he heard every syllable. She rose from the bed, taking his hand lightly, like an anxious child.
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The dark prince led her by the hand down the dark passageways, directing them along a route that would bypass the busyness and commotion of the plaza. It wasn’t long before the tunnels opened up to a bright light, blinding Jasmine slightly as her eyes adjusted from the darkness. She let go of his hand briefly to wipe away the wetness from her long lashes.
Around her, a beautiful wilderness slowly came into focus. Tiny plants grew steadily at her feet, reaching their flat, fanned leaves toward her ankles. For once in what seemed forever, a tiny smile tweaked the corner of her lips. A weathered pathway of obsidian stones winded in front of them, leading to large, barren trees in the distance, whose branches reached impossibly high.
The demon started down the path, looking back at her. “I know of a beautiful place. As a child, I would often come there to find peace.” He reached backward, politely offering his hand. “I can take you there. Come.”
She took a step forward, knowing the honesty that lay within him. Timidly, she placed her smaller hand in the warmth of his own, following him as he led her through a wild garden of exotic beauty. The rich fragrance of the forest engulfed her, relaxing her like the comforting touch of a mother. Now, she truly appreciated his suggestion to escape from the confines of his quarters.
After several twists and turns, they arrived at a small clearing with a pile of large rocks near the center, surrounded by ferns and shrubs of many different hues. Jasmine squatted down to inspect a massive tattered plant, leaving her demon to climb up onto a rock.
“How do they survive if there is no sun?” She asked aloud, glancing over her shoulder at him. Izial sat in a meditation pose atop one of the larger rocks.
“Heat is a form of light, known to your people as infrared light. They feed from the heat of the magma below.”
She extended her hand to touch one of the leaves, but recoiled in surprise when it shot into the ground, vanishing from sight. Keeping a suspicious eye on the plant, she slowly wandered over to the prince, sitting beside him. There was no use beating around the bush.
“Am I going to die?” She already knew the answer.
Izial wasn’t ready to admit her fate. He had promised to protect her until his last breath; there was no way he would break his word, especially now that he loved her. His words were no longer deceitful or manipulative, for he knew there was no longer a purpose in lying to her. If she was going to die, at least she would know the truth.
“I am not certain.” He looked upward in deep thought, letting the light breeze tousle his hair. “Fate can be tricky. It does not always take the expected path.”
Jasmine shifted her position awkwardly, trying to settle her thoughts and wrap her mind around the events that her eyes and ears were now open to. Strangely, she found comfort in his words. But, whether she liked it or not, she was the center of the chaos; playing Russian roulette with fate herself, simply waiting for the moment when the trigger is pulled.
The human girl gently slid a hand over top of her womb, pondering the innocence that would inevitably kill her. Oddly enough, she didn’t feel frightened. She would have assumed she would be mad, but instead, she felt rather protective of this small, feeble baby. Would it be worth dying for?
Softly, deep inside her, she felt pleasantly warm. Slowly, that warmth grew, spreading down between her legs. As her breathing began to speed up in excitement, she crossed her legs and closed her eyes, trying to push the sporadic sensation away. Beside her, Izial slid closer and placed a gentle hand on her thigh. She moaned out loud from the sensation, unable to contain her now urgent craving to be with him, two bodies as one. Part of her questioned why it was all happening so rapidly, but her accelerating lust drowned out any other thoughts. Looking up at Izial, she saw his breath had become ragged and his bright jade eyes were alive with primal hunger; she could feel her sudden passion mirrored inside him as well.
Running his hand up under her dress, he felt her lean against him and pulled her even closer, catching her lush lips with his own. The slickness of saliva engulfing his bottom lip coaxed a moan out of him as Jasmine sucked and tugged at it inside her sensual mouth. Unable to resist, he lifted her into his lap and passionately entwined their tongues, letting her weight press against his straining erection.
Feeling his bulge brush against her body, her hands immediately wrapped around the exposed side his girth, teasingly stroking him through the thin fabric of his pants. An exasperated growl rumbled from his throat, showing his short patience. With nimble fingers, Jasmine fished his heavy member out into the open air, watching it spring free with a greedy sparkle in her eye.
She held herself upward, slipping his cock under her dress and positioning the tip against the entranceway to her heavily lubricated depths. Tapping it on her clit, she smiled devilishly at him. In one swift motion she buried his cock snugly inside her pussy, ramming the tip against the deepest spot possible. The bliss was unimaginably powerful, overtaking both of them as she proceeded to vigorously bounce up and down, pounding herself with his proud girth. The way he stretched her out and filled her with up to her max was additive, making her strive to push more and more of him insider herself, like chasing the ultimate high.
Izial was blown away, entranced by her enthusiasm and determined to reciprocate with the same intensity. Grabbing her hips, he provided extra force, increasing the speed. The familiar smacking of flesh on flesh surrounded them, enticing him ever closer to his release. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this, but it didn’t matter. Her moan was beautiful, like the cry of an angel, and he felt her teeter delicately on the edge of orgasm. Though their movements were wild and rapid, there was no rush; it was hunger that drove them to increase the pace, not time. Even so, it took only a few moments to watch her climax, her convulsing sex milking him strongly for all he had. He felt tidal waves of relief and ecstasy wash over her, urging him to join in.
That was all it took to trigger his own strong peak. His mind flooded with a moment of bliss as he spurted his heavy load deep inside her. After several deep breaths, he felt his high melt away, returning him to reality. Gradually, she calmed in his arms, nuzzling her face into his shoulder.
He smiled in relief at her, his eyes sharing the same shade of blue as hers. She couldn’t help but smile a little back at him.
A brief, tiny movement just above where they were joined caught their immediate attention…
A little kick.
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Deep inside the kingdom, Mylan searched through a large shelf of ancient texts expressionlessly, immersed in his work. So far there had been no sign of what they were looking for, but he didn’t let that deter him from finding it. He had adjusted to filing through the many shelves wrung throughout the quarters that he and his brother shared; reading was one of the few things he enjoyed.
In another section of their study, Sylan skimmed through yet another book, with dozens more discarded beside him in a pile. This time, he was hesitant to check all of the pages, as it was merely the journal of a lesser known author; the writing had been recovered from yet another kingdom that had died in the Loss of The Unborn. He smoothly flipped the thick, ragged page and started on the next, questioning once again why he had to do this.
Without warning, he stopped sharply. His eyes narrowed skeptically at his findings. Rereading the pages of symbols thoroughly with his hand, his body froze still in astonishment.
Rough translation:
The warrior of east kingdom betrayed that which he vowed to protect. Across his body was the blood of the child to be recognised as the princess in seven moons. Blood with the essence of revenge had pulsed through her, and now it stained permanently across the being of the assassin, locking him with a curse.
Those of his bloodline fell sick and fell into death. Desperation pushed him to send his eldest son to the realm of humans, of sun and of ocean. There the son laid with a woman, seeding a child of demonic blood in her womb. The child of Hell remained hidden within the being, passing the heritage DNA to daughter and son, not marking the body of horns nor claws.
Dormant in the body, it lives in the mind, seeking to thrive in the dwellings of its ancestors. The creation of a child of pure Demonic blood within shall awaken the body of the mother. Eyes stained red of blood, teeth of a demon, and horns of the eastern kingdom shall immerge within early stages of the child’s development. Memories and knowledge will rise into awareness, bringing chaos before settling.
Sylan fell silent, his breath quiet. Jasmine was of Demonic decent.
“Mylan.” He called to his brother, “Come here.”
After a moment of reading, Mylan paused and stared at the stunned face of his twin with cold, dark eyes. He felt his lips press together and contort into a half snarl, repulsed with the discovery.
Sylan gently stroked the weak pages in his hands, thinking. He made a move to speak up, but Mylan cut him off before he would even begin; he had already sensed what he was going to say.
“You mustn’t tell him. It will ruin everything.” Mylan glanced down at the ragged book his twin held. It filled him with a hostile revulsion. “Banish the journal to a place he will never find it.”
Swiftly, Sylan complied. The battered cover of the journal hit the solid floor with a thud. Using simple hand gestures, he flung it forcefully to a remote corner of the room, sending the journal skidding to a space directly below the weight of a suspended storage unit.
With a boom, the unit flattened the pages, trapping it under nearly a ton of stone.
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<3
linky_fangs